Close The Door Behind You
"How does it taste?"
Spike placed the flute glass back down, shaking his head as he tried to process the champagne. "It's bitter," he replied, frowning. He placed a hand on his throat, wondering at the warming sensation that lingered there. "What is that? It's like my throat is burning, but the drink was cold."
Rainbow Dash grinned, leaning up out of her seat and pushing him roughly on the shoulder. "That's alcohol, champ. Get used to it." She turned to her friends, lifting a glass of sparkling liquid. She smirked. "Listen up, fives. A ten is speaking."
"As of today, at approximately nine in the morning, we have a new adult in our midst. As of tonight, at approximately six in the evening, we officially have a new drinking buddy!"
Pinkie Pie and Applejack whooped and hollered, their faces flushed and warm. Fluttershy smiled softly from the other end of the table, her arms crossed, while Twilight merely rolled her eyes and smirked. The six of them had found a stately but comfortable restaurant to attend for Spike's coming of age party, and he couldn't be gladder of his company. The rounded-out booth was filled with the five of the six women Spike had grown up around.
He tried not to think about what was keeping the last one so long.
"Now," Rainbow Dash said, grinning as she took a quick sip of the champagne, "now that you are of legal age," eyes a-waggle, "do you solemnly swear to get wasted when your friends are in need of a drinking buddy?"
Spike laughed nervously, thumbing at his chin for a scratch that wasn't there. "I do."
"Do you, Spike, promise to remain the designated driver when appointed as such, regardless of how smashed your friends may get?"
"I do?" he said, shrugging.
"Do you promise to learn the ways of curing hangovers, for the many nights you'll get plastered?!" she roared, beaming with fervor as her friends cheered on her impromptu initiation.
"I guess," Spike said, rubbing the back of his head.
Rainbow Dash, clad in her sky blue wind breaker and capris, stood on the cushions, one leg posed heroically on the tabletop as a majestic wind seemed to send her hair flowing in a show of drunken patriotism.
"Do you promise," she said, holding her glass to the ceiling, "to make a disappointment of yourself?"
Spike glanced at Twilight, who was holding a hand to her mouth in a show of restrained laughter. As if granting him permission, the young Princess nodded.
The newly christened adult nodded. "I do."
Rainbow Dash grinned, tilting her head back as she downed the rest of her champagne. She tossed the empty bottle at Fluttershy, who caught it with practiced ease. She reached down, grabbed Spike by the scruff of the neck, and hoisted him up above the table with her. She grabbed him about the waist, dipping him for all to see, and planted a deep kiss on his mouth, to the raucous laughter of the rest of the group and passersby. Applejack chuckled, shaking her head and clapping her hands.
Breaking the kiss, Rainbow Dash held the young man as if holding a flustered bride. She lifted her head, leering at the faces looking up at her.
"TONIGHT!" she bellowed for all the restaurant to hear, "we're getting FUCKED UP!"
As the night wore on, and Spike inhaled shot after shot of champagne, his inhibitions began to lower. He laughed at things he normally wouldn't find funny, and leaned on his friends more than he usually would allow himself to.
Now I know why they call it a buzz, he thought to himself, laughing. He moved closer to the table, conscious of a hand on his thigh. He reached his hand towards a bowl of pretzels to stave off his imminent inebriation.
"Geez," he heard Applejack mutter, "what's taking her so long?"
"No idea," Twilight replied under her breath. "You'd think she would've been the first person to show up." She fingered her royal torc, modeled after Celestia's, in a show of agitation.
"Maybe she had trouble with her makeup?" Fluttershy suggested, though the doubt in her voice was obvious.
The table quieted down, and even Dash looked wistful.
Pinkie Pie looked left and right, frowning at her sullen friends. "Hey! I've got an idea!" She leaned over the table, getting everyone's attention. She turned to Spike, grinning wildly. "Let's play Top Five."
The other women around the table 'ahh'ed in recognition of the title, while Spike could only blink in confusion. "What's Top Five?"
Pinkie Pie giggled, halfway across the table as she rested her elbows and cradled her head in her hands. "You write down your top five favorite body parts, and whoever guesses them, wins!" If the redness of her face was any indication, the alcohol was clearly getting to her.
Spike half-smiled, unsure. "Sounds...interesting. Who's playing?"
Pinkie looked confused. "All of us. Why wouldn't we be?"
Twilight cleared her throat. "Actually Pinkie, I think he means who's writing down what."
Pinkie Pie made a silent 'ohh' face, shaking her head. "In that case, it's just you!" She smiled perkily. "Otherwise, we'd be here all night."
"Oh, that's much worse," he muttered, reaching for an unspoiled napkin. "Anyone got a pen?"
"Do you need to ask?" Twilight chuckled, channeling magic to her hand. With a small pop, a thin dark fountain pen appeared. She handed it to her young friend.
"Thanks," he grunted. He placed the back of the pen to his chin, in a pose of concentration. After a manner of silent moments, he took to the paper, jotting down his answers. "There," he said, handing back the pen and flipping the napkin upside down.
"Allllllright," Pinkie said, trilling the word between her tongue and teeth, "who's first?"
"Ooh! OOH!" Rainbow Dash screeched from her seat. "Me!"
"Fluttershy it is, then!" Pinkie said, smiling at her surprised pink-haired friend.
"Oh, come on," Dash grunted, sullen as she sank back into her seat.
"Oh, uh," Fluttershy said, pulling her knees to her chin. She wore an overly long yellow sweater that hung to her calves. "Hair—"
Rainbow Dash groaned.
"Lips, eyes," she continued, before halting. She mimed at the air, red-faced as she tried to find the words. "Ass and titties."
The table blinked at her. At the realization of what she said, Fluttershy clasped her hands around her mouth. "Oh my," she squeaked. She burped, then burrowed her head into the table, mortified. "Oh no."
"Do we have a winner for 'hair, lips, eyes, ass, and titties?" Pinkie Pie cried out, looking at Spike.
The young man blanched, looking at his answer sheet. "Uh, not quite."
Pinkie Pie shrugged. "Oh well! It wouldn't have been fun if the first guess was right anyway." She turned to Twilight. "And, next up, everyone's friendly neighborhood egghead!"
Twilight blinked. "Why me?"
"Because it'll be hilarious and awkward!" Pinkie Pie chirped. "I hope you two enjoy the ride home together!"
The purple-haired woman sighed, placing one hand on her head. "Confound you women. You drive me to drink." She chuckled, taking a sip of champagne. She looked up at her young charge. "So, champ..."
She seemed to scrutinize Spike for a moment, silently drawing up all that she knew of him. Then, she said, "Hair, boobs, legs, butt, and lips."
Spike inhaled, eyes wide. "Close."
Twilight frowned. "Darn. I figured I had the best chance of figuring it out."
The young man smirked playfully. "What makes you think that?"
Twilight drank down the last of her champagne. After swallowing, she added, "You should really think of better passwords for your porn blogs."
Rainbow Dash and Applejack both covered their mouths, high-fiving each other. "Oh, SHIT!"
The Princess of Magic hid a smile behind her hand. "His username is S-loves-R. His password is also S-loves-R."
"There there," Fluttershy murmured, petting a defeated-looking Spike, who was currently in the process of banging his head into the table.
"I do believe I'll have a turn," a familiar voice called out, from across the room.
"Oh no," Spike muttered, leaning even further into the table. She was here.
"Hair, breasts, butt, legs, and lips," the voice called. Without preamble, Rarity stalked up to the table, clad in a black miniskirt, stockings, and a white blazer that concealed a deep purple top. "Apologies for my tardiness, everyone," she said, clearing her throat and batting her eyelashes. Her face was flushed.
Rainbow Dash snorted. "About time, Rares. What took you?"
"Last minute present wrapping, if you would believe it," she said, smirking. She chuckled, as if she had just made a joke.
"Hey," Applejack said, leaning over and smacking Spike on the shoulder, "was she right?"
Still headfirst on the table, the birthday boy yielded his paper. One pink-haired devil snatched it up, holding the napkin to her face.
"Wow," Pinkie Pie said, eyebrows lifting, "she got it all right."
"Go figure," Rarity murmured, smiling with amusement. She placed a glass on table, to the surprise of her friends.
Fluttershy blinked. "What have you been drinking?"
"A dear old friend by the name of Absinthe," she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. A curl of magic adjusted a wrinkle on her dress.
Rainbow Dash gaped, scraping the table with her fingernails. "Absinthe? Are you crazy?!" She unconsciously floated from her seat, drifting as she looked around the restaurant. "Why would they serve Absinthe here?"
Spike blinked. "I must be missing something. What's Absinthe?"
Twilight frowned, looking at her friend in a new light. "It's an extremely alcoholic drink. Forty-five percent alcohol-by-volume, at the least. That's five times stronger than the champagne you've been having." She narrowed her eyes at Rarity. "Why would you drink it by yourself?"
"Oh, honestly, you all are such worrywarts," Rarity scolded. "I am a connoisseur by definition. I can handle my liquid as well as anyone, and I'll thank you to not think me a lightweight." She seemed relieved when her friends lightened up, as evidenced by a short sigh. "As for why, I needed a bit of liquid courage."
Applejack cracked an eyebrow. "Courage for what?"
Ignoring the question, Rarity clasped her purse, and finally turned to face Spike, who was looking at her with more than a little apprehension. She grinned, uncharacteristically nervous. She seemed to ground herself, however, relaxing as she stared at him.
Then, she Stared.
Frozen in place like a deer caught in the headlights, Spike could only return her gaze, bewildered.
Rarity spoke slowly. "When you are ready, come find me in the VIP suite, on the third floor. You will find your present there." She smiled at him, broke eye contact, and nodded to her friends.
Then, she turned on her heels and left, just as she had arrived. The sound of her shoes clacked on the tiled staircases, echoing back to the group.
Pinkie Pie shook her head, confused. "Wait, she rented a suite? Aren't those, like, insanely expensive?"
Twilight cleared her throat. "Only if you rent them out for a party. They're free for paying customers, up to thirty minutes. They usually have them for surprise parties. You have to reserve them ahead of time, though." She turned to Spike, grinning. "She must have a fashion show planned out for you."
The young man exhaled, relieved. "I didn't exactly plan on being a model tonight, but I guess I could use some new clothes."
Applejack snickered. "She said the fashion show was for you, sugarcube. Iffin' Twi's right, you ain't gonna be the one struttin' your stuff."
Spike's head reeled as he considered the possibilities, and it felt as if steam was rushing to escape from his head. "Oh God," he said, shaking his hands and panicking. "Oh God, I'm not ready!"
Rainbow Dash laughed, clapping her friend on the shoulder. "Chill out, man! Even if Rarity isn't just bringing you clothes, she wouldn't make you uncomfortable. Probably."
"You'll be alright," Twilight assured him. She smiled, examining the young boy who had just today become a man. "It's just Rarity."
Spike nodded, trying to gather his nerves. "You're right. It's just Rarity. My drinks are just making me antsy." He shook in his seat, suddenly anxious. "Oh God, the ants, they're everywhere—"
"Oh, shut up!" Rainbow Dash growled, punting the boy out of the booth. "You're just buzzed, now get up there!" The young man oofed as he fell on the ground in a drunken heap.
"Fine," Spike grumbled, brushing his clothes off as he got up from the floor. He turned toward the stairs, where Rarity had ascended only a few minutes prior.
He sighed, combing a hand through his hair and steeling his nerves. "Fine."
He had trouble at the velvet rope, by way of the guards, but once he informed the guard of his friend's reservation, he was allowed to pass. Spike turned his head, searching for any sign of Rarity.
He found her drinking out of a flute glass, an open bottle half empty on a nearby table.
"Excuse me," she said, frowning. She licked her lips before wiping them. "This is your first night out with the six of us, and I seem to be doing a wonderful job of convincing you I am an alcoholic."
"Not really," Spike tried, also frowning. "You seem to be holding it together pretty well, considering the others."
She grimaced. "I lied."
Spike blinked. "How so?"
Rarity sighed, lifting a leg to unhook her heel and remove it. "I'm completely wasted right now. I just have practice faking sobriety."
The young man reeled back from her. "Really? Do you need water? Do you want to sit down?"
The dressmaker laughed, pleased at her friend's gentleness even when inebriated. "All in due time, Spike." She pointed to the suite door. "There was a reason I called it liquid courage. Be a dear and go inside. You should see your present there."
He raised an eyebrow, but if he had any suspicions, he didn't voice them. "Sure thing." He jiggled the doorknob, which was already unlocked, and entered the room. Flicking the light on, he was surprised to find that it wasn't a business suite, and certainly wasn't suited for modeling of any kind.
It was a bedroom.
His heart raced as he considered the possibilities the night might hold. His teeth chattered, his body became uncomfortably warm and sweaty, and why were his jeans suddenly stiflingly hot?
An unfamiliar popping sound rang out from the hallway, and Rarity let out a noise of frustration. "You would not believe how difficult it is trying to control magic while intoxicated."
When he was slow in responding, Rarity craned her head to the side, glancing at him. "Oh, silly me," she said, smiling and bopping herself on the forehead. "It's underneath the mattress, on the floor. On the near side."
"Oh," Spike sputtered out, trying to catch his breath. His mind felt as if it were on fire, and it were just now being put out. He reached the near side of the bedframe, leaning underneath it to grasp at the present. "For a second there, I thought—" his hands grasped the outside of a small box, "I, uh, I...I thought..."
He was holding a box of latex gloves.
Spike turned to Rarity. "I don't get—"
He froze in place, the words dying in his mouth.
Smirking, Rarity threw her blazer and purple top onto the mattress. "It'll come to you eventually," she said.
She thumbed the box open, conscious of Spike's eyes on her back. She was naked from the waist up, except for an expertly tied ribbon reaching from back to front, locking around her bare breasts. "Close the door behind you," she commanded.
Gulping, Spike did as told, making sure to lock the door. His heart was jackhammering in his chest, to the point where he could hear it audibly. A burning thing like lust scorched his stomach, feeling like it shot fire through his limbs and made his bones ache.
Reaching a hand out, he slowly grasped Rarity by the waist, sighing at her warmth and thumbing the slight indent of her spine. "You might as well get it out of your system," she said, and he could practically hear the grin in her voice.
The love of his life was in front of him, half naked. He was terrified and impossibly aroused, and the only way forward was to keep going.
Shaking, but not so much as before, he murmured, "Do you remember my top five?"
Rarity looked back at him, and sighed. "If you must."
Smiling anxiously, Spike reached forward and lightly grasped her hair, marveling at its texture. "I've wanted to do that for years," he muttered.
Continuing his search, his hands descended to her chest, dancing around her full breasts. The two of them sighed at the contact. Rarity placed her hands on the bed, bracing herself as her partner groped her from behind. He hefted her breasts, weighing each in his hands, giving each an ample squeeze and tweaking her nipples. "I can't believe this is happening," Spike said under his breath, so light that Rarity had to strain to hear him. "This is crazy..."
"I put the 'hot' in 'psychotic'," she agreed, moaning with satisfaction.
"What?"
"What?"
Spike shook his head. Slowly, albeit hesitantly, his hands reached her bottom. Spike bit back a curse, bending to his knees at he stared in wonder at her posterior. His voice low, he asked, "Can I...?"
Rarity nodded her permission. "Go ahead."
With care bordering on reverence, he lifted her miniskirt, gasping when he realized she wasn't wearing underwear. Rarity groaned at his breath on her arousal, shuffling away from his eager mouth. "Next time, darling," she promised.
Spike frowned at her from behind, confused, even as his arms moved to caress her legs. "Next time?"
"Tonight is about you," she answered, shivering. "Though I appreciate your candor."
Satisfied by his tour of her body, Rarity turned around, sitting on the bed. Smiling naughtily, she motioned for him to come forward.
The young man stepped closer to her, within the confines of her legs. "So," he said, rubbing his arm in a sudden bout of shyness, "do we kiss, or something?"
Rarity wrung her hands, nervous and frightfully aroused. "Normally, yes. But our first kiss would do well to be after something romantic."
Spike laughed, jumpy and skittish. He felt as if an army of pin needles were dancing along his skin. "Well, lips were the last thing on the list."
Rarity's eyes became lidded, her face red and warm. "Yes, they were." She bade him lay back on the bed, keeping her eyes locked on his as she worked a glove on. "Remove your pants," she commanded.
Spike's eyes widened. "Are we going to—"
"No," she stopped him, smiling. "But you have to start somewhere."
She caressed his stomach as he did as told. She levitated his jeans and boxers next to her own pile of clothes. "Are you ready for a surprise?" she asked, lazily excited. Her grin was devilish and sexy, framed by her dark purple lipstick. Her eyes, marked by a smattering of eyeshadow, seemed to pierce his mind.
"I guess," Spike said, his chest heaving. He shuddered as he felt the bed shift, feeling Rarity's presence settle over him between his bare thighs. Her smooth legs made contact with his legs, and any limpness left in his manhood vanished, killed by the furious desire that fueled his erection.
With otherworldly patience, he felt the older woman grip him by the base of his cock. "Don't tell anyone," Rarity whispered loudly, "but this is going to be our new secret handshake. It's called the Kronos."
Spike blinked in confusion. "The...guy from the Olympian myth? Why?"
Rarity stared at him attentively. "Because it involves me swallowing your kids for the better part of the next five minutes."
To that, Spike had no response.
Rarity lowered her mouth, allowing her steaming breath to collect around the throbbing member in front of her. She beamed at her partner's groan, flicking her tongue forth and teasing the tip of his cock. The point of her tongue danced around the head, darting about as it rubbed against the underside, moving to tug at the edge.
The dressmaker drew back from her teasing, exhaling quickly and wetting her mouth before moving in for the kill.
Spike jerked as he felt his friend's mouth clamp around his member. Every reverberation of her voice, he felt echoed onto his cock. He shivered in anticipation. It was...different than he was expecting, but not in a bad way. Rarity's mouth wasn't as tight as he had led himself to believe, but the different sensations it provided more than compensated for the excess space. The burning breath on his member, her tongue moving lazily back and forth, drawing him nearer into her. The sight of her darkened lips clamping around the base of his cock. Her eyes, lidded like a self-satisfied kitten as she looked back up at him. He could've sworn that he even heard her purr.
The young man sighed, twitching in place and not knowing what to do with his hands. Hesitantly, so he didn't upset the woman going down on him, he directed his hands downward, until his fingers were tentatively grasping at her hair.
Rarity tightened her grip around his erection to show her appreciation, welcoming the all-too-foreign sense of hands playing with her hair. She bobbed her head back and forth, slowly but with purpose. She needed to work him up to a powerful orgasm, and it was all about pacing. She would edge off when she felt his pulse quicken, or when he would start to jerk involuntarily. As much as she hated to stave off his pleasure, she knew he would thank her later.
With a pop, she dislodged his cock from her mouth. He shivered as the air flowing from the ceiling fan washed over his cock, chilling him. Wiping her mouth, Rarity intensified her gaze, until her captive turned still. "Lift your hips, and don't fight me," she commanded.
A look of confusion was on his face, but Spike obeyed regardless. His uncertainty intensified when Rarity pulled on a latex glove, wiggling it to get her fingers into the sockets. "W-what's going on?" he said, nearly slurring.
"This may feel strange at first," she said, flexing her hand, "but I promise it will make your experience all the better." Pulling his legs apart at the knees, she wet a finger and reached for his upraised hips.
Spike's eyes widened to dinner plates. "Whoa, I am not like that," he protested. He started to shrug her off.
Rarity growled in frustration. "Do not resist, it will only be more painful." She pulled him back. "Relax your hips."
Reluctantly, the young man allowed his friend to grapple him by the waist. As he was told, his relaxed his muscles, resisting the urge to tense when he felt her finger probe him. "It's a good thing I'm open-minded," he commented.
"You and me both," Rarity muttered.
Without hesitation, the dressmaker pushed her finger inside of her young charge. He squirmed at her touch, but did nothing to fight her. Searching for the spot, Rarity was silent, frowning as she failed to garner a reaction.
Finally, Spike gasped, and Rarity smirked, knowing that she had struck gold. She lowered her head once more, taking his cock into her mouth and pumping it while she massaged his prostate.
Spike's hands clenched frantically at her hair now, holding her head in place as he felt the woman over him salivating over his manhood. He arched his hips, twitching at the sensation of her moving digits fingering him. The pressure in her mouth increased, even as the finger prodded at him, teasing his prostate. All too soon, he was reaching his limit.
Rarity could feel the floodgates opening, using her spare hands to tug firmly on his sac. His scorching member throbbed in her throat, and she broke the contact, opening her mouth and allowing him to empty his load into her mouth.
Gasping, Spike wiped the sweat from his brow, wincing as Rarity removed her finger from inside of him. She threw the soiled glove into a nearby trashcan. She wiped her mouth as she swallowed, smirking. "How was it?"
"Oh my God," Spike said, sitting still like a statue on the bed.
"I'll take it," Rarity said, smiling. She reached into the pile of clothes, pulling on the purple shirt that she had thrown aside. For the first time, Spike noticed that there was text written on it.
He squinted. My Other Ride Is A Dick.
At his glance, Rarity grimaced. "My other shirts were in the wash, so I'll thank you not to judge me." She poured herself another drink from the bottle, inhaling the alcohol. She coughed at the burning sensation in her throat. "If you can't handle me at my worst," she coughed again, "then I can't really blame you, because neither can I."
As the two friends made their way back to the table, they coughed, not sure how to act around the other.
Whispering, Spike asked, "Could we do that again sometime?" He rubbed his shoulder, not making eye contact.
Rarity smiled gently, pinching his thigh. "Of course we can." She held his gaze, as she always did. "We'll make a day of it."
Finally, they arrived back at the dinner table. Spike silently regained his seat next to Rainbow Dash, while Rarity sat across from Twilight. "What took you guys so long?" Rainbow Dash slurred, narrowing her eyes at Spike.
The young boy sighed. "Secret handshake."
The athlete blinked, uncomprehending in her drunken state. "Huh?" The rest of the table continued to ply the two newcomers with questions on their absence.
Twilight frowned at Rarity, who was simply grinning. Uncaring of the questions posed to her, the dressmaker merely rested her head in her hand. Raising a dainty hand to her mouth, Rarity yawned, exaggerating her fatigue.
The librarian assumed Rarity was being her usual clandestine self, and shrugged. She froze, then, when the hand that should have been covering her yawn, as it was prone to do, instead made a pumping motion back and forth, in front of Rarity's mouth. The woman made a licking gesture with her tongue, and let Twilight's imagination fill in the rest.
Spike's head rested in his hands on the table. "My butt hurts so much right now, you guys."
The End
