Winter ducked, a bolt darting overhead as he took a turn into an alleyway. He was panting heavily, the exhilarating thrill of being hunted making his heart pound against his chest. He had already taken out at least seven assailants, leaving maybe half a dozen more still looking for him. He propped himself against the crossbow, working the handle at the back to pull the string into firing position. With trained, fluid motion he scooped a bolt from the quiver on his side and placed it securely in the thin cavity running along the length of the weapon. He shook the contraption lightly, making sure the projectile wouldn’t fall off. Satisfied, he risked a peek around the corner.

A lone hooded figure advanced down the street, no weapon in sight. It’s wings, faintly visible in the moonlight, were bouncing along with the peculiarly strutting equine. The sergeant didn’t know what the enemy was thinking, or if he was even aware of the situation at all, but a target was a target. Carefully, the stallion raised the crossbow to eye-level, excitement rising as he drew a bead on the enemy.

The hooded equine stopped dead in it’s tracks, suddenly looking around feverishly, as if it lost something. Due to it’s fidgeting the sergeant was delaying the shot - he was going for a perfect headshot and could not afford to miss. Without much warning the figure’s head snapped to look at Winter. In a blink of an eye the enemy was face to face with the confused and mortified sergeant. The stallion tried pulling the trigger then and there, but his weapon was gone!

The hooded figure put a hoof to its hood and slowly, almost dramatically started pulling it away. Winter’s heart sank. All he could hear was a constant booming of rushing blood. His breathing was shallow and strained as he watched a muzzle emerge from the shadows of the cloth. Mere inches away from his own snout, the enemy’s face popped into view.

“Hello! How are you?” chirped Wing Dancer, cocking his head to the side.

* * *

Winter Snow woke up with a startled yelp. He flailed his hooves around, shocked and unaware of his surroundings. He heard a thud from below the sofa he was apparently sleeping on.

“Owwieee," moaned a voice.

The sergeant’s mind was slowly starting to catch up on current events and the state of his body. The stallion was lying on his back comfortably. He felt rested and his heart slowly begun settling down, along with his breathing. He felt particularly well in the lower parts of his body. Looking down, he was shocked to see his member at full attention, the flared cockhead wet and sticky. The feeling of a recent orgasm kicked in, sending a pleasant shudder down the stallion’s back. His mind kept connecting the dots dutifully, though, soon realising that his rod doesn’t usually look like that in the morning. He looked to the side where a shape begun emerging from beneath the sofa.

Wing Dancer rose to meet Snow’s surprised muzzle. The batpony’s jaw was a bit winded from the powerful buck he received, and he felt a small bruise build up under his cheek. With his tongue he checked all his teeth, happy he didn’t chip any of them. He giggled nervously at the confused guardspony. “Hehe, sorry about that. I didn’t mean to wake you up," he hissed through the dull pain, opening and closing his jaw several times before continuing: “Totally worth it though."

The sergeant felt blood rush away from his nethers, nestling at his cheeks instead. He looked at the batpony picking himself up hazily, some cum still left on the tip of his nose. The colt gave him a morning blowjob and got a kick to the head in return. If there ever was an awkward sexual situation in his life, this one definitely took the cake, all 3 medals and employee of the month award.

“I-I’m sorry," he stuttered out, delicately reaching his hooves to the batpony’s face. “I didn’t mean to do that. I-I’ve never…you know. And from a...oh sweet sun, it’ll leave a bruise won’t it?” he whispered, gently nudging Wing’s smiling face to the side to see a sizeable darker spot.

“I’ll be fine," smiled the batpony in return, grabbing the hoof and brushing his other cheek against it. “It was my fault for doing this without asking, hehe," he chuckled, swiping his tongue at his nose, the lone strand of cum disappearing in his mouth. “I didn’t know when you had to wake up, and...well, I just wanted to surprise you. You’re not mad at me, are you?”

The guard snorted in disbelief. How was this petite pony for real? “Of course I’m not! I actually feel pretty good," he muttered. He felt like kissing the beaming muzzle in front of him, but the thought of tasting his own cum, even the slightest chance of it, repulsed him. He could barely process the urge he had to kiss a stallion. Thinking back at the things that happened yesterday, now that the lust and urge for release was gone, he felt kind of uneasy.

“Something wrong?” asked the batpony, noticing the hoof he was snuggling against pull away slowly. He really liked the guard - he was rough, much more than the ones he met before, but he seemed to just have developed a hard shell, beneath which resided a fun and passionate pony. The batcolt knew he’d like to spend more time with the stallion from the moment their lips first touched.

“No, it’s, uh...” stammered the guard, rubbing his neck slowly. “I’m just...still kind of...confused, I guess?” he gave a small apologetic smile to the somewhat deflated Wing Dancer. “I really like you, and I honestly...enjoyed our time yesterday," he blushed, breaking eye contact and lying back to stare at the ceiling. “It’s just...uh, I don’t...I’m not certain I swing that way. Don’t get me wrong - it didn’t even cross my mind I’d be doing all those...those crazy things we did yesterday," he continued, frantically gesturing with his hooves. He hesitantly glanced back at the batpony, registering his slouched form and eyes stuck to the floor. The sergeant sighed and crumpled his nose. “That came out wrong," he said, rolling off the sofa to face the ash colt. He put a hoof to his chin, pushing it upwards slightly, gazing into the sad blue eyes.

“Listen. You’re really a great guy. Tender, caring, cheerful. And an amazing...lover," stammered out the sergeant, gulping. “I don’t really know how to feel about all this. I wish I knew. I’d love to be one way or the other. I...I just need time to figure this out, okay? I don’t want to see you sad, I really don’t. I promise I’ll think really hard about it today, okay?” he asked, gazing into the big blue orbs of his listener. He recognised a glimpse of hope, a smile growing on the batpony’s face. “That’s what I like to see," sighed the guard, with a bit of hesitation settling for pressing his forehead against the colt’s. He really liked those sparkling, ocean-like eyes.

* * *

“Whoa, what have you been up to yesterday?” chuckled Rising Star, catching up to his friend and ogling him over.

Winter’s heart skipped a beat. Was it that obvious? How did he guess? Was there something left on his coat? What would his friend think about him now?

The rising panic was cut short when Star poked at Snow’s side, indicating a giant black mark. “Is that a bruise or something else? What have you been doing, sir”

“You should have seen the other guy," nervously replied Winter, shooing away the other pony’s hoof. “I totally facefucked him.”

A short pause and quizzical look from his subordinate made the white stallion realise what he had just said. Waving his hoof around frantically he blurted out: “Fucked up his face. Gah. Too much cider yesterday. Whatever.” He picked up the pace, forcing his friend to trot just to keep up with his larger frame.

“Oh, okay. Hehe. Nice one," replied the brown coated guard, suspiciously eyeing the sergeant. “Would it perchance be the guy who you had a ‘last minute maintenance assignment’ with?." Star grinned widely as he saw his words strike home, Snow’s already white muzzle becoming even paler. Rising continued in a sing-sang voice: “Don’t worry, they didn’t write you up. The bat that actually noticed you didn’t file a report. I just heard it over at the barracks first thing in the morning. Rumors do spread incredibly fast over there, you know.”

The private could barely stop himself from grinning, observing his superior stop dead in his tracks and tense up. He continued with a snickering tone: “You know, funny thing actually. That nightie got a pretty good look at ‘the other guy’, and I swear, if I didn’t know you any better, I’d say you went out with the colt I was talking about yesterday. You know? The one you could have a good time with? The one you refused to even meet in the first place?”

Winter had nothing. Each word Rising spoke sank in like a dagger into his mind and back. He felt chills all over as a simultaneous explosion of realisations erupted under his skull.

He was set up. All this was an elaborate game, planned out to actually prove him wrong. They arranged it all and hooked him up with a goddamn male escort. Every part of yesterday, starting from the spill and ending on the sofa - it was an act and there was nothing sincere or genuine about it. He was played. He felt like he was being patronised, like a child that didn’t know any better.

Rising Star noticed his friend gritting his teeth and immediately shut up, bashing himself for pushing the joke too far. In silence, the two moved on with their patrol.

* * *

It was a busy day at the arcades. A warm summer afternoon like this was bound to bring tons of customers to the cool, dimly lit interior. Wing Dancer was scrambling behind the soda bar counter, handing out drinks and cans of icy cold pops, all the while grinning and chatting up patrons.

Having worked there for almost four years, he was well known and liked, a mascot of sorts for the arcade. The batpony had mentions in high scores on nearly every machine, holding a spot in the top three on at least half a dozen. Whenever he wasn’t serving drinks or sweeping the place up he was playing, surrounded by groups of awe-struck fillies and colts.

The older teens resented the stallion, though - those from the richer families naturally looked down on the clerk whose entire life seemed to consist of his job and video games. The colt himself didn’t mind it much, being open about his lack of aspirations or the skills to move onwards, satisfied with entertaining the arcade’s patrons and regulars. That’s how he understood his present cutie mark - to bring joy and make ponies’ days brighter.

“So, what’s up Wingie?” asked a regular, sipping his icy juice at the bar. “You seem kinda distracted. New game coming in or what?”

The batcolt chuckled, wiping off a recent sticky soda stain. “No, not really. It has nothing to do with games. Let’s just say I had a pleasant evening yesterday,” he said, a wide grin bubbling up onto his muzzle. “And I am very hopeful for the near future.”

The regular whistled, raising his eyebrows. “Well, that’s a first. Hope everything turns out well for ya!” he said, putting away an empty glass. “Can you change this for me?”

“Sure!” replied the batpony, swiping the 10 bit coin thrown at him and replacing it with a dozen smaller silvers that fit the arcade’s coin slots. “Six for five as per usual, sir. Good luck!”

The regular shot the ash colt a smile and trotted off into the crowd, leaving the sighing batpony to his own thoughts. He usually enjoyed his time inside, often roaming between the machines and advising patrons on best gaming tactics, but today was special. He wanted to get off work as soon as possible and wait for Winter Snow to knock on his door. The colt blushed heavily, imagining all the possible scenarios - would the stallion ask him out for dinner? Would he barge in with a forceful kiss, taking the submissive batpony as his own? Or maybe he’d arrive on his doorstep all red on the face, trying to confess his feelings in that unbelievably cute stammering voice of his?

“Hey, nerd! I want a PowerJuice, now!”

Dancer snapped out of his wishful thinking, the screaming youth swatting at him from behind the counter. The batpony recognised him as one of the troublemakers - all talk and no game. Nonetheless, with as wide a grin as possible, the nocturnal pony dove to the fridge and placed the iced can in front of the impatient teen. “That’ll be 3 bits, please,“ he asked.

The patron glanced back to his friends and smirked, reaching out for the beverage. “I think I should get this for free. I already spent a load of cash in this hell hole. It’s unfair of you to charge me for a cold drink on such a hot day!”

Having dealt with this kind of situation before, the batpony nudged the can to the side, placing his hoof on the surprised kid’s leg. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir. I can go and ask the owner if you could get a discount, but I am positive he would not appreciate me handing out his stock for free. Should I-”

“Don’t touch me, nerd!” screamed the teenager, pulling away. “You know who I am?! I’ll get your sorry ass fired! I demand my drink for free! And for my friends too! It’s so hot in here, you probably turned off the ventilators yourself to make poor blokes buy your crappy soda anyway! Do I look like a sodding loser to you?!”

“I’m sorry, sir. Due to your disrespectful behavior and unreasonable demands, I am refusing you service. You are being disturbing to the other guests and I watched you and your friends roam around the arcade without playing a single game, even going so far as to manhandling some of the more delicate pieces of equipment around here. Please, leave. Now.”

The young pegasus fumed, his wings flaring out in rage. He stuttered for a longer time, thrashing his front hooves against the top of the bar in a fit. “I demand to see your manager! I’ll get your noob ass fired! My father is an important pony in the Castle! He’ll send the guards to arrest you and throw your sorry flank in jail till you rot and die!” he screamed at the top of his lungs.

“Very well. Please wait,” chirped the batpony, dashing to the back to fetch the arcade’s owner, a burly earth pony who hated spoiled brats with a passion.

* * *

Winter has been shooting dirty looks at anyone who even as much as smirked in his vicinity. He was angry and frustrated, barely controlling himself and blowing up in other ponies’ faces at the tip of a hat. He still couldn’t get over how well he was played - him, a sergeant and proud stallion. A straight guy who was tricked into making love to another colt. He felt sick to the stomach.

All day long he only wanted to finish his shift, storm over to the arcade or that damned batpony’s house and scream out his frustration, his betrayed feelings. For Celestia’s sake, that dirty rat made him feel guilty over the whole ordeal. He was actually considering making an effort, looking past the physical differences and embracing this new situation.

“Well, not anymore,” angrily muttered the stallion, stomping down the corridor. He seemed to have lost Star somewhere, but he didn’t care. “It was probably his idea anyway. He’ll be lucky if I don’t bump into him ever again. I mean, his neck could accidentally make a few unexpected turns.”

He desperately tried to keep his flames of rage nice and warm. He had to keep himself that way till he confronted the betrayer. He didn’t want to show he was hurt or disappointed. He didn’t want to admit he felt a bond with the batpony, that he actually started convincing himself that maybe he was looking towards the wrong gender. No - he just wanted to scream it all out, maybe even punch the escort between his glittering eyes and run away.

That sounded like a great plan and Snow smiled under his breath. It was a really nasty grin.

* * *

Wing tapped his hoof impatiently, waiting for the maintenance pony to arrive with a trolley. He felt really unlucky - his boss asked him to stay and wait for a guy to replace the machine that the angry teen from earlier smashed before getting thrown out. The whole drama ended up with the militia getting involved, testimonials being written down and, well, Dancer having to wait for the maintenance worker.

It was getting dark outside and the colt hoped that Winter hadn’t tried to visit him yet - he really wanted to spend more time with the guard and, more importantly, convince him to at least give the batpony a shot. He had a few tricks ready and was practicing a variety of touching lines before the accident. He was ready and eager to put them to good use.

His ears twitched as the creaky doors to the arcade swung open. The batpony sighed with relief, trotting over. “About time you showed up. This way, the machine is in the ba-”

He stopped dead in his tracks. An involuntary smile burst onto his muzzle when, of all the ponies, it was Winter Snow who stood in the door frame.

“Winter! Sir! Hi! I-I didn’t expect you here! Wow, it’s so great you came!” rattled out the breathless colt, his heart pounding with excitement and anticipation.

“Yeah,” coldly replied Snow, letting go of the door with a shove. “I’m glad I caught you too. Let’s talk.”

Author's Note

Oh my >.>