Room For Rent

—Followed me?!”

Lucky jerked upwards from a mid-morning nap, blinking rapidly as he heard Spitfire’s rather irate voice from downstairs.

It was still the day after, and he hadn’t expected Spitfire to be in the room.

“Of course I followed you!” a male voice responded, irate and defensive. “What else would I do?!”

Lucky rolled out of bed, carefully stepping down onto the floor and then creeping to the door, quietly opening it and heading downstairs. He paused outside the door to Spitfire’s room, resting his ear against the wood.

“You had no right!” Spitfire growled, and Lucky heard her stamp her hoof, causing something porcelain on her bookshelves to rattle.

“I had to make sure you were fine! You sort of just… flew off. You know, after…” the male trailed off, awkward.

“After you drugged me!” Spitfire hissed.

“There weren’t no roofies in it!” the male protested weakly. “Was just some spirits to make you loosen up a little bit.”

“What is my policy on alcohol in my flight school, rookie?!” Spitfire almost screeched.

There was a long pause. “U-uh… uh… n-no alcohol, Miss Spitfire.”

“That’s right!” Spitfire growled, a note of malice in her tone. “And despite the fact that my views on alcohol are well documented, you still slipped me some!”

There was something mumbled that Lucky couldn’t hear.

“No, Soarin! If you ever do anything like this again, you’re fired! Now get out of my room! THROUGH THE DOOR LIKE A PONY, ROOKIE!”

Lucky barely had time to leap out of the way of the doorway as the male pegasus came barrelling through it, pushing the door open and then bolting down the stairs towards the front door. Lucky cringed, head turned to the side, a hoof lifted, halting the door before it shoved into his face. It bounced off his hoof, barely missing hitting his nose.

Spitfire stood in the doorway, chest heaving with her heavy breathing, glowering down the steps after him.

Lucky peeked around the doorway, eyebrows raising. “I should check to see if Spitfire died this morning in a freak training accident or something.”

Spitfire glanced at him, processed what he said, and then gave a bewildered stare at him. “What?”

“Because you are channelling her spirit,” Lucky said with a wry grin. “You’ve gone and made it really awkward for the real Spitfire when Soarin catches up with her, C.J.”

Spitfire just stared at him for several long, long moments.

“Your flight suit is downstairs,” Lucky said, motioning down the stairs. “It’s mostly clean, I think.”

Spitfire blinked once, and then nodded jerkily. “I’m… uh… sorry you had to hear that.”

“Gotta keep up appearances,” Lucky said, shrugging his shoulders and wings in a carefree way. “Nobody will believe you’re the real Spitfire if you don’t go dressing down her co-captain. How does that work, anyway?”

“We’re co-captains, but as the face of the Wonderbolts, I can fire and hire who I wish. And if he does anything that stupid again, he’s fired,” Spitfire growled darkly.

“You’re cute when you’re mad,” Lucky said, giving her a small smile.

Spitfire’s ears reddened slightly.

“Don’t you have a show to get to?” Lucky asked, motioning towards the clock on the wall.

“Yes… yes I do,” Spitfire glowered. “And I have to fly next to that abysmal excuse for a co-captain.”

“Well, it won’t do to turn up late, y’know. How does it work over there anyway. Do you just… sleep at the headquarters?” Lucky asked blankly.

“Sometimes,” Spitfire conceded, nodding.

“Well that… kinda sucks. You know that renting the room comes with amenities, too, right? Got a shower, a lovely cloud patio, a kitchen… you have your own bed in here, of course…” Lucky trailed off suggestively.

“Why, are you suggesting I move in?” Spitfire asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Woo, this conversation is pretty damn redundant,” Lucky said, scratching his head with a hoof. “I’m just saying. Y’know. Things. I don’t mind having you around. You’re cute. Sexy. Well, smoking hot, really,” he said with an earnest nod. “And when you’re in that flight suit… oh my…”

Spitfire flushed a little bit further at that.

“And with that cosplay fetish you have, I could totally be the young rookie and you could strip me down for not flying right, and make me… I don’t know. Clean you up after a hard day’s flying…” he trailed off, holding her gaze with a slow, mischievous grin. “...With my tongue.”

A visible shiver passed over Spitfire’s form, and her blush became noticeable.

“You are so very adorable when you’re flustered,” Lucky said with a sly smile, holding her stare.

Spitfire shivered again, before shaking her head and shuddering faintly. “I have to go. But I find your confidence just… so fucking sexy,” she growled, leaning forwards and kissing him forcefully, before pulling back and darting away. She took a running leap through the windows, wings folded tight to her body, before she took off flying with strong sweeps of her powerful wings.

Lucky watched her go, smiling faintly, licking his lips nervously and then closing her door for her.

Lucky stretched slowly, ears splaying back, wings flexing and arching, tongue curling out as he gave a mighty yawn.

A hoof prodded him in the side, and he yelped, flailing and falling bodily off the bed.

Spitfire tilted her head at him slowly, an ear perking upwards slowly. “You’re a very heavy sleeper.”

“I tend not to have ponies sneaking up on me,” Lucky said, peeking up at her with one eye.

“Well, we have a lunch date… Rookie,” Spitfire stated, staring down at him.

Lucky rolled over onto his back to peer up at her with both eyes, wings giving a slow, lazy flex as he stretched again. “That isn’t for hours. It’s still morning!”

“You really are lazy,” Spitfire said, shaking her head down at him. “Ten minutes, rookie. Be there, or I’m coming back with a leash and collar and I will set the pace.”

“You keep promising that, but you never bring it,” Lucky said with a pout.

Spitfire rolled her eyes, nudging him with a hoof. “Be careful what you wish for.” she said ominously, turning and heading down the stairs.

Lucky groaned faintly, throwing a hoof over his face and dozing off again.

Lucky reawoke to the sound of something jangling above him, and the sensation of something closing around his throat.

Immediately, the stallion jerked awake, flailing hooves and scrabbling away, rolling away and moving hooves up to his throat to try and get whatever was choking him away from him.

A sharp jerk in the leash brought him up short, and he gave a wheezed gasp of surprise. A thick collar emblazoned with the Wonderbolt logo was wrapped around his throat, with a black leash leading up to...

Spitfire stood in his room, dressed in her entire Wonderbolt outfit, the blue flight suit stretched taut across her toned form, and her goggles sitting on her forehead, just underneath her fiery mane.

“I warned you, rookie,” She said calmly, watching him with narrowed eyes.

Lucky swallowed thickly, tugging at the collar once and then twisting to peer down at the buckle, frowning and slowly arching an eyebrow. “No padlock?”

“Not even you are stupid enough to remove it before I give you permission. Now. Are you going to come willingly, or am I going to be tugging your leash the entire time?” Spitfire asked with a slowly growing wicked smile.

Lucky looked down at the leash, and then back up at her, ears pinning back slightly. “Well… which way would you find most fun?” he asked with a sly smile.

Spitfire looked him up and down carefully. She stepped closer, undoing the clip on the leash, and then slipping the leash into her saddlebag. “I think I’ll let you fly along behind me. But if you lag, I’m going to treat you like the rookie you are and use the leash.”

“Yes ma’am!” Lucky said, straightening up and giving his best Wonderbolt salute.

“Do I need to get the leash, Rookie?!” Spitfire called back over her shoulder, eyes narrowing dangerously at him.

Lucky was lagging behind, chest heaving and wings pumping almost awkwardly as he tried to keep up with the Wonderbolt. She wasn’t even sweating, just coasting along in front of him, but he was having to expend every bit of energy he had to even keep up with her.

Spitfire snorted back at him, shaking her head. “Fucking rookie!” she growled, loud enough for him to hear. She pointed down towards the ground with a hoof. “We’re here!”

Lucky gave a sigh of relief, folding his wings and letting himself drop, not even bothering with the backwinging to a soft landing. He just spread his wings when he got close to the ground, landed on his hindlegs and then tumbled across the soft grass without a care in the world, ending up splayed out flat on his back, wings spread wide, chest heaving as he gave a low groan.

Spitfire was much more graceful, landing neatly and transitioning smoothly to a calm stride towards him. She clicked the leash onto his collar, and then tugged it firmly. “C’mon rookie, or I’m going to drag you there like putting a leash on a cat.”

Lucky gave an incoherent groan.

“C’mon,” Spitfire said, tugging the leash firmly.

A low groan left the stallion, but he staggered to his feet at the insistent pull around his neck, clumsily stepping along behind her.

Spitfire led him through the clearing they had landed at, and then into a stand of trees that grew around a stream. It was a path she had obviously travelled several times before.”

“So… w-why do… why do the wonderbolts have these?” Lucky asked between ragged panting, tugging at the collar with a hoof.

“Training,” Spitfire said bluntly, tugging the leash a little more firmly. “Mainly for high-speed manouvres. The leash and collar is held by the leader for tandem flights, so that it’s not possible for the follower to end up lagging behind. It’s part of how we keep so close to each other during our flights. Training with these,” she pointed out, tugging again.

“Clever,” Lucky panted, hanging his head slightly, allowing himself to be lead. “And kinda demeaning.”

“That’s all part of the training, rookie,” Spitfire said with a sly grin, tugging him right over to a small drop in the land. The stream wandered over an eroded cliff, creating a kind of short waterfall.

Trees crowded close on eight side of the water, giving a kind of privacy screen, while at the base of the miniature waterfall, the water had cleared away the soil to reveal smooth rocks underneath. The water pooled and swirled around the rocks, leaving alternate areas covered and uncovered.

“Nice spot,” Lucky noted, “Is this where we’re having lunch?”

“It’s my favorite spot in the whole world,” Spitfire said, stretching out happily and unclipping the leash, slipping it back into her saddlebag, before placing the saddlebags on the ground.

Lucky gave a long sigh, stepping down into one of the shallow rockpools and then splaying out, only his nose and face resting out of the water, chin on a rock.

“Are you really that tired from the flight?” Spitfire asked bluntly.

Lucky nodding, saying something muffled and incoherent.

Spitfire shook her head slowly. “We’re going to need to get you some endurance training,” she stated, picking up her saddlebags in her mouth and leaping nimbly to the rock in front of him, avoiding stepping in the water.

“Don’t wanna get wet?” Lucky asked, peering up at her as she sat down on the smooth rock and then dropped onto her side, pulling the saddlebag toward her.

“Have you seen what these suits do when they’re wet?” Spitfire asked, lifting a hindleg and peering at him. “It’s like wet cotton… just hugs all my curves and is basically see-through.”

Lucky’s eyes widened and he felt his throat go dry at the pose Spitfire had taken. With her hindlegs spread like that he could see, quite clearly, how the taut flight suit hugged each and every curve of her form, especially the way it held tight over the visible mound of pegasus cunny.

Ears reddening, Lucky looked away, clearing his throat nervously.

Spitfire giggled mischievously, laying her hindleg back down and then opening the saddlebag, pulling out a pair of sandwiches.

“Sandwiches?” Lucky asked, ears perking upwards slowly. “We came all this way for sandwiches?”

“Sandwiches and dessert,” Spitfire said with a slow, naughty smile.

“Dessert?” Lucky asked, head tilting to the left curiously.

Spitfire hummed faintly, digging around for a jar filled with some creamy white substance. “Whipped cream! And it might be a little cliché, but I didn’t bring any plates…” she trailed off, giving him a long, smouldering stare.

“So is my good luck going to lead to a plate being washed downstream or your stomach being the perfect surface for eating whipped cream off it?” Lucky mused, smiling up at her innocently.

Spitfire’s eyes narrowed slowly, and she tapped the rock in front of her with a hoof. “Come up here, rookie.”

Lucky gave a low groan, pushing himself to his hooves and wading out of the water, before splaying out on the rock in front of her, carefully on his stomach.

Spitfire raised an eyebrow slowly. “Oh come on, don’t tell me you got so excited from that little tease that you have to lay on your stomach…?”

Lucky’s ears reddened further, and he bit his tongue, looking away.

Spitfire giggled, eyes narrowing at him slowly. “Whatever happened to that sexy, confident stallion that had me shaking and quivering yesterday?”

Ears pinning back, Lucky just stared at her for a long moment. “You put a collar on him and broke his spirit.”

“Ahh,” Spitfire said, stretching out lazily, picking up her sandwich to take a bite out of it, pausing. “A shame. That stallion was hot.”

Spitfire went to take a bite of her sandwich, but Lucky stopped her with a gentle hoof on her own. He led her hoof back down to the bag the sandwich had came in, forcing her to drop it.

“What’s the meaning of this, rookie?” Spitfire asked imperiously, eyebrows raising, eyes narrowing.

“Shut up, C.J.,” Lucky said with a slight smile, pushing her back slightly and stepping over her, leaning down to kiss her intently.

Spitfire fought back for a moment, giving a slight annoyed hum, pushing at his chest lightly with a hoof, wings spreading slightly against the rock underneath her. Her low hum became one of delight as Lucky pressed himself over her, kissing her intently, their tongues meshing together in a heated embrace.

Lucky gave an eager growl, tilting his head to the side slightly to deepen the kiss, one of his hooves sliding down her form and finding her haunch, resting over her cutie mark, squeezing her through the flight suit.

“You are so bloody sexy,” Lucky panted as he pulled back to take a breath, peering down at her, smiling.

“And you’re somehow handsome while still being green,” Spitfire said in wonderment.

“Don’t insult my colour scheme,” Lucky growled, kissing her again. His hips pushing in against her own, spreading her hindlegs with the pressure of his motion.

Spitfire gasped into the kiss, but didn’t struggle, allowing her hindlegs to be spread, wrapping them around his hips as she kissed him eagerly in response.

With a firm grind and arch of his hips, Lucky rubbed himself right up between her thighs, his wings stiffening and quivering above them both as he felt the growing length of his arousal grind right against soft, cloth-covered pegasi pussy right through her flight suit.

A low shudder passed over Spitfire’s form, and her ears reddened as he ground himself against her all the more intently, her hindlegs quivering weakly around his hips. “Mnnf… y-yes…” she whimpered breathlessly, pushing herself up against him firmly.

Lucky panted heavily into the kiss, a hoof pushing between their forms, finding the zipper at her throat and tugging it down eagerly. He dragged it down the length of her stomach, right to the end, which was just above the enticing mound of that warming cunt.

With a lustful growl against her lips, Lucky pushed his hoof right down into her suit, and began to rub intently between her thighs, grinding back and forth slowly, rubbing right in against the moistening, incredibly soft outer lips of her pussy.

Spitfire shuddered, quivering underneath his attentions, twisting this way and that and quickly wriggling out of the top half of her flight suit. She wrapped her bare hooves around his upper body, grinding towards his attention eagerly.

Lucky growled heatedly, grinding his hoof all the more forcefully against Spitfire’s heated, drooling cunny, seemingly trying to suckle on her tongue as he kissed her intently. He stared down at her for several long moments, grinning, watching her expression as she shuddered and writhed under his touch. Her eyes opened, and she stared up at him, smiling in response. “Mnnh… You’re going to get lucky today, Lucky,” she crooned.

Lucky stared down at her, his ears splaying back, his hoof stilling between her thighs. He slowly drew back, his hoof glistening with her moisture, his wings giving an anxious flutter.

“D-did I say something wrong?” Spitfire asked, sensing a shift in his emotions. “What did I say?”

“Oh… you didn’t say anything,” Lucky assured, taking a step backwards, dipping his hoof into the water to clean it off, biting his bottom lip and looking away. “I just… uh… I think we’re taking this a little bit too fast.”

“We’re taking this too slow,” Spitfire responded immediately. “Way, way too slow! We’ve stopped. You stopped!”

“I know I did…” Lucky said, giving a pained grimace. “I’m just uh… I’m not in the mood.”

“There are at least ten inches of evidence to the contrary,” Spitfire pointed out, her eyes lowering slightly to between his thighs.

Lucky winced, crossing his forehooves and laying on his stomach to hide it. “I’m just… I’m not in the mood any more, okay?”

“What did I do wrong?” Spitfire asked plaintively.

“Nothing. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Lucky reassured, sighing and rubbing a hoof through his mane.

Spitfire’s eyes lowered, and she self-consciously started to pull her flight suit up, sliding her hooves back into the sleeves. “Do you want to… leave?”

Lucky shook his head firmly. “No. No. I want to stay here with you. But can we just… have lunch? Like normal ponies?”

“Normal ponies?” Spitfire asked with a hollow laugh. “I am anything but normal.”

“You’re normal to me, C.J.,” Lucky said earnestly, giving her a long stare. “Can’t we just eat?”

Spitfire pursed her lips, giving an annoyed snort. “Fine, fine. Whatever.”

Lucky smiled faintly, crawling back up the rock towards her, taking the other sandwich from inside the saddlebag. He unwrapped it, taking a bite out of it, gazing at Spitfire for a long moment.

“So are you going to tell me why you just went cold-fish on me?” Spitfire asked plaintively.

Lucky’s ears pinned back, and he gave a helpless shrug of his shoulders. “For… you know… effeminate reasons. They’re personal.”

“Are you too much of a rookie to own up to your emotions?” Spitfire asked bluntly.

Lucky nodded silently.

Spitfire rolled her eyes, giving a long, frustrated sigh. “Look. Okay. I’ll give you this once. I did kind of… jump you.”

“Kind of,” Lucky said with a wry grin.

“But I swear to Celestia, if you turn me down again, then… well, you’ll never hear from me again, understood?” Spitfire stated, glowering at him.

“I understand,” Lucky said, hanging his head a little. “Do you want to… take off your suit? So we can get under the waterfall?”

Spitfire glared at him for a moment, before shrugging out of her flight suit, tossing it atop her saddlebag. She stretched, kicking her hindlegs a moment, giving Lucky an unimpeded view of her glistening cunny, unintentionally.

Lucky stared for a moment, swallowing thickly, and then looking away.

“Well c’mon then, rookie,” Spitfire said shortly, stepping over towards the waterfall, letting the water wash down over her fiery mane.

Lucky rose, biting through the last of his sandwich and swallowing it down before joining her, carefully stepping in underneath the waterfall. The rocks here were more slippery, slimy with moss and lichen. With a little bit of effort, he managed to seat himself down in the crook of a pair of rocks, motioning for Spitfire to join him.

With some hesitation, the mare stepped closer to him, raising an eyebrow at his rather prominent arousal. “It’s taking all your self-control not to just hold me down and ravage me, huh?” she asked bluntly.

Lucky bit his tongue, nodding slowly, wings giving an anxious flex. “You have no idea.”

“You must have a pretty good reason then,” Spitfire reasoned, even as Lucky grasped her and tugged her into his lap, so that her back was against his chest.

Lucky rested his chin on her shoulder, wrapping hooves around her midsection, trying to squirm into a more comfortable position, even though Spitfire had to contend for space with with an almost urgently throbbing stallion cock.

With a naughty little grin, Spitfire slowly ground herself back against him, wiggling her hips slightly. With the length of cock against her rump and back, she was grinding herself almost teasingly against the base, while the feathers of her wings tickled near the tip.

“S-stop that…” Lucky whimpered, ears splaying back slowly. “Y-you tease.”

“Why do you want me to stop, Lucky?” Spitfire asked simply. She leaned forwards, dropping down onto her hooves, and then turning around, pushing a hoof rather forcefully against his chest, holding him down. The other hoof began to stroke languidly along the underside of the stiffened stallionhood.

The heavenly vision of a soaking wet Spitfire took up all of Lucky’s vision, even as she continued to idly stroke up and down him with a teasing motion that would never, ever get him off. “Tell me why and I’ll stop.”

“But y-you’ll…” Lucky whimpered, biting his bottom lip. “I-I was going to l-lay here with you and kiss you s-sweetly and j-just enjoy nature with you…”

Spitfire arched an eyebrow at him, continuing to stroke languidly up and down him with her hoof, watching him intently. “The sooner you tell me why, the sooner I stop. And if it’s a really, really good reason, I might even get you off, rookie.”

Lucky whined faintly in the back of his throat, his wings flexing ineffectually against the rocks behind him. “B-but…”

Spitfire hummed innocently, leaning forwards and opening her mouth, extending her tongue. She came within mere millimetres of touching him, her hot exhalations washing over the stiff length of his cock, making it throb even more intently. She stared up at him expectantly.

“O-oh f-fuck…” Lucky whimpered, quivering under her teasing. “F-fine… I-I just… You said it yourself. I was getting l-lucky.”

“Lucky?” Spitfire asked, drawing away and idly stroking up and down him again with her hoof. “As in…?” While she waited for a response, her hoof slid down to the base of the stiff stallionhood, and she squeezed lightly, even as she began to slowly wash the tip of the aching cock with firm, teasing swipes of her heavenly tongue.

Lucky whimpered, his eyes clenching closed and back arching on reflex, his hooves grasping at the base of his own wings, almost tearing out feathers. “L-lucky… Y-you’re only doing this because of l-luck…”

Spitfire stared at him, pausing with her tongue on his tip. She blinked once, before her eyes narrowed, her expression turning dark. With a low, angry growl, she parted her lips, sinking down over his cock, tongue feathering at the tip of it firmly.

Lucky tensed up underneath her, shuddering and quivering, his hindlegs spreading and closing alternatively as he resisted the urge to hump up into the amazing muzzle that was now bobbing aggressively on his stiff, throbbing cock.

Growling intently, Spitfire gave a few more rapid bobs, suckling at him hard and fast, bobbing rapidly, before tugging off of him with an audible pop! of suction, glowering at him. “You think this is luck?” she growled, offended. “You think that I’m doing this just because of your luck?”

Another low growl left the mare, and she dove back over him, head working up and down fervently, her hooves squeezing around his base. After a series of mind-numbing bobs, she drew back, staring at him with narrowed eyes, tongue feathering over his tip as her hooves worked him off powerfully. “You think this is luck, rookie?!” she hissed. “Do I strike you as somepony that would let the powers of ‘luck’ control me?” she asked, staring at him intently. “Do I?!”

“N-no ma’am,” Lucky whimpered, arching and writhing underneath her, not entirely sure if he wanted her to stop any more.

“I am my own pony, rookie! I do what. I. Want. Nothing controls me, nothing nudges me!” Spitfire growled, giving him a rapid series of firm licks and then suckling almost angrily at the very tip of his throbbing erection. “I’m not doing this because you’re lucky. I’m doing this because you’re different!” she hissed, punctuating each exclamation with a pause and a heavenly, forceful suckle on him each time. “I’m doing this because you’re strange, and wonderful, and different, and because I find you arousing enough to fuck you!”

Each word was followed by a firm swirl of her tongue and a bob of her muzzle this time, her motions aggressive and forceful, like she was arguing with him with the greatest blowjob to ever grace any pony anywhere. Lucky could already feel himself losing control, the already-thick tip of his cock swelling and flaring in warning.

Spitfire barely seemed to notice, just widening her muzzle even further each time she took him into her perfect mouth, growling and suckling at him intently, twisting her muzzle now to increase the tension just begging to burst.

“You are most definitely lucky to have me do this to you,” Spitfire growled, glaring up at him, “But in no way was luck the driving force behind this happening! I choose what happens! You understand, rookie?! Say it!”

Lucky whined softly, having trouble remembering his own name, let alone trying to repeat words. With great difficulty, he stared down at her, looking past the earnestly-throbbing length of his flared stallionhood. “Y-you c-choose w-what hap… hap… happens…” he slurred, nodding earnestly.

“Good!” Spitfire growled, glowering at him. “Now shut up and cum in my fucking mouth!”

Lucky barely had time to register what she said, before she dove back over him, her hooves squeezing around his base intently as she bobbed and jerked him in time. Each time she pushed down over him, her lips pushing past the medial ring, she would tilt her head to the side, and then draw back up, giving him a different sensation each and every time she moved.

Already near his peak, Lucky didn’t stand a chance, his back arching and wings slapping wetly against the rocks as he jerked underneath her, pumping sudden hot bursts of pegasus spunk up into her willing mouth.

Spitfire growled, suckling around him intently, drawing back so just the tip was in her mouth as hot volleys of stallion spunk gushed into her mouth. She swallowed intently around him, suckling and swallowing rapidly with each eager burst of urgent jism pumping into her mouth.

Lucky arched and cried out at the sensations, feeling like fireworks were going off in his skull. He pushed at her head with his hooves, trying to get her off, but just slipping ineffectually with the soaked mane in the way. And still she suckled at him, swallowing and bobbing her muzzle with heated growls, forcing out every last drop of his gooey load for her hungry muzzle.

With a shudder and a whimper, Lucky fell back, gurgling blankly up at the sky as water fell over his face. He didn’t even care.

Spitfire snorted once, swirling her tongue along his underside, suckling as she drew upwards, before panting faintly, staring at him. Her lips and chin were awash with the gooey white of his spunk, being rapidly washed away with the water of the waterfall.

With a low growl, she stepped over him, blocking out the waterfall with her head and mane, resting her nose against his own.

“If you dare suggest that my affections for you are only there because you’re lucky, ever, ever again, I’m going to put the leash on you and drag you through an endurance race by the throat. Am I understood, rookie?!”

“Mnngharghle…” Lucky groaned hazily.

Spitfire snorted derisively, and then grasped his muzzle, kissing him furiously, hugging around his shoulders with her hooves, glowering down at him intently. “Now, thank me.”

“Thank you, Spitfire,” Lucky panted, opening one eye to stare up at her.

Spitfire paused for a moment, her ears pinning back, her demeanor softening. “Call… call me C.J.”

“Thank you, C.J.,” Lucky said with a tired smile, rolling back and forth underneath her in euphoric delight. “I’d offer you some kind of recompense but I can’t feel my legs.”

Spitfire snorted once, kissing his nose firmly. “It’s all the high-flight training. Our entire breathing tract is over trained to take the strain of breathing at higher altitudes.”

“I choose to believe that your special talent just involves—

—You really shouldn’t finish that sentence. I’m much, much faster than you.” Spitfire finished for him.

“Whatever you say, C.J.” Lucky gave a low, content groan, throwing a hoof over the mare and weakly holding her against him. “You promise that you’re just… You know... not because?”

“I will bite you, rookie,” Spitfire growled, kissing him again.