Polyamory in D Minor

And soon he arrived at their house. He stayed still for a moment with a hoof on the gate, looking up at the house, his mind two too many steps ahead of him. He could still turn back. He could still go away.

But maybe it was worth checking out.

It was a small comfort, but it was enough to give him the strength to unclick the gate, and walk across the well-trimmed lawn up to the patio. A light fog of mists played about his hooves as they clacked against the path. He put his hoof against the door and took a deep breath, trying to calm his screaming instincts, his heart beating in his ears. This was it. Go time.

He knocked.

A few minutes later, the door opened a crack. Half a face appeared, peering out meekly, eyes hidden by a pair of opaque purple sunglasses. Neon smiled. The figure behind the glasses stiffened, the eyes behind them widened, and before Neon knew it, the door had flown open and the energy-laden form of Vinyl Scratch wrapped him in a massive hug, squealing with excitement, laughing with him. He felt his anxiety slip away a bit. Vinyl’s excitement and energy was infectious, on stage and off, and as he found himself the subject of much snuggling already, Neon let himself forget a bit.

“Neeeoooon! Holy shiiit, dude! It’s been like forever since we talked!”

“What, that phone conversation a few days ago wasn’t anything?”

Vinyl pushed back from the hug a bit, looking into Neon’s eyes, as he reciprocated. There was something about Vinyl that seemed to be innocent, despite whatever came out of her mouth or whatever music she played. They were soft features, her sunglasses down on her nose to show her eyes, wide with life. They spoke of a bit of childlike wonder combined with adult interests, sparkled with barely used rationality and heavily worn creativity. Vinyl had a face that made a pony smile, a face that guaranteed a good time.

“I meant in person, silly!”

Neon laughed, she laughed, she pulled him back into her embrace, and his hooves fell over her shoulders, lingering there for maybe a bit too long, not that it mattered to him. Vinyl’s body was soft, warm and accommodating. Neon opened his eyes ever so slightly, looking past her back, silently taking in every aspect of her. She looked as soft as she felt. From her thick, almost colt-like barrel to her pillowy flank, Vinyl had the look and feel of a mare who had foals, or would have foals. There was a mother in her wary voice. In her subtle, soft movements and her sudden, twitching ones. In the shaky little breaths she took as his grip loosened.

“I missed you a ton,” she whispered.

“Missed you too, Ol’ Mama Vinyl.”

“Shut up,” Vinyl giggled, pulling off of Neon and giving him a punch in the foreleg. “I’m only like a year older than you!”

“Older is older.”

They laughed, and all of a sudden he had forgotten why exactly he was here for a moment. Vinyl pulling Neon back into another hug didn’t help out. She was just so affectionate, just standing there, holding him close. It was incredible how a mare could show a guest so much love even before letting him in the door.

“Vinyl?”

Vinyl looked back at the figure in the living room, and Neon followed suit. Only the top of the other mare’s head was visible, but Neon felt a chill down his spine at the sound of her voice. Her tone was soft and warm, but laden with reprimand, and Neon felt power behind every word that wavered through the air. And she did it without a bit of effort.

“Yes, Tavi?”

Vinyl’s voice was many times louder. A bit odd that she needed to strain herself to be heard, and Octavia could whisper and it was like she was right next to his ear.

“Would you let poor Neon inside before you asphyxiate him?”

There was a crack in Octavia’s voice, the tone chiding, as if she was talking to children. The fact that she could put that smile into it made him feel a little bit smaller.

Neon Lights reluctantly broke Vinyl’s tight hug, noting the heavy blush on her face and feeling one on his own, and approached the couch and the drowsy mare lounging upon it.

Octavia Philharmonica la Mezzo Forte seemed so different out of concert. A baggy beanie was perched upon her head like a crown, giving her an almost hooded appearance that drew Neon to her eyes. Vinyl’s magenta irises were complimented nicely by Octavia’s regal and commanding violet ones. Even with the whites tinged with the slightest hue of pink, they still demanded the attention of anyone who dared to look into them. Thankfully, this commanding tone was softened by the reserved friendliness behind the eyes. It was softened in the relaxed, if inebriation-induced, slack of her face, in the wry smile that she shot her guests whenever it seemed necessary not to give a single–

“Hey, Neon,” she mumbled.

Neon swallowed.

“Hey.”

She smirked.

“Come over here and sit down,” Octavia said, patting the cushion next to hers.

Neon obeyed, solemnly bowing his head towards her and slowly taking his seat, as if unsure or unworthy. She was beautiful, but in a sophisticated way.

Where Vinyl was generously proportioned, childish almost in a way, Octavia had a sleek, streamlined look to her body. Thin waist gave into thin hips which gave into a tasteful flank. It wasn’t large enough to be the centerpiece of her body, but enough to complement the rest of her form.

“I’m on around my third bowl of these,” Octavia chuckled, gesturing with a limp hoof towards a bowl of cheese puffs on the table. “Even the weak shit makes me hungry.”

Her voice was small, quiet, but held such crisp diction and precise word use that it made Neon feel almost underdressed. Yet the playful tone underneath it, the small giggle fits she repressed, the dulled look in her eyes all gave Neon means to relax.

Octavia was on-and-off with marijuana, and the only difference in her behavior when high was couch potatoism.

The cushion was still warm from somepony else laying upon it, likely Vinyl. Octavia took a hoofful of cheese puffs from the bowl, stuffing a healthy amount of them into her mouth and chewing slowly. Vinyl looked into the bowl, then raised an eyebrow at Octavia, and the latter mare tittered like a schoolfilly.

“Lemme go and refill that,” Vinyl said, trotting off to the kitchen, flashing Neon and Octavia a sly wink. He swallowed, and took a contemplative breath through his nose, blue eyes flitting to Octavia’s, who looked at him with unusual intensity.

Neon smiled nervously. Octavia’s eyes twinkled with delight.

“I’m not gonna make you smoke if you don’t want to.”

Neon’s eyes widened. “No! No, I mean, it’s cool. A lot of the shows I play get clouds of weed in the rafters and stuff. People like that shit. It’s cool.”

Octavia giggled, then cackled, then tried to swallow down her laughter and spluttered. “You don’t have to like it, Neon,” she said. “You really don’t. You not liking it would be the best thing I’ve heard about the habit besides Vinyl’s full and complete support of it.”

Neon’s shaky smile returned. “Thanks, but I really don’t have a problem with it.”

“Cool.”

He leaned back his head and closed his eyes, pushing his lips together, then pulling them apart, licking his teeth, trying to find words stuck in them. His ears perked up at the sound of music. Trotchovsky. Playing from the speakers on the other end of the room.

“What’s on your mind?” Octavia sighed, putting a hoof on his knee. He jumped, and she pulled it back, giggling in her mouth.

“Nothing!” Neon said, a bit too loudly. “Nothing at all. Trotchovsky, I guess.”

“Ah, so you recognised the composer,” Octavia hummed, raising an eyebrow.

Neon blushed. “Masters in Music and Composition, Tavi. It’s part of the whole music theory stuff they make you do.”

Octavia’s lips curled into a sly smile.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute.”

“What?”

“You have a Masters in Music and Composition, and you’re a DJ?”

Neon looked away. Octavia’s dulled eyes seemed to falter a bit, letting a bit of sympathy shift in.

“I dropped out to do DJ stuff. I liked it better.”

The wry grin grew. “I don’t blame you. Vinyl has a lot of fun with it.”

“Yeah…”

There was a brief silence between them. Octavia munched on cheese puffs while Neon tried to count the floorboards, the squealing violins threatening to push his brain out to let Octavia pick it apart. He couldn’t stand it. He got the feeling that she knew everything he was thinking in that moment, and was able to process it, even in her current state. It made Neon shudder to wonder how well she read people when she was sober.

“Do you recognize the movement?”

Neon shook his head.

“Violin Concert in D. Andante. One of my favorites.”

“Ah.”

Octavia giggled. “They do say a lot of music gets better when you’re high. As a lover of both music and weed, I can safely say that yes, some music is only tolerable when high as a kite. Example– Vinyl Scratch’s latest album.”

Vinyl gave a frustrated squeak from the kitchen, and Octavia broke in a laughing fit. Her laughter was uncharacteristic of the rest of her composure. It was loud. Boisterous, even. A wheezing, time-taking thing. But it was the sort of laugh that inspired others to laugh along. Neon gave a shaky chuckle alongside her. But the smile on his face barely held up, his eyes glancing about nervously as Octavia recovered, clearing her throat. Vinyl trotted in front of the couch, her nose scrunched up, sending Octavia into another fit of giggles as she raised the bag of cheese puffs in her magic and prepared to throw.

“I was kidding, Vinyl! Truthfully, I was!”

Vinyl huffed, flopping on the couch next to Octavia and pulling open the bag, leaning into her stoned marefriend.

“You’re lucky I’m such a doormat or you’d totally be getting it,” Vinyl mock-growled.

Octavia responded by nipping the tip of one of her ears, and Vinyl squeaked, pushing away and giggling.

“No!”

“Yes,” Octavia purred, licking her lips.

“No! They’re sensitive!”

“Good, that’s why I’m nipping them,” Octavia cackled, leaning in for another bite, Vinyl squeaking and laughing.

“No! Heehee! No, stop!”

Neon cleared his throat. Four eyes looked towards him in two shades of purple, and two smiles fell for a brief moment. Neon suddenly felt as if he had done something wrong. But he had their attention now. He could tell them how he felt about the whole thing. He needed to keep the friendship intact. This was the best way to go, the only way to go...

But it wouldn’t be right for him to spit on their hospitality.

He swallowed. That lump in his throat was getting annoying. “Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Vinyl said sheepishly. “Kinda left you out there.”

“No! It’s fine,” Neon shouted, pushing his back into the seat. His ears heated up as blood shot to them and made them stand up on end. “No, no, it’s totally okay! I…”

Octavia giggled feverishly. “Neon, are you all right?”

They needed to know. It was only right to tell them. Neon cleared his throat and prepared for the complete and utter annihilation of their friendship. The blast doors shut around his larynx and closed securely around his lips, but a single word slipped out, a lifeboat phrase making its way through, into the vast open seas of lives forever unbound.

“No.”

Both of the faces Neon addressed fell, delight and happiness muddied by concern. Iit was these looks that brought shame, hot and powerful. His blood-filled ears now deflated and drooped back as he pawed at the space in between his rear legs aimlessly.

“I just… I don’t feel right about this. Like, at all.”

Octavia rolled off her marefriend, sitting next to Neon and beckoning for Vinyl to join them, a comforting hoof placed on his shoulder. She leaned in to nuzzle him under his chin, but Neon stiffened. She frowned, pulling back, then let the faint trace of a smirk play along her thin lips.

“What about it bothers you?” she breathed, her voice, as inebriated yet collected as it was, still able to convey concern.

“It just… I dunno,” Neon sighed. “I mean, I haven’t seen either of you for years. I don’t know what’s changed or anything. I don’t know what I mean to you guys. It’s a bit much to– well, to…”

“Menage a trois?”

Neon and Vinyl both blushed heavily, and Octavia chuckled into her mouth.

“Yeah,” he squeaked. “Yeah, that’s exactly it. I mean, if you like let me know that was what you were thinkin’ after a few lunches or dinners or something, I guess I’d feel a little less weird about it, but I mean, I just… We lost track of each other all this time and it’s like, it’s like…”

He put his face into his hooves. Vinyl wrapped a foreleg around his shoulders and put her head against him.

“It’s okay,” she murmured, her voice shaky. “You can say it.”

Neon’s expression turned to stone.

“It’s like I’m just a… a whore to you guys.”

“Oh, Neon,” Vinyl said softly, covering her mouth with a hoof, eyes wide and tearful.

He couldn’t stand to even glance at her, keeping his eyes pinned to the floor. He didn’t want to see how much a simple denial had hurt her. His eyes instead went to Octavia.

She had a mischievous smile playing on her lips as she leaned into him, giggling in her throat, face screwed up as if barely holding back her laughter. Vinyl glared at her, eyes tearful, flashing of indignity.

“Tavi!”

She bit her lip to try and hold in her laughter. “What? I mean, that’s what he’s been worried about?!”

“This is serious, Tavi! try to think through the brain cells you’ve been killing for the past half-hour!”

“I am!” Octavia sniggered. “I… Have been! I… baaahahaha! Neeon!”

Vinyl crossed her hooves and glared at her marefriend. Neon Lights tried to move out of her warm, smoke-scented grasp, but to no avail. She had a surprisingly tight grip around his shoulders, and tried as he might, she wasn’t about to let him go. She put her mouth against his ear, not kissing or sucking, but just keeping it there. Her body shuddered, partially out of the strain of keeping its weakened muscles from letting Neon go, and partially from the slowly dying laughter that rocked through her lungs. Neon felt the heaviest shame on his shoulders. Octavia’s easy laughter felt like a punch to the gut, and all he could do was sit and stay, beaten into obedience.

“Neon, friend,” Octavia hummed. “My good stallion.”

“What?” he muttered, his voice darkly patient.

“Neon,” she said again. “Neon, Neon, Neon. How long have you known us?”

“Vinyl since forever. You since college.”

“Right. Essentially, a long-ass time,” Octavia said with a smirk.

“Essentially,” he sighed.

“If we wanted a whore, we would have called a whore. We want you.”

“But why?!” Neon cried, flailing a hoof under Octavia’s iron grip. “Why me? We haven’t seen each other in years!”

“So?”

“So,” Neon grunted. “What if I called you up after not seeing you in forever and told you I wanted you to come over for a quick fuck?!”

“I would have to talk to Vinyl about it,” Octavia said, the smirk on her face widening, her cheeks betraying a hint of pink.

Two pairs of eyes traveled to the mare on Neon’s opposite side. Vinyl had watched the back-and-forth banter with a somewhat disapproving look, particularly aimed at her marefriend. Her brow was furrowed, her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and her ears drooped a little bit and twitched every once in a while. Her face relaxed slightly as the stares sunk in, but she still regarded her marefriend with the slightest touch of a stinkeye.

“What?”

“Vinyl, if Neon called and asked for a quick fuck, what would you say?”

In seconds, Vinyl’s composure changed completely, her eyes widening and her face turning bright red, her ears standing on end.

“Oh.”

“You’d say ‘oh’? Wasn’t tonight’s planned… Stuff and things your idea?”

Now it was Neon’s turn to widen his eyes.

“It was her idea?!”

Vinyl giggled nervously. “Yep.”

“The way Tavi’s been carrying on, you’d figure she came up with it!”

Octavia finally pulled back the hug, and Neon heaved the largest breath he had taken in a long time. She was smiling, softly now, sincerely, and as Neon looked over her face he could see the pink receding from her eyes. She was sobering up. Octavia seemed past the point of caring, letting it fade away, putting a hoof on Neon’s shoulder, her eyes sparkling with honesty and compassion.

“If it makes Vinyl happy, it makes me happy,” she said. “And if I’m stoned and it makes Vinyl happy, it makes me really happy.”

Happy.

Neon leaned back. Two faces, two pairs of eyes; one trying to cover her embarrassed grin, the other with a knowing, honest smile. These were two mares he thought he knew, and now he wasn’t sure what to think about either of them. His mouth went dry and he could feel his lips cracking, the skin on them peeling off like the layers of an onion. He licked, trying to feed them moisture, but they still felt raw.

“Why, Vinyl?” he croaked.

She swallowed, hesitating. Octavia gave a nod, and Vinyl closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Because I can trust you.”

Neon blinked.

“Th-That’s it?”

Vinyl nodded. Neon put his head in his hooves.

“That’s it...” he muttered.

“Yeah.”

“And there’s nopony else you could have asked?”

Vinyl tapped her hooves together. “There wasn’t anypony else I wanted to ask, Neon. I mean, we’ve known each other since like forever. This is really important to me. Like, vitally important. A whore’s a whore, Neon. They’ve got, like, rules and obligations. They treat you all nice, but it’s all artificial. It’s not genuine. It’s not you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Neon, I don’t want this to be a one-time thing,” Vinyl said, picking up his hoof. “Neon…”

“We were thinking you could be a part of this,” Octavia giggled, picking up his other one. “A coltfriend for two.”

Neon’s spinning head spun harder, and he closed his eyes, thinking.

Vinyl was beautiful, doubtless, and so was Octavia, but it was off-putting to be asked to become a part of this, to butt into that perfect love and be somepony to them. More than a friend, somepony they could depend on. They had a nice house, a lovely, secure relationship, two high-end jobs, and they wanted somepony to share it with.

“I…”

He squeezed his shut eyes, frowning in thought. Two warm bodies pressed up against his own. He stopped breathing for a moment to listen to their panting. In, out, light, waiting on his word. Waiting on him to make a decision. The pressure mounted in his temples, and Neon shut down his mind to experience the world around him. Warm bodies, the smells that surrounded him of weed barely masked by Febreezies and cheese puffs. Of Vinyl’s shampoo. Kid’s shampoo, that’s what she used, P’oreal, Wild Wave Berry. Sweet, pungent, driving into his senses, soothing them, the end of the Trotchovsky air playing in the background. One last, shrill note on the violin, before breaking down, slowing down a moment in time.

That moment of time was a brief instance of clarity; A moment where futures were weighed in milliseconds, chosen in billiseconds, and answered in trilliseconds.

Neon cleared his throat. His eyes were still shut, but he knew that two magenta pairs of them were trained on him expectantly. There was the factor of it not working out. That he could lose everything he had with Vinyl and Octavia, wash away a perfect pair of treasured friendships and snuff out the flame that he had tenderly kept for years. This threatened all of them, all of their thoughts and feelings, and of what they knew.

He was here, not even having to open his eyes to know what they were thinking. They had to have thought about this. It wasn’t Vinyl who wanted him involved or Octavia who wanted him involved. He felt no envy in their words. They both wanted him.

If they could do it...

“I mean…”

Their breathing stopped.

“You mean?” Octavia cooed.

“I mean… This is heavy shit.”

Their ears drooped, and both let out a sigh akin to a child who hadn’t gotten a valentine on Hearts and Hooves Day. A frog rose in his throat, and Neon couldn’t help but smile at unintentionally leading them on. He cleared away the invading amphibian and looked them in their puppy-dog eyes.

“But I mean, if you guys think it can work, I can give it a shot.”

There was a small, stiff silence, and Neon felt like a lone ant in a sandbox. Their breathing began again, Octavia’s slow, relieved, and Vinyl’s starting out so, then immediately speeding up. He glanced down at the mare to his left, raising a concerned eyebrow.

“Vinyl?”

She was sweating with excitement, eyes wide, lips quivering, her entire body a shaking form of repressed emotion. She grabbed his hoof tighter, making Neon wince at the intensity of her quivering grip. Her eyes were loving and lustful all the same as her legs started kicking out. Neon’s ears perked up as he heard a little noise coming from her throat, a hum that seemed to resonate through her body, and he leaned in.

“Vinyl?”

She let out an eep.

“Do you really mean it?”

Her eyes sparkled with a million things. Wanting, hope, happiness. Neon’s heart sung at the sight of it. Her voice was wavering, caught in her throat and raspy. Neon coughed into his hoof, leaning back again.

“I mean, I was thinking about it on the way here, and I was worried,” he murmured. “But now I think… Maybe it could work. Just maybe. At least it’s worth it giving it a shot.”

“You’ll do it?”

Neon nodded.

Vinyl squealed like a little filly and tackled him. Neon let out a shout as he fell on top of Octavia, who let out a grunt as the weight of two ponies smushed her into the couch. Happy squeals and giggles left Vinyl’s mouth and drilled into Neon’s ears ad nauseum, spreading the joy in her laughter, causing him to chuckle. Octavia, for the most part, simply shook with amusement and gasped for breath, her hooves pushing up at the two unicorns on top of her.

“Vinyl?” she gasped.

“What?”

Octavia let out another raspy wheeze of protest. Vinyl’s eyes widened in realization and embarrassment as she shot up to a sitting position, blushing furiously and mumbling apologies. Octavia pushed Neon off of her and sat up, gasping for air, giving Vinyl a sly wink.

“I thought you said you were losing weight?” she sniggered.

Vinyl laughed. “Shut up!”

And all three ponies on the couch collapsed into giggles, and Neon felt giddy, happy. The tension from before was nothing more than a wisp, and somehow, this new… arrangement with Octavia and Vinyl seemed plausible, when before it had looked… shallow. Looked like a future to be forgotten about the next day and ruin the rest of their lives. He didn’t have to do this. They wanted him to do this, but at his pace, at his leisure. It was just as much about him as it was about them.

Neon took comfort in that. Any other insecurities he felt faded into the background. He was just glad that this was his decision, or that really, it was a decision he had any voice in at all. The laughter died down, and the trio sat in silence for a moment, enjoying each other’s presence, each other’s company. Like the good old days.

Neon sat back and watched their faces. Vinyl’s eyes sparkled with glee, her face drawn in a helpless, unconscious smile. Octavia’s look was cool, collected, a trademark smirk on her lips. Neon felt that maybe he wasn’t the only one taking a risk, that maybe he wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to impose. Vinyl’s eyes were teary, and Neon surmised that it must have taken so much strength for her to even make her proposition to him during that fated phone call.

Vinyl rested her head on his chest, and Octavia followed suit, making Neon an equine pillow. Neon stroked their manes, feeling soft, fine hairs underneath his hooves, and he let out a satisfied coo.

“So,” he said after a small while.

“So,” Vinyl and Octavia echoed simultaneously. They giggled for a second, then fell back into solemn, listening silence.

Neon coughed. “Night’s still young, girls.”

Octavia looked up at Neon with a daredevil grin.

“Ya still mix drinks, Neon?”

He returned the grin in full. “Ya still a Cosmare girl, Tavi?”

And the night went onwards to the basement, and thus, the bar.