Chapters The whole thing was Derpy’s fault, naturally. How she got to be station manager in the first place is beyond Vinyl’s comprehension, considering she’s the weirdest mare Vinyl has ever met, and she doesn’t even care if the DJs show up on time and doesn’t bother to dress appropriately even for important meetings with big shot executives. And of all the different station managers that Vinyl and Octavia have worked for together, Derpy has the strangest ideas of how to run the station and what makes for good programming.
But somehow Derpy’s dumb idea of entertainment seems to work, because The Pon3 Mix is the most popular morning show in Canterlot. So when Octavia announces in her soft voice that they’re playing Truth or Dare with callers today, the switchboard starts lighting up immediately.
Octavia switches off their mics as the next song in rotation starts to play and turns to Vinyl who is staring at her grumpily. “What is it?” she asks patiently, taking hold of the coffee the intern, Colgate, had brought her this morning and raising it to her parted lips.
“What do you think?” Vinyl asks, rolling her eyes. “We’re really doing the Truth or Dare thing like a bunch of middle school fillies?”
Octavia shrugs one shoulder in that infuriatingly nonchalant way of her. “Why not? I think it’s endearing that our listeners care enough about us to want to know more about our lives outside of the show.”
“That’s not the part I’m worried about.” Vinyl gestures accusingly at Octavia. “We’ll see how much you like it when they’re daring you to go out into the street dressed only in socks” She raises her eyebrows pointedly at Octavia over the brim of her own coffee cup as she takes a swig.
Octavia’ brow furrows and her mouth curves downwards into a frown. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
Vinyl snorts. Her friend’s innocence would be adorable if it wasn’t so irritating. “What, you never played Truth or Dare as a filly, Octavia? Running around in nothing but stripped socks, kissing the pony you like in front of all your friends, putting a raw egg in your hair? You never did any of that?”
Octavia shakes her head, her lips pursing in that disapproving way she has that says ‘You such a filly, Vinyl’, usually reserved for when Vinyl leaves her dirty dishes all over the house they own together, or forgets to do said dishes for the fourth day in a row, or has really loud, enthusiastic sex with some random mare or occasional stallion she picked up in a bar, the sounds of which keep Octavia up all night.
“You know I didn’t have what you would consider a normal childhood, Vinyl,” Octavia chides her, because yeah, that’s right, Octavia had the strictest upbringing imaginable and was forced to go to boarding school like a good little rich filly. And she didn’t even do the things that naughty prep school fillies are supposed to do; she actually studied.
Too bad for Octavia’ stuck up totalitarian parents that she'd dropped them like a hot potato when they’d tried to get her to become a professional musician like the rest of her family, taking an English major instead. And she’d given all that up, too, when her parents cut her off, and switched to Broadcasting in order to get a decent job in a hurry. She hadn’t expected to like it though, and she hadn’t expected to befriend Vinyl, firmly sealing her fate as the Black Sheep of the family.
“Well, take my word for it,” Vinyl says, “and stick with Truth.” That’s her plan and she might get in trouble for it later when the show ends up being incredibly boring, but at least with Truth she can just lie; no one will even know the difference. Vinyl’s not proud of it, but she’s pretty good at lying.
Okay, so maybe she is a little bit proud.
The song comes to a close and Vinyl flicks on her mic. “That was the new song from Imagine Dragons, and you’re listening to The Octavia and Vinyl Show. I’m Vinyl, and me and my friend Octavia are playing-” she glares at her co-host before continuing brightly- “Truth or Dare!”
“Right now we’ve got our first caller on the line,” Octavia continues seamlessly. “Hello Hoity Toity, are you there?”
A stallion’s nasally voice comes over the line. “Yes, good morning. I want to dare Vinyl-”
“Hey, hang on,” Vinyl interrupts quickly. “I haven’t played Truth or Dare since I was a filly but last I remember it was askee’s choice.” Octavia glares at Vinyl who grins back and shrugs at her as if to say whatcha gonna do?
The stallion on the line sighs and says “All right, fine. Truth or Dare?”
“Truth,” Vinyl replies smugly.
“Of course,” the stallion sneers, and they can almost hear the eye roll. “Before you became a radio DJ, what was your dream job?”
“Really, I’ve always wanted to do something with music, but if I could chose, it would have been a club DJ,” Vinyl answers easily, stretching out in her seat and lacing her hooves behind her head. “Definitely a club DJ, those party nights are awesome.”
Octavia leans into her mic, her eyes narrowed and a little smirk on her lips as she looks sidelong at Vinyl. “Yes, Vinyl here always imagined herself something of a genius when it comes to mixing music,” she mocks, ignoring Vinyl’s indignant gasp. “Her ‘wubs’ never did go over well though.”
Colgate’s laugh echoes from the desk outside the studio.
“Hey, you’re one to talk, Ms. Literature,” Vinyl shoots back at Octavia. Her mouth curves into a wicked grin. “All Octavia ever wanted was to have a PhD in Lit. Never did get it, though.” She laughs and winks salaciously at her co-host.
Octavia rolls her eyes. “Very funny, Vinyl.” She hits a button to transfer Hoity Toity back out to Colgate and another to pick up the next line. “Next caller.”
The calls keep coming and they both stick to Truth after Octavia goes against Vinyl’s advice and gives Dare a try. She ends up singing “The Itsy-Bitsy Spider” live on air in a deadpan voice while Vinyl practically rolls out of her seat, howling with laughter, hoof over her mic to dull the sounds. Then they are asked who their celebrity crushes are (Vinyl’s is Luna (because she’s badass) and Octavia says (obviously) Celestia) and Vinyl’s shocked to discover that she’s actually having a lot of fun.
Vinyl’s still chuckling over Octavia’ last answers (“How do you take your coffee?” “Caffeinated”) when she picks up the next call. “Hi, The Pon3 Mix?”
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Vinyl purrs over the line and she’s rewarded when Octavia has to purse her lips together to stifle her laugh.
Vinyl thinks that half the reason she does this - flirting ridiculously with the female callers - is to make Octavia laugh.
“Lyra,” the caller says succinctly.
“Hi Lyra,” she answers, letting her voice drop into a softer range. “You have a question for me and my friend Octavia, here?”
“Yes,” she says immediately, and then goes straight into “are you and Octavia secretly married?”
Vinyl’s speechless. This isn’t the first time someone has wondered if she and Octavia are together, but normally the calls don’t get through to the air. This must be - yep, there’s Colgate, peering in the window at them, practically dancing with glee at Vinyl’s discomfort. This must be payback for when she hid the nerd’s Magic cards last week.
She doesn’t have a sarcastic retort or even an immature innuendo to offer, and her mouth gapes open and closed like a goldfish before she finally manages to stutter out “N-no.”
“What about dating?” Lyra asks.
Octavia turns her head towards her co-host expectantly, her eyebrows raised as she waits in amused silence for Vinyl’s reply.
Finally Vinyl manages to squeak out “No, not dating either. We’re just friends.”
“So let me get this straight. You went to school together, you work together, you moved across the country together and you have a house that you own together? And you’re just friends?” She scoffs, the disbelief evident in her voice even over the phone. “Yeah, right.”
Okay, that all might be true, but only because Vinyl and Octavia make very good radio together. When Ponyville FM had changed hooves and the new management decided to go a different direction with their programming, they’d been let go and forced to move to find work. They ended up having to move several times over the years, bouncing from town to town, place to place, going where the work was - at least until Vinyl’s father had gotten sick and she’d decided to move back home to help him. Octavia could’ve stayed; the station they had been working at in Manehatten at the time had offered to let her keep her job and just replace her co-host, but she’d quit and moved home with Vinyl without a second thought, and Vinyl can’t even think about that too hard because of how much it meant that her best friend was there when she needed her. From there, it only made sense for them to buy a house together instead of continuing to rent, and they needed jobs to pay for the house. And that’s when they’d met Derpy and the rest is history.
But Vinyl can’t say any of that, because it doesn’t actually contradict anything Lyra’s saying, and she knows it. “Octavia, wanna help me out, here?” she asks desperately.
Octavia clears her throat, and there’s a tiny, smug smile playing on her lips, damn her. “Hi Lyra, this is Octavia. Vinyl’s telling you the truth, we’re not married or dating. We’re just good friends.” She pauses to take a sip of her coffee and Vinyl thinks she’s safe so she shoves about half a doughnut in her face like the classy individual she is.
But then Octavia - the traitor - is turning back to the mic and she says, to Vinyl’s complete and utter horror, “But we have slept together.”
It was chaos. “I KNEW IT!” Lyra crows triumphantly over the line, and Colgate screams a muffled “WHAT?” through the glass, her eyes bugging out as she stares back and forth between Octavia and Vinyl. Vinyl panics and hits the button to play their show title and then segue into the next song, hoping that the transition at least sounds somewhat purposeful and not like damage control, which it absolutely one hundred percent was.
“What the buck, Octavia?!” Vinyl wheezes around the chunks of doughnut still lodged in her throat. Octavia reaches over to casually thump her on the back.
“The game is called Truth or Dare, Vinyl,” the smug mare says, blinking innocently as if she hadn’t just dropped the biggest bombshell of FM radio in - like - ever.
“That’s not even what she asked!” Vinyl feels faint. “You realize you just outed us both on air to thousands of ponies, probably including everyone we know?”
Octavia blinks at her. “So? It’s not a secret, is it?”
“Well, now it certainly isn’t,” Vinyl grumbles. “Is this payback for me spilling cider on your book last week? I said I was sorry, it was an accident-”
“Vinyl,” Octavia interrupts, and Vinyl stutters to a halt. “Relax. If it upsets you so much, I’ll tell all our friends that it was a joke. We can even use the book as an excuse, if you want. I just,” she turns her head, diverting her eyes to squint up at one of the lights, “didn’t know it was such a big deal to you.”
It’s not a big deal. It’s not. But only because Vinyl has spent three years aggressively not thinking about the night that she and Octavia had a little too much cider while watching a marathon of the The Lord of the Rings trilogy and ended up on the couch. It was slow and sloppy and probably the dumbest thing Vinyl’s ever done, but it was still, to this day, the best sex of her entire life. But she doesn’t think about it. Ever.
“Whatever, it’s cool,” she mumbles, but she can’t meet Octavia's eyes.
The rest of their shift is subdued, and they cut the game short in favor of some dull conversation about a controversial news story, and Colgate is stuck fielding the calls which serves her right for starting this mess in the first place.
Derpy stops them on the way out of the station, slinging a scrawny hoof around each of them and pulling them to her sides. “Congratulations! I’m so happy for you! You mares make the cutest couple.”
Vinyl casts a pleading look around the back of Derpy’s head at Octavia, who rolls her eyes.
“Derpy, Vinyl would like me to clarify that we’re not together,” Octavia says. “It was one time, many years ago, and I shouldn’t have said it on air.” Her purple eyes slide back to meet Vinyl’s. “It was nothing.”
“Aw, that’s too bad,” Derpy says, giving them each a conciliatory pat after releasing them, and she gets out of there before Vinyl can protest that they don’t need consolation because they’re not in a relationship for Celestia’s sake, and why does no one believe them?!
Ok, so maybe Vinyl knows why no one believes them, but it doesn't mean she had to admit it to herself. To bad for Vinyl though, thoughts about today's Truth or Dare followed her all the way to bed, and into her dreams. She was so screwed.
Author's Note
Edited: 12/18/14
A few weeks later and Vinyl still was uneasy after the Truth or Dare incident.
“You’ve been acting strange and distant since I said that we’d slept together.”
Vinyl turns and scowls at her. “C'mon, do we really have to talk about that?”
Octavia glares at her. “Vinyl.”
Vinyl sighs exaggeratedly. “Alright fine. I’m sorry, okay? It’s just weird, we live together and we work together-”
“And that’s never bothered you before.” Octavia cocks her head inquisitively, studying Vinyl’s face as if she can read the reason that Vinyl’s being such a knob in her eyes or the tension around her mouth. “It was years ago, Vinyl. I fail to see why you’re behaving as if it was yesterday.”
Vinyl exhales, forcing the tension from her body, placing a hoof over her eyes. “Sorry. I just freaked, I guess. It was just a dumb drunken mistake that happened, and it doesn’t have to be a big deal.” She glares at her friend. “But you’re explaining to everyone that we’re not secretly married, or whatever.”
“Fine. Are you done being idiotic, now?”
“I’m not-”
“Vinyl.”
Vinyl rolls her eyes. “Yes, I’m done.”
“Good,” Octavia says, straightening and heading to the door, “because I have a date tonight and I don’t have time to deal with your neediness.”
“I’m not needy,” Vinyl grumbles, turning and heading to her room, trying not to dwell on the first part of Octavia’ sentence. A date? Since when? And with whom? And while she’s at it, since when does Vinyl care?
It’s not like Octavia never dates, although she definitely doesn’t do it as frequently or as obviously or as loudly as Vinyl. But she does occasionally go out in the evenings, and on occasion she even stumbles in the next morning, her hair sticking up every which way, mumbling a hello to Vinyl where she sits at the kitchen table before going straight to the shower.
For some reason, over the years, they’ve developed an unspoken agreement in which neither of them discusses their conquests. Relationships, sure, but it’s not like either of them has had one of those recently.
She opens her mouth to ask, but then Octavia says “And yes, before you ask, I most likely won’t be home tonight, so don’t wait up” and turns and heads out the door, making it clear that the conversation is over.
Vinyl, alone in her room after Octavia has left, lets her mind wander inexplicably to that night, three years ago, when close quarters and mutual attraction and Vinyl’s good friend Appaloosa brand Apple Cider had pushed them somewhere they’d never gone before, and hadn’t since.
It had been Octavia who started it, she thinks. They’d been arguing about the merits of Arwenny over Eowynny and why (in Vinyl’s opinion), Arwenny was useless. Then Octavia - the sore loser - had reached across the too-small distance between them and poked her hard in the side, and Vinyl had made an embarrassingly high pitched noise that made Octavia collapse into a fit of laughter, crinkles all around her eyes and her lips pulled back in a gummy smile. And then Vinyl had shoved her, but the good ol’ cider had thrown her off balance and made the room tilt alarmingly, and Vinyl fell against Octavia’ side. She could feel the heat of her, pressed in one long line beneath Vinyl, the jut of her hipbone against Vinyl’s own. Their faces were suddenly too close together, and Octavia wasn’t laughing anymore, her eyes flickering down to linger on Vinyl’s lips.
She’s jolted back to the present when the piercing sound of a dog barking outside comes through her open window. She’s alone in the house she shares with her best friend, who is out with her new marefriend Cherry Spices, and Vinyl has no right to hate her, no right at all, but she does. Not as much as she hates herself, though, nothing can compare to that. she thinks that she really is a great liar, but maybe the lie she’s told herself all these years since that night is the worst of all, and if only she hadn’t had to play that stupid game on air, and if only she hadn’t been forcefully reminded of that night, she might have been able to keep believing it.
Yep. This is all Derpy’s fault.
A few weeks after “the incident,” as Vinyl had labeled it, she picks up Neon Lights for their Saturday night ritual of salad and cider at The Canterlot Corral. Ever since Neon Lights got a job as the head DJ for the biggest club in the city, they’ve made a habit of hanging out once a week without fail to catch up, whatever else happens to be going on in their lives.
Vinyl’s walking along next to Neon Lights, who is in the middle of telling her a story about the new mare he’s totally gone on, when Vinyl spots the billboard out of the corner of her eye. Ignoring Neon Lights startled protests, Vinyl runs in front of him and over to the park located in front of the sign.
Vinyl skids to a stop and stares up at the bold white billboard, her mouth hanging open and eyes wide in disbelief. Neon Lights joins her a moment later, stepping up beside his friend with a similar expression of astonishment on his face.
In bold blue letters, the words The Octavia and Vinyl Show: The Pon3 Mix stretch across the bottom of the advertisement, and there’s Vinyl’s sexy mug, her lips pursed and eyebrow raised invitingly. Vinyl remembers the photoshoot they’d had a couple weeks back, and how she’d offered the guy her pose as a joke. The photographer had caught Octavia mid eye-roll, her forearms crossed over her chest in a typical moment of exasperation. Their backs are pressed together and Octavia’ head is tilted towards Vinyl’s so that it’s obvious to anyone who the object of her contempt is. But somehow, underneath the disapproval, there’s also a familiar affection that makes a smile tug insistently at the corners of Vinyl’s mouth, her chest filling with warmth as she looks up at the sign.
But the words on the leftmost side of the ad cancel all of that out, wiping the smile off of Vinyl’s face and replacing it with a burning flush and a gaping disbelief.
Are they, or aren’t they?
“Oh Celestia,” she groans with feeling, placing a hoof over her eyes. " Derpy!” Who in Celestia put that mare in charge any way?
Things had just settled down with Octavia after “the incident,” during which Octavia had blurted out to their thousands of listeners that she and Vinyl had had sex. Live. On Air. Which, by the way, had been Derpy’s fault too, since she was the one who started that stupid game of Truth or Dare in the first place. But now… now everything is going to be flipped on its head again, all because of this stupid billboard.
Neon Lights casts a sidelong look down at his friend. “I don’t think it’s as bad as you think. I mean, it’s good marketing, you’ve gotta give them that.”
Vinyl rolls her eyes. Sure, the stunt Octavia had pulled had boosted their ratings, increased the number of listeners (particularly of the young, female variety) who now tuned into their show, always waiting intently for Vinyl and Octavia to slip and reveal the true nature of their relationship. Which, regardless of how much Vinyl might wish it could be, was not the true nature of it at all.
“Doesn’t change the fact that it’s gonna make things tough for Octavia and me,” she grumbles. “Besides, Octavia has a marefriend, or didn’t you notice? How do you think she’s gonna feel about that sign?”
Vinyl spins on her heel and heads back to where they came, silently swearing along the way. Neon Lights follows more slowly, taking time to occasionally look back at the sign. He catches up but her eyes don’t leave Vinyls, boring into the side of her face.
“Sweet Celestia, what?”
Neon Lights studies her intently before answering. “Why does this bother you so much? Ponies have thought you and Octavia were together before and you were never this freaked.”
“It’s nothing, Neon Lights. Hurry up, I’m starving.”
Neon Lights makes no move to speed up his walking. “Vinyl, I know you. You can’t lie to me.”
Vinyl stays stubbornly silent, dropping her eyes to glare at the ground.
“Is it about Cherry Spices?”
Vinyl freezes and Neon Lights must see something on her face because he crows in triumph. “It is! You don’t like Cherry Spices!”
“It’s not that I don’t like her, per se,” Vinyl protests, because it isn’t. Octavia had brought Cherry Spices over for dinner a few days after Vinyl had found out there was a Cherry Spices in the first place. She was sweet and friendly and pretty, with wide green eyes and wavy red hair that fell softly around her face. She was even a little bit funny, and Vinyl had actually liked her a lot. If she were a better pony, she might actually want Octavia to settle down with this mare, move out, get married, have kids and the cat she’s always wanted but can’t have because Vinyl’s allergic.
Cherry Spices with her pretty face and her kind smile and her bakery, and being way better for Octavia than Vinyl could ever be. Cherry Spices and her sweetness that’s impossible to hate, even though Vinyl tried. Really, really hard.
“Then what is it?” Neon Lights asks, his voice is still amused. “Gonna finally admit that you’re in love with Octavia?”
“What?!” Vinyl yelps, her eyes snapping up to meet Neon Lights’. Her heart is pounding about a million beats a minute, her blood roaring in her ears, and she knows that her face must be flushed scarlet. “I am not in love with Octavia.”
Her jerk best friend barks a laugh. “Sure, Vinyl. Whatever you say. Next you’re gonna try to tell me you don’t like music.”
“Listen, Vinyl,” Neon Lights says patiently, “you can keep lying to yourself if you want, but we’ve known for a long time, okay? Everypony you know does. I bet if you even asked any of your last ex’s, they’d say the same.”
Vinyl’s head snaps up. “Everypony knows?” she asks incredulously, forgetting to deny it in her shock. “And none of you thought it would be a good idea to clue me in to this vital piece of information?”
Neon Lights laughs, dimples flashing in his cheeks - really, her best friend is sickeningly cute some times, and Vinyl doesn’t know why he doesn’t have mares lining up around the block for him.
“I dunno, Vinyl, I guess we just thought you were smart enough to figure that one out on your own,” Neon Lights says, reaching out to bump his friends side, mockingly consoling. “Looks like we overestimated you a little, there.”
Vinyl hits him.
“Ow, Vinyl! Take it easy!” Neon Lights glares, rubbing his side grumpily. “All of us kinda thought you were already together, at least until Octavia started bringing Cherry Spices around. We were just waiting for you to make it official. You just work, you know?”
Vinyl knows. There’s no way they could’ve lived together and worked together for the past eight years otherwise. Sure, Octavia yells at Vinyl for leaving their house a fucking sty and Vinyl might do it purposefully just to pay her back for all the times Octavia drank the last of the juice and left the empty carton in the fridge so Vinyl doesn’t know to buy more. And maybe Vinyl flips out at Octavia when Octavia buys crappy cider instead of the good stuff, which she knows Vinyl hates, and Octavia just rolls her eyes and says that it’s cheaper and they’re not millionaires and tells her not to drink it if she doesn’t like it. In fact, Octavia might roll her eyes nearly every time Vinyl opens her mouth, but Vinyl knows her well enough to see the humor underneath the expression, and maybe Vinyl tries extra hard to get a rise out of her because it’s just as endearing as her smile.
And sweet Celestia on a tortilla. She’s in love with Octavia.
“Son of Celestia,” Vinyl moans, placing a hoof over her face in frustration.
“There it is,” Neon Lights says quietly.
“I screwed up, Neon Lights,” Vinyl says into her hoof. “I messed up bad.” This whole ridiculous situation was awful enough when she just thought she really wanted to screw around with Octavia, but this? Being in love with her best friend who, oh yeah, has a marefriend? This is a thousand times worse.
She drops her hoof suddenly and moves faster. “Pick up the pace, Neon. There’s a bottle of cider at The Canterlot Corral with my name on it.”
“Cherry Spices saw the ad for the show,” Octavia says the next morning after making them breakfast, twiddling her empty fork as she squints down at her apple slices as if they’ve mortally offended her.
Aha. Vinyl was right, tired from the night before after coming home at two am and crashing on the couch from drinking waaaaay to much cider, but still right; she did have a problem with the insinuation on the ad that she and Octavia are together or whatever. She thinks that if her head were pounding less and she was less exhausted, she’d probably be feeling pretty triumphant right about now.
"I saw that same ad yesterday as a matter of fact," Vinyl rasps, bringing a glass of water to her lips.
Octavia fixes her with a sharp gaze. "That wouldn't happen to be the reason you decided to drown your troubles in cider, would it?"
Actually it is, Vinyl thinks. It’s because apparently, I’m in love with you, and the whole world knew it except for me, and I guess you, and it’s just been rubbed in my face in the form of a giant billboard. Vinyl shakes her head stubbornly, hoping that her flush isn't noticeable. "No, I don’t care,” she lies. “It's just PR."
"That's what I tried to tell Cherry Spices," Octavia says, running a hoof over her hair, making the already mussed strands from sleep stand even more on end. “I believe, from what I managed to understand, she is worried about what her family might think.” She sighs, turning to face Vinyl and leaning wearily against the countertop.
Vinyl shrugs feebly. Truth be told, she kind of gets it. She wouldn’t want her marefriend to be in an ad implying that she was in a relationship with somepony else either. “Just blame it all on Derpy. That’s what I’m gonna do.”
Octavia huffs a laugh and Vinyl smirks back at her, ignoring the stabbing pain behind her left eye as she does so. There’s a long moment where they just sit there grinning at each other like a couple of idiots, but then Octavia’ smile falters and she looks away, clearing her throat.
“How is Neon Lights?” Octavia asks, looking up when Vinyl nudges her with her elbow and taking one of the last pieces of apple left from the their shared plate.
Vinyl extends the plate with the apple slices, letting Octavia take another piece for herself. She tries and fails to stop herself from watching Octavia’ mouth close around the slice. Octavia catches her staring, raising her eyebrows expectantly, her face impassive, and Vinyl realizes that she’s already forgotten the question.
“Uh,” she says intelligently, heat rising in her cheeks.
Octavia rolls her eyes. “Neon Lights?” she prompts.
“Right.” Vinyl nods, taking a large bite of apple before continuing. “Neon Lights’ his usual suave but still-can’t-get-a-date self. Still pining after that mare that he hasn’t got the guts to ask out yet.” Never mind how long it’s been since Vinyl’s been on a date, or that she’s been in love with her roommate slash co-host slash best friend since approximately forever and is too chicken to even spend time at their house because of it. It’s totally different.
Octavia makes a noncommittal noise. “He still hasn’t asked her out?”
“I know right,” Vinyl says thickly, swallowing. “He needs to get his act together. He's been into her for months.”
“Maybe she’ll will get tired of waiting and make the first move,” Octavia suggests, watching Vinyl as she takes another bite.
Vinyl grins. “Celestia, I hope so. If she doesn’t, I’m gonna have to intervene.”
Octavia rolls her eyes, but Vinyl thinks she sees her lip twitch in barely concealed amusement. “How very kind of you.”
They lapse into silence as they finish the slices. Normally this type of silence between them is comfortable, easy, but Vinyl feels a growing tension in the room that she doesn’t know how to break. She knows now is the time she’s supposed to ask how Cherry Spices is, but she can’t bring herself to do it. It’s selfish and childish, but she’s in love with the mare and she doesn’t want to hear how great her marefriend is. Vinyl already knows she’s great, so much greater than she is, and she should be happy for Octavia but she’s finding it pretty hard to make that leap.
Thankfully, Octavia’ phone rings from its perch on the table, some classical song Vinyl doesn’t know ringing out into the quiet of the room. She shakes her head at Octavia’ taste as her friend answers the phone.
“Hello?” she says.
“Hey Octavia,” their boss’ cheery voice sounds shrilly through the speaker.
“Hello Derpy,” Octavia replies. “Vinyl’s here too.”
“Oh, hey Vinyl!”
Vinyl grunts “hello” back, rolling her eyes.
“Sorry to bother you both on your night off. Just wanted to let you know so you’re not blindsided when you get in, I’ve got a great plan for the show tomorrow!”
Derpy sounds way too excited, and Vinyl would be willing to bet that if they could see her, she’d be bouncing in that overexcited way of hers, like no self-respecting adult ever should. Vinyl smells trouble. She rolls her eyes, mumbling under her breath so that only Octavia can hear, “I swear to Celestia, if she says Truth or Dare-”
And sure enough, Derpy continues, “Truth or Dare!”
Octavia smirks across at Vinyl, who groans. “Really? Come on, we already did the Truth or Dare thing and it was a huge bust-”
“Are you kidding?” Derpy interrupts. “Everyone loved it! I’m thinking of starting up Truth or Dare Tuesdays, like a weekly thing? Except this time it’s caller’s choice.” She laughs to herself. “You’re not going to get away with only choosing Truth this time, mare!”
Vinyl shoots a pained look at Octavia, who is pressing her lips together tightly, trying not to laugh. They listen as Derpy explains the details of how the game is going to run this time before she hangs up, leaving them with cheery goodnight wishes. Vinyl mumbles something mutinous in response as Octavia disconnects the call and replaces her phone on the table.
“Don’t look so smug,” Vinyl warns Octavia who turns back to her, not even bothering to hide her amusement at Vinyl’s discomfort. “I’m going to bribe somepony to call in and dare you to burp the alphabet.”
So because Derpy is evil, Tuesday finds Octavia and Vinyl once again playing Truth or Dare in the studio with a bunch of equally evil callers. On Derpy’s instruction, they post pictures or videos of all the dares on the station’s trotter account as proof of their antics, so Vinyl can’t even lie and say she did what she’d been dared to.
Unable to avoid dares, Vinyl ends up singing this time while Octavia snorts into her coffee, but she gets her own back when Octavia is dared to run outside in the snow after having a bucket of cold water poured on her and comes back in swearing and hopping back and forth from one hoof to the other like a deranged flamingo. Thankfully, a couple of callers take pity on them after that and ask them some questions instead.
“What is your greatest fear?” a pony named Press Pass asks on Vinyl’s turn.
“I’m not afraid of anything,” Vinyl tries but Octavia just cocks an eyebrow in her direction.
“Oh really, Vinyl?” she says into her mic, casting a smug sidelong glance at her co-host. “So you’re not afraid of trains?”
Vinyl groans. “Ugh, c’mon that’s just low. It’s not fair that you know all my dirty little secrets.”
“Truth, Vinyl,” Octavia reminds her, smirking.
Vinyl rolls her eyes. “Trains aren’t hooves Octavia, they go much, much faster. Being afraid of trains isn't even embarrassing; it’s just good sense.”
Octavia leans over the desk in front of them, turning in her chair to face Vinyl more fully. “Not a single pony has ever died in a train crash,” she notes. “You’d be more likely to be trampled than to die by train.”
“Yeah, all right Ms. Know-It-All, shut up and take the next call,” Vinyl says, bumping her smug co-host and grinning in spite of herself.
Vinyl’s laughing when she answers the next call. “Hi, The Octavia and Vinyl show! Who am I speaking to?”
A familiar cheery voice comes over the line, filling Vinyl with a sense of dread that’s completely at odds with the cheerful perkiness of her voice. “Hi Vinyl, it’s Lyra. Remember me?”
“Ahh, Lyra, of course I remember you.” She’s hardly likely to forget the pony responsible for starting this whole gigantic mess. Vinyl wonders if she listens to the show religiously, biding her time, waiting for opportunities to call in and make her life horrible.
She glances at Octavia who squints back at her over the brim of her coffee cup. “Well, Lyra, do your worst. Truth or Dare?”
“Dare,” the voice comes back over the line. “I dare you to kiss Octavia.”
Everything inside the booth goes still, the only sound is Colgate’s loud whoop from the other side of the window. Vinyl feels Octavia’ eyes boring into her but she doesn’t dare meet her gaze.
She tries to laugh, grimacing when she hears how wooden it sounds in her own ears. “Listen, sweetheart, I can’t kiss Octavia. Ask me something else.”
“No. Way, Vinyl. The game is Truth or Dare. I dare you to kiss Octavia.”
Vinyl sighs. “Lyra, Octavia and I are friends, and Octavia has a -”
She’s cut off by a hoof that circles the back of her neck, tugging her forward. She has enough time to register that Octavia is close and moving closer, her eyes impossibly purple as they stare determinedly into Vinyl’s, before their lips are connecting. Vinyl’s eyes go crossed for a second in her shock, stiffening under the dry, soft touch of Octavia’ mouth to her own. Octavia tastes like the coffee she’d been drinking and the touch of her lips feels so good that there’s no room in Vinyl’s brain for anything else.
Then there’s the recorded click of a camera phone going off and Octavia draws back. Vinyl’s traitor body tries to follow before she can stop it, but her co-host isn’t even looking at her anymore. “Check our trotter feed, Lyra,” Octavia says into her mic. “I think you’ll be pleased.”
She starts up the next song and shuts off their mics, leaning back in her chair and tipping back her coffee cup as if absolutely nothing happened, as if she hadn’t just kissed Vinyl without the influence of alcohol for the first time ever, and hadn't just shaken Vinyl’s world down to its core.
Confusion and guilt flood back into Vinyl’s body, chasing away the last humming pulse of pleasure. “What in Celestia, Octavia?!” she splutters.
Octavia finally turns to face her, eyebrows raised. “What?”
Vinyl’s eyes bug out. “What do you mean, what? What was that?”
“I’m fairly certain it was a kiss,” Octavia replies dryly.
Vinyl can’t even begin to understand how one pony can be so irritating and so attractive all at the same time. “Uh, yeah, Octavia, it was a kiss.” An awesome kiss, too, but that’s beside the point. “But don’t you think maybe we shouldn’t be kissing?”
Octavia finally looks at her, and her eyes are carefully blank. “We’re just friends, Vinyl,” she says, her voice level, giving nothing away. “It didn’t mean anything.”
Vinyl feels her stomach sink down somewhere around the bottom of her back hooves but she nods jerkily. “Right. Didn’t mean anything.” She’s not sure Cherry Spices would agree, but that’s Octavia’ problem. And the empty, wanting feeling in Vinyl’s gut - that’s Vinyl’s problem because the kiss “didn’t mean anything”. At least not to Octavia, anyway.
The rest of the shift is awkward. Neither of them feel like playing Truth or Dare anymore, and Vinyl can tell Octavia wants to say something about the kiss but doesn't because they both feel the distinctly tense atmosphere in the booth. She keeps quiet, mercifully shushing Colgate when she opens her mouth to make a comment, and even Derpy falters as she slings her front hooves around them and squeezes them to her side like she always does.
As they walk home, Vinyl gets the distinct impression that Octavia is mad at her, but that’s totally unfair because Octavia is the one who kissed her, and she’s the one who’s aching and longing and wishing they could have something more than they do and hating herself for not realizing it until Octavia was already in a serious relationship with a sweet, wonderful mare who absolutely deserves to have somepony as awesome as Octavia.
As soon as they get home Octavia disappears into the kitchen instead of going to change for her afternoon run. Today she heads straight for the liquor cabinet which is very unlike Octavia, and just adds to the feeling of wrong that’s settled in Vinyl’s gut. “Anymore cider?” Octavia asks, her voice level but her eyes hard as she looks up at Vinyl.
“Drank it,” Vinyl grunts back, and she had, one night when Octavia wasn’t home, presumably at Cherry Spices’, one of those nights that Neon Lights was busy and Vinyl hadn’t wanted to face her feelings so she’d drank instead.
Octavia’ eyes narrow dangerously before she rises with a salt lick that somepony had left behind the last time they had a party and brushes past Vinyl without another word. Vinyl hears the TV come on in the other room and she takes it that she’s not invited. She realizes she really, really needs a drink right now. She heads to the door and calls over her shoulder that she’s going to the grab some cider, to which Octavia waves a hoof over the back of the couch distractedly and Vinyl grumbles all the way about stupid, irritating, gorgeous housemates and the mess her life has become.
Author's Note
EDITED: I tried to fix the complaints I've had in the comments.
Sorry, I promise it will be finished in a few weeks, only one more chapter to go.
Cherry Spices for anyone who wants to know what she looks like: http://vignette3.wikia.nocookie.net/mlp/images/1/12/Cherry_Spices_ID_S4E24.png/revision/latest?cb=20140507050435
Vinyl stops walking in the middle of the street outside the liquor stall, closing her eyes and willing it to be a dream. It’s a dream, she can’t really be there. This is not actually happening. She turns around.
Sweet ever loving Celestia.
Standing in front of her and smiling like sunshine is Cherry Spices, probably the last pony Vinyl would have wanted to see right about now. She has a shopping bag slung diagonally over her front, filled with vegetables from the market near the liquor stall.
Vinyl forces her mouth into a smile, hoping it doesn’t look too sickly. None of this is Cherry Spices’ fault, after all, and she doesn’t deserve whatever lashing Vinyl's rotten mood might want to give her. “Hey Cherry Spices,” she says. “How’re things? Long time no see.”
“Yes, I suppose it has been a while,” she says. “I’m well, how are you?”
Vinyl shrugs. “Same old,” she says noncommittally, hoping her guilt doesn’t show on her face. I’m in love with your marefriend and she kissed me today. You know. The usual.
She nods toward the cider in Vinyl's own shopping bag with a small smile. “Having a party?” She asks.
Vinyl huffs a laugh. “No, just uh… stocking up. How’s work?”
They exchange pleasantries, Cherry Spices telling her about her bakery and new recipes she’s trying out, and wondering if Neon Lights has had the guts to ask the mare he’s been mooning over out yet. Vinyl has to laugh at that one, and oh yeah, she remembers that she actually likes Cherry Spices, in spite of her jealousy. She feels a whole new wave of guilt wash over her.
“So,” she says then, looking nervous for the first time since she’d stopped her. “How’s Octavia?”
“She’s - what?” Vinyl blinks at her. “What do you mean ‘how’s Octavia?’”
She shifts restlessly, her bag of vegetables rustling. “Well you know, I haven’t talked to her since the breakup. I know it’s not any of my business anymore but I still want her to be happy -”
“Hang on a second.” Vinyl holds up a hoof, her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish as she tries to process what Cherry Spices is saying. Cherry Spices stares at her wide-eyed, probably wondering if she’s having an aneurysm as she watches.
“Vinyl? Are you okay?”
A group of ponies head down the street, some glaring at Vinyl where she stands in the way. She seizes Cherry Spices bag and guides her to the side where they can talk safely out of the way of ponies.
“You and Octavia broke up.”
Cherry Spices brow furrows. “Yes. She didn’t tell you?”
“No she didn’t tell me!” Vinyl feels dangerously close to hysteria. “When was this?”
“A few weeks ago,” she says, sounding puzzled. “We fought about the billboard that night, and then she came over the next morning and broke it off.”
Vinyl remembers that night, stumbling home and sleeping it off on the couch. Octavia had cut up apples for them both that morning, and maybe that awkward ending to the conversation Vinyl thought she imagined wasn't entirely in her head after all.
“Because of the fight?” Vinyl asks.
Cherry Spices shakes her head, looking intently up into Vinyl's eyes. “She really hasn’t told you any of this?”
“No,” Vinyl says, more forcefully than she’d intended. Why in Celestia is Octavia keeping secrets like this from her? Why didn’t she think it necessary to tell her that she’d broken up with the marefriend she’d been seeing for months? And Vinyl had been hiding and trying to avoid being home alone when she could’ve been spending all that time with Octavia. And that kiss today -
“Cherry Spices,” she says, pleading. “You gotta tell me what’s going on.”
She looks Vinyl right in the eye, wide green eyes sincere, maybe even a little sorry - sorry for her, which is just plain ridiculous because Cherry Spices was the one who got dumped - and says, “Vinyl, she broke up with me because she said she was in love with somepony else. And it’s okay,” she insists with a small smile. “I already knew when she told me; it’s part of why we had argued in the first place. It was the best thing for us, really.”
“Who?” Vinyl asks, her voice cracking on the word, almost scared to hear the answer.
Cherry Spices studies her, her wide green eyes flickering back and forth between both of hers. “I think you already know.”
Vinyl jabs her hoof wordlessly at her own chest, and Cherry Spices smiles softly and nods.
Vinyl’s world comes screeching to a halt around her, her heartbeat pounding raucously in her ears, drowning out everything around her. Octavia loves her. Is in love with her. It’s suddenly very, very hard to breathe, the air around her turned heavy and fluid.
“And you love her too, right?” Cherry Spices asks, her voice just reaching her ears through the noise.
“Yeah,” she replies breathlessly.
“Good,” Cherry Spices says. “You two need each other.” And then Cherry Spices leans forward and pulls Vinyl into a hug.
Vinyl stiffens in surprise, but then relaxes in her embrace, choking out a laugh and wrapping a hoof around Cherry Spices as best she can with their bags in the way. “Celestia, Cherry, you sure deserved better than to get mixed up with the two of us. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too. I probably could have loved her.” She draws back and smiles sadly at Vinyl. “But it never would have worked. Now are you going to stay here talking to me all day or are you going to go talk to her?”
Vinyl laughs a little wetly. “Yeah, okay,” she says. Impulsively, she leans in and presses a kiss to Cherry Spices cheek. “Thanks, Cherry Spices,” she whispers, then turns to make her way back home, her stomach twisted up in knots and her heart thudding frantically against her rib cage as she heads back home to Octavia.
Vinyl bursts through the door of her and Octavia’s house and hurriedly goes to the kitchen to set the cider from her bag onto the counter. Cherry Spices’ words are still running through her like an electric shock, adrenaline and excitement and nervousness pulsing through her and making her jittery with energy, with the need to do something.
Everything makes sense now: Octavia’s failure to mention Cherry Spices for the past several weeks, the kiss at the station today. Although, really, all of this could have been made infinitely easier if Octavia had just talked to her after she broke up with Cherry Spices, but Vinyl has time to give her crap for that later. Right now, she needs to find Octavia and tell her that she knows, and hopefully they can stop dancing around each other like they’re trapped in some ridiculous romcom. She’s never been one for the dramatic irony crap.
A quick glance at the couch tells her that Octavia is no longer in the living room, though the TV is still on and blaring, most of the salt lick on the table beside the couch. The downstairs bathroom is unoccupied, so Vinyl hurries through to the kitchen, only to find it empty as well.
She sets most of the cider into the fridge, keeping one bottle out and hurriedly unscrewing the cap off it because she could really use some liquid courage right about now. She turns to lean against the counter, jumping when she sees Octavia standing silently in the kitchen doorway, watching her with narrowed eyes, a book clutched against her chest.
“Buck Octavia, make a noise,” Vinyl snaps automatically without thinking. But then she remembers and she tenses up, her whole body shuddering to a halt - all except her frantic heart, slamming up against her rib cage. All the words die on her tongue as she stares at her friend, swallowing hard.
Octavia’s eyes flicker to the bottle in her hoof. “Are you all right?” she asks suspiciously, her eyes narrowing impossibly further as she studies Vinyl’s tense posture.
“Yeah, fine,” Vinyl replies gruffly, gesturing with the bottle. “Uh, I got some more cider if you still want some.”
Octavia’s eyebrows slide up toward her hairline. “I can see that,” she comments mildly, and Vinyl has to suppress the familiar mixture of affection and irritation that only Octavia can incite. Octavia studies her for a moment longer before shrugging slightly and turning to go back to the living room.
“Wait, Octavia!” Vinyl calls after her.
Octavia stops. “I’m just getting my glass, Vinyl,” she says impatiently over her shoulder.
“Hang on a second wouldja, I’m trying to tell you something.” Vinyl sets the bottle back on the counter, taking Octavia’ silence as permission to continue. “I, uh… I ran into Cherry Spices.”
Octavia’s shoulders stiffen where she stands in the doorway, but she doesn’t turn around. “Oh.”
“Yeah, ‘oh’.” Vinyl barks a humorless laugh.
“How is she?” Octavia asks finally, turning around and rubbing at the back of her neck, her eyes darting up to meet Vinyl’s and then away again. She must know the jig is up because she looks sheepish as she gazes across the room at Vinyl.
“She seemed pretty good,” Vinyl replies, trying not to follow the motion of Octavia’s tongue as it flicks out to wet her lips. They stare at each other for a few long seconds, the silence thick and tense between them. “Why didn’t you tell me you broke up with her?” Vinyl blurts finally.
Octavia blinks, surprised. She studies Vinyl’s face, brow furrowing, and Vinyl can almost see the wheels turning. “It didn’t seem relevant at the time,” Octavia says finally.
“Didn’t seem-” Vinyl chokes off, unable to finish the sentence. It didn't seem relevant that Octavia had been single for weeks while Vinyl pined after her like a lost puppy, thinking she had missed her chance? It didn't seem relevant that the reason Octavia had been single was that she, in turn, had been pining after Vinyl this entire time?
“Octavia, you idiot,” Vinyl breathes instead. She runs a hoof roughly over her hair, staring agitatedly at Octavia who is looking more and more confused by the second, her brow furrowing adorably.
Finally, Vinyl does the only thing that makes sense, the only thing her scattered, fevered mind can actually comprehend. She crosses the space between them in three strides, and reaching out to grab a the back of Octavia's neck, tugs her forward to slam their lips together. She’s not gentle like Octavia had been earlier at the station, and Octavia makes a soft sound of surprise at first, her body tensing under the onslaught. But she only takes a second to catch up and then she’s melting into Vinyl’s lips and responding with equal ferocity.
Octavia pushes back on Vinyl’s chest and Vinyl groans in complaint but pulls back, forcing herself to stop. She studies Octavia’s eyes which are wide and confused under the haze of lust.
“Explain,” Octavia demands finally and it’s so very Octavia that Vinyl has to bite back an affectionate laugh. She feels her face flush warm and her eyes dart away from Octavia’s to study the aged refrigerator behind her. She really, really doesn’t want to have this conversation, especially not now, but her conscience that suspiciously sounds like Neon Lights is saying that they really need to set all the cards out on the table before they do anything else, because wasn’t it miscommunication that got them into this mess in the first place?
Vinyl really needs to remember to hit her best friend for sticking rational thoughts in her head at inconvenient times like these.
Staring determinedly over Octavia’s shoulder, she takes a deep breath and says; “So I’m… in love with you, I guess,” she mumbles, finally. She risks a glance at Octavia’s face and is met with a too-wide, purple gaze.
“You guess?” Octavia asks, her voice carefully neutral.
Vinyl rolls her eyes. “I know,” she says gruffly. “I’ve known for a while, okay? And Cherry Spices said-” she cuts herself off, too chicken to continue because what if Cherry Spices was wrong? What if Octavia doesn’t love her after all and she’s just spilled her guts all over the floor and wrecked everything for nothing?
Octavia’s expression doesn’t change as her eyes flicker back and forth between Vinyl’s, studying her carefully. Just as Vinyl’s about to force out what will probably be the fakest laugh ever and insist that it was all a big joke, Octavia nods succinctly. “Okay,” she says and steps out of Vinyl’s grasp, snagging one of Vinyl’s hooves and tugging Vinyl along after her as she moves out of the kitchen.
What in Celestia just happened? Vinyl’s eyes feel like they must be bugging out of her head as she lets herself be towed along after Octavia. “‘Okay’? That’s it? I tell you I’m in love with you - probably have been for years, by the way - and you say ‘okay’?” She feels bare, exposed, laid open for Octavia’ gaze, and she wants to hear Octavia say it back, wants her to confirm what Cherry Spices had told her that had given her hope for the first time in who knows how long that she and Octavia could have something more. “Aren’t we going to talk about this?”
They stop, sit on the couch, and look at each other for a while. “So,” Octavia says finally. “You’re in love with me.”
“Uh huh,” Vinyl says, nodding.
Octavia is silent and staring, purple eyes unblinking as she searches Vinyl’s face. “I love you too,” she says finally, in the same casual tone one uses to comment on the weather.
Octavia takes a deep breathe, and continues. "I think I've been in love with you for years, to be honest, but I didn't quite realize until that game of Truth or Dare came along, and it brought up all the memories of that night that I'd been pushing down. But I didn't think you'd ever feel the same, so I did my best to ignore it."
Vinyl grins Octavia's calm tone throughout the explanation and wraps her forearms around Octavia. “That’s good, because I think our friendship is pretty well screwed.” She chuckles.
Octavia rolls her eyes at Vinyl which only makes Vinyl laugh harder, so she leans in to capture Octavia’s lips in a kiss. “Let’s go to bed,” she says. They get up and head to Vinyl’s bedroom, lying down on the bed. They settle in under the covers and end up cuddling and talking the night away, until both of them drift off to sleep with a smile on their faces.
A couple hours later Vinyl wakes up to her stomach protesting emptily, a faceful of Octavia’s hair and all four of Octavia’s limbs wound around her like an octopus. Vinyl flips through an impressive gamut of emotions that she doesn’t really want to look too hard at because it’s venturing into way sappy territory, but if she burrows down into Octavia’s hair and strokes her hoof over Octavia’s head- well, there’s no one there to see her do it.
And when Octavia finally stirs sleepily under her touch, Vinyl disentangles herself from the clingy creature that is her best friend slash co-host slash housemate (slash marefriend?) and slides down out of bed to wake Octavia up with apple slices just because he can.
The horror that is Truth or Dare Tuesday shows up week after week like a bad penny. And every week Vinyl puts up her usual protest, rolling her eyes at Octavia behind Derpy’s back as their boss lopes out of the studio like an overgrown stork, and Octavia determinedly avoids her eyes, her lips pressed together in a firm line to fend off her laughter.
It’s possible that Vinyl owes this whole new relationship with Octavia to Derpy and her dumb ideas but Vinyl would eat her own leg before she’d ever admit it. They haven’t even broken the news to anypony yet. It’s not because they’re ashamed of it, although Vinyl really isn’t looking forward to the “I told you so” she’s going to get from her best friend and she can only imagine the billboard that Derpy and the PR team will come up with next, once the news breaks. It’ll come out sooner or later… they just haven’t exactly gotten around to it yet.
It’s been a few weeks since they finally fell into bed together and laid all their feelings out on the table and – unlike the last time they slept together – things between them remain comfortably the same. Octavia still nags her to pick up after herself and looks at her like she can’t believe half the things that come out of her mouth, and Vinyl still loses it when Octavia forgets to buy juice or gets the crappy cider. Except now, Vinyl’s allowed to stare when Octavia stretches or when she eats apple slices. She’s allowed to lean up against Octavia on purpose when they watch TV together on the couch and mess up her hair just ‘cause Octavia has great hair and because it makes her scowl in that adorable way of her.
And now, when Vinyl’s having obnoxiously loud, enthusiastic sex, somehow, Octavia doesn’t seem to mind.
This week on Truth or Dare Tuesday, the usual assortment of terrible dares and awkward questions ensues. Vinyl can’t help but marvel at the creativity of their listeners and how they still manage to come up with things to ask them and do to them that can only fall under the category of cruel and unusual punishment. She does begrudgingly admit that some of them are fun occasionally.
Vinyl flicks on her mic as the last commercial winds up. “We’re back folks, and it’s-“ she grimaces comically at Octavia, who laughs – “Truth or Dare Tuesday! Octavia, you got somepony on the line?”
Octavia nods at her and hits a button to pick up the call. “Hello, The Pon3 Mix?”
“Hey sugar,” a sultry female voice says through the speaker.
“Hello, who am I speaking to?” Octavia asks, taking a sip of her coffee.
“My name’s Fleur,” the mare replies.
“Hey Fleur,” Vinyl says in between bites of her donut. “What’s the word?”
“Well, I got a question for you both.”
Vinyl leans back in her chair, crossing her forearms together behind her head. “Do your worst,” she challenges with a wink at Octavia who huffs a laugh and knocks her hoof against Vinyl’s side affectionately.
“You might want to be careful throwing that challenge around, Vinyl,” Octavia warns her, grinning. “Remember last time?”
“Oh, you mean the time that mare dared me to kiss you and I tried to do the good thing and you ambushed me? That time?”
Octavia grins widely. “Yes, that time.”
A low chuckle filters through the speakers. “Now now,” the caller chides them teasingly, “you gonna flirt all day or do you wanna play Truth or Dare?”
“All right, Fleur,” Vinyl says, laughing. “What’s it gonna be?”
“Truth,” Fleur says immediately. “When was the last time you got laid?”
Vinyl barks a laugh. “Forward; I like it. But too bad for you, sweetheart, I never kiss and tell.” She leers in Octavia’s direction.
“Spoilsport,” Fleur replies good-naturedly. “How about you, Octavia? You wanna admit the last time you had sex?”
Octavia shoots Vinyl a familiar sidelong glance, considering. Vinyl has just enough time to think that she really should have seen this one coming before Octavia leans into the microphone and answers without even batting an eyelash: “This morning before Vinyl and I got up for work.”
Vinyl’s mouth drops open automatically on a protest, a disturbingly high-pitched squawk forcing its way out of her chest. Fleur’s husky laugh rings out over the line and she says “Congratulations,” and she doesn’t sound the least bit surprised.
Octavia gets the next song in the rotation playing, ignoring Colgate who is screaming at them both through the glass from outside the studio. Derpy’s out there too, standing behind Colgate and beaming like a kid at Hearth's Warming Eve. Vinyl’s phone is already lighting up like a strobe light and vibrating so steadily she has to snag it off the desk before it falls right off the edge. She sees Neon Lights’ name flash on the screen.
“Seriously, Octavia?” Vinyl finally manages to choke out, but her mouth curls into a crooked smile, a laugh bursting out of her without her say-so.
And Octavia smirks, reaching out to seize Vinyl around the neck. “Truth, Vinyl,” Octavia says with a wink, and drags her forward for a kiss.
Derpy's standing behind the glass, watching and listening to everything that's happening with a large grin on her lips. Finally. Thank Celestia her plan worked, those two idiots would have never managed without her.
Author's Note
That's the end folks! Thanks for sticking with me. I'll admit that I trimmed a few thousand words off this story, it was starting to get out of hand and I wanted a finished product but overall I'm quite happy with it
