Her car's engine came to a stop, and still Twilight Sparkle's hands were shaking. She gripped the wheel tightly, hoping the fake leather might absorb the trembles. It didn't.

So Twilight tried something Dean Cadance had once taught her. She stretched one hand out and then slowly brought it back to her opposite shoulder. This gesture was repeated in time with deep, heavy breaths. By the tenth cycle, the young woman had calmed herself enough to see straight. Adjusting her glasses, she stole a glance at the world outside her windshield.

A rustic two-story ranch house sat on a square plot of brownish grass, surrounded by the verdant forests of Camp Everfree. The mailbox beside the gravel road leading past the remote residnce was illustrated with the sun-bleached emblem of daisies and pine trees. The front lot had room for two cars, but only an orange pickup truck was parked there when Twilight arrived. The license plate read: "EVR3 4VA".

And just like that, the trembles resurfaced. Twilight Sparkle gripped the wheel again, staring forward—only her eyes were shut. In that gentle darkness, the tender eighteen-year-old recited a dozen bits of dialogue in her head—all of which she had practiced and memorized and practiced over the course of the last few days... weeks... months leading up to this point.

This point.

Twilight's four eyes opened, darting to the dormant gears of her idle dashboard. The letter "R" never before looked so bold.

Fingers tensed and untensed around the steering wheel.

An exhale, and she reached to the passenger's side where her purse lay. Her hand rummaged around, feeling for a specific cluster of things she had brought extra for that occasion: a tiny bottle of clear liquid, a ribbon of tightly-sealed packages... and not one but two cans of mace.

She bit her lip—then hissed at herself for doing so. In a flurry, she gripped the rear-view mirror of the car and tilted it towards her face. She examined her bottom lip, expecting to see tooth-marks marring the pretty pink gloss. Her hand flew back into the purse and didn't return until she had her makeup case. She brought the applicant to her lip... but realized that it didn't need to be touched up after all. So she considered reapplying her eyeliner, but the lashes were just as thick as when she last made them before setting out two hours ago. Twilight examined the subtle-but-sultry shade of purple over her delicate eyelids, but that too was immaculate. Everything was perfect.

She was perfect. Everything was going according to plan. All she had to do now was remove the keys from the ignition...

...and walk from the car to the front door.

Gulping, she threw yet another nervous look across the lawn. The front windows of the house were adorned with brown drapes, and for a brief moment she thought she saw gorgeous green eyes peering out from within. If she waited any longer, no doubt things would only get ten times as awkward.

So, at long last, Twilight opened the door, grabbed her purse, swung her numb legs out, and exited the vehicle.

The shivers redoubled—only for a different reason this time. A brisk autumn wind blew through the dip in the trees, tickling her calves and knees and thighs. More than once, Twilight reached a hand down to hold her skirt in place—which was a few inches shorter than normal. And then she remembered those handsome green eyes that could have been peering out the front windows, and it dawned on her how goofy her walk cycle was. So... she relaxed her hands and strode forward the rest of the breezy way in bold confidence—the wind be damned.

Then, before she knew it, Twilight stood at the front door to the ranch house. It was an entrance she had seen before, but in the glass window of the doorframe she saw a reflection that wasn't quite so familiar. A petite young thing stood pronounced and perky on shiny violet heels. The woman wore a short violet skirt that flounced beneath a floral-printed blouse—with frills and a scarf that playfully hid just how tight the top actually was. On top of all that, Twilight's hair was done up in a high ponytail that swayed and danced with even the smallest of neck-movements.

The woman hovered there, breathless, with her purse dangling beside her like a wanting comma splice to the forthcoming moment.

Then, at last, she rang the doorbell.

The wait that resulted was annoying in length. Twilight pursed her lips together, cocking her limbs for the most photogenic reveal. A reveal that felt like it would never come. For the briefest of moments, she was almost inclined to feel angry.

But then two sets of locks clattered loose, the door opened... and all of her negative emotions evaporated in the wake of his stupid... stupid grin.

"Sorry." Timber Spruce winked. He stood in a plain red t-shirt and lazy cargo shorts. "But it's past thirty minutes. I'm not paying for the pizza." He tapped his masculine chin, squinting. "What was the order again? Brains-filled crust with extra adorkable toppings?"

Any sensible woman would have punched his teeth out then and there. Twilight Sparkle was too busy trying not to spill her melted heart out through her nostrils. She loved every sun-kissed inch of this goofy, goofy man, it made the moment bearable... at least.

"I... uh..." She broke her own sultry veneer to adjust her glasses, a gesture that meant she was in the presence of comforting familiarity. "I took a few side roads this time. I-I guess I should have accounted better for tiem and distance and—"

"Whoah whoah whoah...!" He marched across the threshhold, coming into the sunlight with his broad shoulders and slender physique—a paradoxical combination that made Twilight's knees weak every time. Two strong hands rested like feathers on her shoulders. "I'm only joshin' ya, Twi!" A wink sparkled between them, followed by a friendly smile. "Just glad you didn't get lost. I know it's a pain in the butt having to drive all the way out here."

She gulped. "It was my idea." She gulped again. "And with the new GPS app I coded, h-how could I possibly g-get lost?"

"There's my favorite genius," he said. He smiled. The distance between their faces vanished in a fairy's breath.

Twilight felt her heart skip a beat. She hiked herself up on her heels at the last second—

"Mwah!" Timber Spruce kissed her cheek and squeezed her shoulder. "You look great! Why don't you come on in?" He bounded boyishly into the front room, kiting her with a wave and a grin. "I cooked up some pizza rolls! Hah! See?! It's a running theme!"

"... ... ..." Twilight Sparkle nodded, taking a breath as she followed after him, purse and all. "Yeah. Great." With well-manacured fingers, the young woman shut the front door to the house with a localized thud.

"Nomfff..." Timber Spruce tossed the umpteenth baked bite down his throat, chewing liberally. He stood with his back to a kitchen cabinet, arms folded. "And so... mrmmfff... once Gloriosa comes back from visiting her friend in the city..." He took another bite, smirking and eating at the same time, somehow. "Mrmmmfff... it'll be right at the time that I pack up my things." He swallowed, then pointed nebulously out the window towards the tree line. "Fillydelphia University, here I come!"

"It's the agricultural scholarship, right?" Twilight Sparkle toyed with her first and only pizza roll—half eaten—in the middle of a lonesome paper plate. Her eyes were on Timber's forearms, neck, and the tiniest sliver of tanned skin that showed above his shorts with each lift of his shoulders. She sat on a stool on the other side of kitchen's central counter space, a nimble feat that demanded the full dexterity of her thighs beneath that skirt—which Timber presently could not see through the furnishings of the dimly-lit room. His house smelled of dust and pine scent and she was trying her best not to cough or giggle or both. "I've read your thesis application quite a few times."

"Mrmmmff... really?" He spoke through another pizza role, stifling a burp. "You read that stuff more than once?"

"Of course! I mean... why wouldn't I...?" She turned the partially-consumed roll round-and-round on the plate, watching as tiny tomato streaks formed circularly on the paper. "I find your plans for advanced terrace-based tree farming to be fascinating."

"Yeah, but..." He smirked cynically between them. "Not terribly plausible, huh?"

"I... uh..." Twilight tried not to bite her lip. She avoided his gaze suddenly. "...I think th-there's room for several legitimate pursuits. And obviously the Head of Fillydelphia University Sciences thinks the same! Soooooooo... it's really nice to know they'll have you on board their team soon!"

"Twi, let's face it." He crossed his arms with a hearty sigh, winking. "If it was you and your delicious brain doing the legwork in my stead, we'd solve all of our deforestation problems overnight."

"I-I guess computer sciences will always be passion," Twilight said with a shrug. "Just as ecological issues are yours. And—see?! That's what matters!" She gulped and smiled pleasantly at him. "You're moving with your passion and that's why you're going to make things work!"

"Yeah..." He rubbed the back of his head. Twilight's eyes followed every finger as they traced humble paths through his thick emerald strands. "...I just sorta wish it moved me towards University of Canterlot instead."

She sighed softly. "Timber..." She folded her hands together—until she realized just how bookish it looked, then cocked herself into a far slinkier pose. "...we both know that University of Canterlot doesn't offer the right kind of classes for you."

He gulped. "Yeah, but..." His eyes turned kissably sad as they darted towards her. "That's where you're headed, and—"

"We'll still get to talk and hang out and... and be together!" Twilight's voice lilted pleasantly. She rested a dainty hand to her cheek, her eyes thin and smokey. "I mean... just look at us now, Timber." She rolled her tongue. "Have we ever let long-distance ruin things between you and me before?"

"Yeah..." He softened slightly with a sigh, sticking his hands into the pockets of his shorts as he grinned comfortably at her. "I guess you're right. It's not like this is the end of the world." He swallowed a lump down his throat, kicking at the tile floor of the kitchen. "Still... it's a new beginning."

Twilight blurted: "Are you nervous?"

"Heh... does it show that bad?" He rolled his eyes. "Guess this idiot forgot to wear his Anxiety Camouflage today. Which is fine. Existential Crises aren't in hunting season at the moment."

Twilight laughed... then laughed some more. Her rosy cheeks became rosier as she tip-toed two fingers around her lone pizza roll. "Y'know... this is the last time we'll be hanging out before we head off to our separate colleges."

"Yeah." Timber exhaled. "Talk about special occasions."

"I figured... uhm..." Her hand "squatted" on the half-bitten roll, squeezing it between two knuckles. "...there'd be no harm in... in celebrating—"

"Yeah!" He punched his fist, grinning wide all of a sudden. "And I have just the perfect thing in mind!"

A spurt of tomato sauce squirted out of the tiny roll. Twilight's eyes darted up as her lips pursed. "Uhhhhh..." She sat up straight, prim and perky. "And... j-just what did you have in mind?"

"Witness meeee!!!" the half-naked leprotic war boy shouted in surround sound before leaping with two grenade javelins onto the vehicle in front of him. He and the raiders exploded in glorious 4k resolution apocalyptic flames. Kapowwwwww!

"Listen! Listen!" Timber Spruce pointed across his bedroom at the wide screen television flanked by gaming systems. More explosions rippled across a desert environment as the action chase scene persisted between rusted vehicles. "Slit! The big guy?! According to the closed caption, he shouts 'Mediocre, Morsov!" He slapped his knee and leaned back on the bed, chuckling to the high heavens. "Hahahah! Man! What an asshole!"

"Yes..." Twilight Sparkle sat beside him, her knees propped like a proper lady riding side-saddle so as not to reveal the holiest-of-holies beneath her extra-short skirt... an extra-short skirt that Timber was most definitely not staring at during that particular moment... or the twenty minutes of high-octane high definition blu-ray action-packed goodness preceding. "How very... uhm... disharmonious of him."

"Didn't I tell you this movie's fantastic?"

"Oh. Oh it's definitely... uhm..."

"Gotta cherish it while it lasts." Timber took a moment to peer around his upstairs domain. Warm green eyes reflected vinyl collectibles, indie band posters, and a myriad more bits of adolescent clutter. "For the next four years, I won't have much time for any of this. Seems like an awful waste of space and money, don'tcha think?"

"Well, I don't know." Twilight's fingers kneaded each other. Her eyes fell to the skin of his exposed legs beneath his shorts. Wispy lengths of hair twinkled amidst the sea of tan, looking silky to the touch. She used every ounce of sensation to toe her words along. "...I believe that any little thing speaks of you is worth preserving."

"But that's just the thing! You and I? We're full-fledged adults now!" He leaned lazily against the headboard of his bed, arms crossed. "Time to make new memories! Collect new junk! Heheh... which reminds me." He brief sigh. "I gotta buy a whole crapton of text books. Boy is that gonna suck. Might have to... y'know... pawn in my PS4 and Xbox. Get cheated by one organization just so I can pander to another. Hah! Say..." He smiled at her. "Isn't Sunset pursuing Social Studies? Here's a thesis for her to write a paper on: 'What's a greater bunch of scam artists? The text book industry? Or Gamestop?'"

"I'm afraid that Sunset's the last person you can expect to make a thesis against video game stores," Twilight said. Her eyes wandered up to a wooden shelf resting on the wall above Timber's bed. An enormous prop gun lay on translucent braces. It was an oversized replica of an item from a video game that both Sunset and Timber played: "Call of Destiny" or some such. "She loves those places so much. The girls and I have tried to talk her out of spending so much money there... but I guess some things can't be helped."

"Yeah, well..." Timber shrugged from where he reclined. "You can lead a horse to water—" His pupils shrank, and he waved his hands apologetically. "I-I-I didn't m-mean it that way—"

But Twilight was already giggling... a long and venting laugh that she sorely needed since arriving there. "No no no no it's okaaaaaaay..." She toyed with one of her bangs, drawing it out with several threading motions, an irreversibly girlish gesture. "It was cute." She almost said something else was cute—but then she awoke to the warmth of the moment that permeated her giggles. She silenced herself, turning rigid despite her natural instincts.

Twilight's eyes shot towards the purse lying on the bedside table. She had the wherewithal to bring it upstairs with her... with them. And now they sat on Timber's bed, surrounded by the snapshot detritus of his youth, a thing that would be no more tomorrow. A fragile bubble just waiting to be popped... among other things.

"Timber..." Her fingers kneaded, then unkneaded—before spreading out across the flat fabric of his duvet, slowly swimming the distance between her knees and his. "I..." She shattered the last knot in her throat. "I was wondering if—"

"Ooooh! I love this part!" He leaned up suddenly, causing the bed to creak noisily, jolting her. On the television across from them, a computer generated dust storm was swallowing up the war truck and its ravenous pursuers. "Watch! Watch! The blood bag's about to get his revenge!"

Twilight tried... struggled not to look at Tom Hardy. "I'm watching...!" she lied, and carried the lilt in her voice to another level. "I bet I can think of s-something else that you'll love."

"Yeah?" the boy smiled without looking. "Whattssat?"

She opened her mouth... lingered... and glanced again at her purse. "It's... it's..." Just then, a lightbulb went off in her head, and she chirped: "A music video!"

"Uhhh..." That—at last—snapped his gaze from the cinematic carnage in front of them. "What?"

She held a hand out towards the purse... lingered... remembered that she didn't have her geode on... then awkwardly duck-waddled across the bed until she could reach her phone. "Your television has a Fire Stick attached, right?

"Yeah...?"

She plinked her fingers across a video app, narrowing in on a network name—the only one for miles. "EverRanch20. That's you, right?"

"Yeah... ...?"

"Great!" She smiled up from her phone. "Then I can stream it to your widescreen!"

"Well... sure! But..." Timber blinked sadly at the cars toppling over from the lightning tornado. "...uhhhhhhh—"

"Think of it as Intermission," Twilight suggested, clicking 'Play' on her device.

"Oh! Alrighty..." Timber nodded, but before he could say anything else—

The movie blipped out, and in its place there materialized a buxom woman writhing on stage in glossy white spandex. Flashing lights and brilliant pyrotechnics erupted around her and her half-naked backup dancers. "Razzle dazzle! Glitz and glam!" she sang, striking pose after alluring pose as the camera shot in and out at bust-level. "Turn it all up! It's a spectacle!"

"Oh—h-hey!" Timber Spruce brightened up, though it resembled a cigarette lighter barely sparking. He pointed obligatorily at the figure on the screen. "It's her! It's... uhhh..." He almost bit his tongue. "Coco Lulu..."

"Countess Coloratura."

"Hey." He shrugged, smirking. "I was close."

Twilight fought her everything not to giggle. She kept her voice low, cool, and curling. "Rarity shared her with me. I really like her music! She's bold... she's catchy... and I can't stop playing her stuff in the morning. Also!—she's a childhood friend of Applejack!"

"No kidding?"

"It's true!"

"Heh..." Timber smirked, eyeing the movements on screen. "Small world." His lips shifted into a sly smirk. "Although I doubt AJ uses those hip moves for harvesting apples."

"No. I don't think that would work quite the same."

"Uh huh..." Timber nodded, eyes still locked on the dance. "Yeah, she's... uh... she seems pretty talented."

Twilight nodded. She looked at Coloratura's provocative movements, then looked at Timber's eyes looking at Coloratura's provocative movements. She allowed the moment to carry on, filled with music and more. She steadied her breaths, sensing the heat in the room rising ever so slightly—or perhaps it was her imagination. Either way, she looked at Timber's hands.

They lay calmly-pressed against the bed covers, imprinting with the weight of the eighteen-year-old man.

Twilight swallowed. She allowed her eyes to travel elsewhere, in search of signs. Whether or not she found them, she decided to inch closer anyways. "The Countess... uhm... she has some pretty slick moves, huh?"

"Yeah. Sure." Timber nodded. His voice sounded dry suddenly, resembling the desert that was Twilight's mouth, which only accelerated the fragility of the moment. "That... must have taken a lot of practice to get right on camera." His emerald locks gathered in gorgeous curls just above his earlobe, and the dimpled surface of his bronzed skin looked even more delicious up close. "So... uh... Twilight?" He turned towards her, eyes like jade under starlight. A breath that smelled of pine and pizza rolls. "Is there a reason why you—?" He froze in place.

This was likely due to the fact that Twilight's lips were locked over his. It was a rigid gesture, having glided in like a glacier, and the sheer surprise of the moment—rather than the girl's pressure—is what kept it lingering in place for so long. Two spurts of noise issued from the base of his throat, and when neither were successful in shaking their lips apart, the boy suddenly leaned away from her, if only to breathe:

"Twilight?" His eyes fluttered, warm and innocent and receding. "Twilight, what—?"

She didn't dare let him slip further away. She leaned in, crossing the extra space between them, so now Timber was leaning back in a crooked angle to accept her kiss—which was a feathery soft thing that nipped wonkily at his nose before finally feathering back down to its target. Soon, her mouth was pressed against his once more, and it took a moment for her to remember to breathe. She did so, flaring her nostrils incidentally against his upper face, causing his eyelids to squint when they were already struggling damnably hard to remain wide.

She continued this connection between them, remembering to tease and suckle at his lips with her own, striving to fill this spontaneous stanza with all the poetry she had read about up until now. In the midst of the moment, her eyes darted to his hands again. They were gripping the bed covers so tight that Timber formed two craters on either side of him. He was tense. She was doing it wrong.

She released her lips... unwittingly giving him space to stammer: "Are you...?" He was squeaking. "Is everything...?" Rasping.

"Shhhhhh..." she tried to coo. It came out as a hiss. Nevertheless, she used the moment to slink towards him, crawling across the bed. "I l-love you, Timber." She hated herself for the brief stutter, but she stuck with the program. Something she may or may not have practiced alone on her own bed for seven nights straight with the lights out. "And you're right..." She freed one hand to loosen the scarf around her neck, revealing the deep neck cut of her blouse and the narrow cleavage it had hidden until now. "...we won't be seeing each other quite as much soon."

"I... uh..." His beady eyes rested on hers for one last time, then predictably plunged down into the bosom slowly icing towards him. "Uhhhhhh..."

Once Twilight had him captive, she crawled her way up his legs until she was straddling his waist. The skirt and blouse now felt like frail napkins draped over her goosepimpled body, and there was only way to warm herself up. She threw herself forward—arms encircling torso in a vice grip as she pressed herself—her two selves—into his stunned pecs.

"Please..." She reached a hand up to tickle the back of his head, threading the tips of her fingers into his curly green hair. "Just trust me and relax."

"Ghhhh..." He was wheezing from her embrace. A flushed color spread through his nodding head. "Yeah... I... uh... okay—"

She took a deep breath and plunged in for a kiss. Upon the collision of their faces, her glasses flew forward like an unbuckled drunk and rattled loosely against his skull.

"Urrt!" Timber produced into her mouth, wincing.

"Snkkkl!" she cursed against his teeth. With a free hand, she tossed the glasses away somewhere... anywhere. Meanwhile, Twilight tried tilting her head slightly to the side in order to... kiss him deeper? She explored the wet air with her tongue, and almost shrieked when something explored back. It was a slimier sensation than either of them expected, and she gave it a tap or two—which only forced the boy's tongue to retreat somewhere hidden in his hot, clamshell mouth.

What followed then was a whole hot lot of nothing, so she attempted to spice up the moment—if not for him, then for herself—by running her hands deep into his scalp, toying and tousling his curls in a way she never had before, but always wanted to. Once or twice, her digits caught more than a few tangles, and it summoned more sounds from his throat... and none of them all too pleasant.

Seething in mid-kiss, Twilight switched to Plan F. Somehow, Plans B thru E had evaporated in the space of twenty salivary seconds. She leaned back, giving him a chance to ventilate as she reached for the underside of her blouse.

"You're so..." She fussed with the hem, straddling the boy like a hyena with parkinson's. "...you're so..." Twilight undid a few buttons and hoisted the blouse for all it was worth, nearly tearing a few muscles in the gunshot striptease. "...you're so... h-hot, Timber..."

"Twilight..." She heard something sputter before her navel. Timber sounded like he had stumbled to a stop after running a mile. "Twi... b-baby... you... uh..."

"Hrnnngg..." Twilight clenched her teeth as she practically ripped the damnably-tight blouse up and over her bust, exposing a lace-purple brassiere with rose-thorn motifs woven intricately into the translucent cups. She panted and tossed her ponytail loose—a final act that took no small amount of fiddling with the hair ties over her scalp.

"You don't... I m-mean we really don't have to—" Those chivalrous words died deep in the back of Timber's throat as his eyes locked on that luscious lingerie, framed in smokey violet hair cascading past Twilight's supple shoulders. "... ... ...Huh."

She stared down at him in sultry silence. Instinctually, her skirted thighs squeezed together, which only served to caress the sides of Timber's waist. Coloratura's lusty yodels warbled in the background, accompanied by a bass beat that matched both young adults' throbbing hearts.

Timber's jaw was locked shut. His eyes finally darted back to Twilight's face, and she was alarmed at the... alarm.

Twilight glanced at his fingers once again—they were still tearing into the bed covers. So, with righteous authority, she reached down and grasped his left wrist—his main hand—and brought it towards her. There was only a momentary hesitation when they both reached nipple level. Nevertheless, after a firm gulp, she lightly placed his palm over the fullest portion of her right breast.

His fingers were frigid cold. She knew this because over sixty-percent of his fingers' length reached around the extent of her B-Cup. Naturally, she sucked her breath in from the sensation, but tried to make the best of it by thrusting her bosom tighter into his "grip." In truth, he was only touching her because her wrist kept his hand there. A deep, primal part of Twilight would have been lying if it said that she didn't want him to squeeze, fondle, do just about damn-near anything but only cling to her like a front door-knob. Which he was doing presently.

But then Twilight looked at his face, at the warmth that tingled lightly beneath the surface of his vulnerability. It was a look of near-childish wonderment that wafted off of Timber, and after taking a good whiff of it, Twilight gained the strength to carry forward.

She grasped his other hand, pressed it to her other breast, then leaned swiftly forward to devour his lips once again. This summoned a tiny moan from his upper body, for which Twilight felt immeasurable pride. He did—in fact—finally squeeze her breasts, but it was a tender gesture, lighter than falling snow. She purposed to transmogrify it into hailstones, leaning down even further to kiss his chin, suckle his cheeks, and nibble his ear. By the time she was smooching down his neck, he found the breath to squeak:

"Twilight..." It was wrought with trembles, none of which found their way up his wrists. He fondled her breasts like one might carry an organ transplant. "...this... th-this is awesome, but..."

"No but's," Twilight insisted. "Just enjoy it." Something she had read once in many a gazillion teen magazines. Something about assertiveness and spontaneity... or maybe it was periods and vegan diets. It was all a jumble and she couldn't parse through the immensity of her "studies" now. All she could do was remember the contents of her purse and work her way their, dragging her breath and fingers along the lengths of his t-shirt, massaging his chest through the fabric. "Let Twi take care of you."

"If..." He snuck through a kiss. "If we just... oh gosh..." He barely snuck through another kiss. "...if we j-just talked about—"

She brought the conversation down to his abs, kissing just above the hem of his shorts. Two hands broke his contact with her braw—if only to squeeze and tickle his thighs with two trembling girl-hands.

"Huaaaaaaa..." Was all Timber could manage slightly, his eyes burning holes in the ceiling. "...guhhhhhh... uhmmmm..."

She could sense the young man turning to putty in her embrace. At long last, Twilight had him exactly where she wanted him.

And then she heard the startlingly sterile sounds of her eleventh grade biology teacher. They both heard him, dissertating on cellular mitosis and the fundamentals of mitochondrial dna. Aasimov's duck feet! Twilight had forgotten to take her app off autoplay and recorded science lectures were the next thing on her playlist!

Timber briefly arched his head towards the gray-bearded teacher's speech through the television. "Is..." He trembled awkwardly under Twilight's crotchial embrace. "...Izzat Mr. Farrier Star?"

Twilight swallowed the urge to scream. Her phone was an astronomical unit away, much unlike Timber's batch. She decided to outrace sound, grasping Timber's shorts by the leggings and giving them a mighty tug.

"Gah—!" Timber let loose, squirming pantless on the bed, but that wouldn't be his last outburst.

Twilight made sure of it—or, at least, she would have made sure of it, hadn't she been flabbergasted at what she saw. Beneath Timber's pants, the young man wore a discreet pair of matte black boxers. But that wasn't the source of her concern. Rather, the source of her concern was a complete lack of source. For the time being, Timber's crotch was looking flatter than a pancake.

A million things raced through Twilight's head, but she chose to remain affirmative. After all, the boxers were sewn relatively loose and his quivering thighs were noticeably spread so there was plenty of room for...

...what she was about to unveil.

First, she leaned in—kissing and suckling his lower thigh. She looked up at him, an effort that nearly involved rolling her eyes back in their sockets, given how both lovers were positioned on the bed. She kissed his other leg, her nostrils tickling with the scent of sweat and... something else. It had been eighteen long years, but Twilight Sparkle finally had a sensation to give to the word "musk." It was a scent tinged with foreboding promise, but the girl had been on magical adventures before.

Timber's breath hiked, and one hand reached instinctually down to stop... something. He froze halfway before touching any part of her, instead kneading the air with tense fingers. Twilight had been far less reticent in that moment of unraveling, and as a reward she was given... Timber Spruce.

And she winced—not at his completely average four inches of length—but at the evident softness of the member. His penis was bent like a pirate's claw, and it throbbed between straight and unstraight with every other heartbeat. Nevertheless, the glans was barely poking out of the prepuce, the scrotum looked considerably weaker than she expected at its fuzzy base.

Green fuzz.

Twilight clenched her teeth.

Pubic hair. Somehow... she had forgotten that would be a thing. Her own crotch couldn't stop itching from the horrific exercise she had gone through in carefully shaving the thing smooth just two nights ago. In any case, that was her weapon of last resort. She still had two up front to salvage the moment with.

So, with fumbling fingers, she reached back to the hook of her bra and worked on releasing them.

"Twilight—" Timber once again produced.

Twilight's striptease once again silenced him. She dropped the lacy brassiere to the side of the bed. In a way, she regretted losing the tight article, because the way they lifted her breasts seemed to give them far more ample size than they actually owned. She made up for this by pressing both halves of her bosom together... with Timber's penis in the middle.

He sucked his breath in. Even if the sensation meant very little, the sheer sight of the type of contact they were both making was enough to have a paralyzing effect.

Not on all of Timber, thankfully. Twilight sensed a sultry throb of vascular tissue hardening up the meager ravine of her cleavage. He felt hotter than she expected, and she warmed herself before the fire that she slowly, eagerly kindled. She kept her eyes locked on his the whole time, a tenuous rope scaling the final precipice of their teenagehood. Twilight squeezed her chest together, "stroking" him as best as she could in the mammarian grasp. She tried to get a bit playful with it, rocking his tip left and right between her nipples—but the moment she saw him wince, she knew it was time to go into Plan T... which was ever so slightly safer than Plan U.

Her first attempt was the stupidest. She lowered her head like a giraffe, lips reaching towards the peak of her breasts to suckle... nothing. She froze in place, blushing at the realization that Timber wasn't long enough to reach "through" her bosom. Twilight then felt mortified at having highlighted that fact by lingering on the empty gesture for so long.

So—easing the icy moment into a ballet dance—she released her chestful grip and slinked down his legs until she was breathing hotly on his tender testicles. Her eyes locked on them, noticing how the left sack hung more than the right. The asymmetry intrigued her—

She was getting distracted. With a graceful hand, Twilight grasped his still-stiffening member and... gave it a squeeze? Gave it a tug? Gave it a twist? All of the essays and articles and internet guides she had read meant very little when she actually had the tenderest, slenderest piece of her boyfriend in her tiny-tiny grasp. Afraid of bruising or breaking the thing, she resorted to tender feather-light strokes, all the while eyeing his face for a response.

And Timber was full of them. "Oh gosh..." He seethed, caught between what looked like arousal and what also resembled kidney stones. "Ah jeez..." His toes wriggled on either side of her. "Twilight... you... you don't have—"

But she did. After a deep breath, she plunged—gobbling him up in a single mouthful.

Those same toes suddenly dug into the bedsheets. His whole body stiffened in... surprise? Arousal?

She fought sloppily for the latter, but it was strangely... drier than she expected. Her first tongue-drag across him elicited a trilling sound from his lungs that was tellingly abrasive. She made her second pass slower this time, sloshing around some saliva in order to further soften the moment. This only pushed a strange new flavor around faster in her mouth. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but it was definitely far from pleasant. A wayward memory from early childhood wafted into her bobbing head—of her toddler self sticking pennies in her mouth. She chased the grossness away just as she outfought the sounds of Mr. Farrier Star's lecture, attempting to fill the space in between with her beloved boyfriend's groans and moans.

Timber had plenty of those to give, but they were guttural and stiff at best, and she sensed his leg and ab muscles tensing out of sync with her oral treatise. So Twilight did the only thing the Internet taught her to do—or the only thing she could remember—she went deeper. Her lips dragged sloppily downward until they were digging into the tuft of his emerald forest. Then, remembering another "trick," she hummed as her cheeks did a suckling motion. However, this only opened her trachea... and all of the loosely-flowing copper-tainted saliva found its way back—

"Hrkkk! Klkkkk!" She popped her mouth off his groin with the grace of a beluga whale's spouting blowhole. "Koff! Kaff!" She sputtered undelicately into the air, raining spittle over his tummy. "Snrkkkkkk—fshhhhhtt!"

Timber winced. He reached his hand towards her again—not to hold her head in place, but with ample concern. "Twilight. Just... j-just wait." He gulped, covered all over in goosebumps. "Really. You don't have to—"

But she was plunging once more, this time using one hand to pump the lower end of his soft noodle while her mouth slurped and slobbered over the top. In the process of this furious felatio, she unsheathed his glans, unknowingly releasing an extra coating of sweat from beneath his foreskin. The sour taste went off like a bomb in her mouth, and the poor girl felt the urge to spit again. In fighting the impulse, she lost track of one of the million motor functions she was attempting to balance, and her pumping fist slipped off his scrotum and plunged down like an anvil into his larger testicle.

"Aaaa—!" Timber Spruce shrieked, his lower body flinching.

A likewise surprised Twilight flinched in the opposite direction, and in so doing her teeth scraaaaaped its way up to his urethra.

"AAAA—!" Timber full-on jumped this time, springing up past his headboard with the aid of his hands...

...and his skull slammed thoroughly into the bottom of the shelf that loomed above. The frail clips fastening it to the wall gave way, and the prop vinyl gun from his favorite video game went falling through miles of abandoned though, landing directly on his crown with a force that could break diamonds. Thwack!

"Gaaah!" He clutched his skull, shrinking half-naked against the wall as hot blood seeped between his fingers. "FUCK!" he let loose to the heavens.

Twilight could only watched—horrified—with a petrified look plastered across her gaping face... much like the splatter of their mixed sweat and drool. Her lips still quivered from the sensation of an oversized spaghettio string being jettisoned from her moist mouth. She raised both hands to her wet face, trembling visibly from her exposed nipples to her curled-up thighs. "Mrmmfffnngh..." she whimpered into her palms, only parting her painted fingernails for the grace to stammer: "Oh gosh. Oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh Timber—I am so... so sorry...!"

"Guhhhhhhh..." He seethed in and out through clenched teeth. He lowered one hand before his eyes, examining the blood staining his fingers. "Fuck..." He looked down at the floor and was somehow more aghast to see his prop collectible having broken in multiple pieces. "Awwww fuck."

"I... it... it's all m-my fault..." Trembling, Twilight fumbled to get up, waddling across the shakey bed. "You j-just wait here..."

"I..." Timber snapped out of the moment. Blood trickled down his face as he flung her a look. "Twilight..."

"I-I-I'll go grab you s-something to treat your h-head!" She crawled away, fell halfway to the floor, and limped back up to her trembling feet. "I'll be right back—"

"Twilight—!" Wincing, he yanked his boxers back up to his waist—more like several inches above it. This only afforded him the chance to lunge, but he nevertheless caught Twilight's wrist and yanked her back to the bed before she could get away. "Please—wait!"

"If we d-don't disenfect it soon then it'll swell and-and-and—"

"Twilight, wait! Please... just..." He was a basket of trembles, nevertheless he pulled her back to the bed and hugged her close, shivers and all. "Don't go. Don't go don't go please don't go." The last plea was a muffled one, voiced into her deliciously scented hair as he hugged her tight. He only stopped squeezing her when he realized that the blood from his scalp might get on her person.

When the hug parted, she was staring up at him with twitching eyes. "I messed everything up! Timber, I'm sorry! I was only trying to—"

"I know what you were trying to do." He gulped, squeezing her shoulders. "At least, I think... I don't believe that... what I mean to say is... is..." He clenched his eyes shut, teetering slightly as the fresh wound to the head sent a wave of dizziness through his otherwise durable frame. "Fooooo-boy. Just... just gotta think. Just... have to think..."

She quivered in his arms, half-naked and cold. "Timber... I... I..."

"Just... just give me a second, okay? Please, Twilight. Let's just... just breathe." He gulped. Hard. His eyes wandered... then found themselves stabbed by her exposed nipples. "I... uh..." His eyes immediately turned away as his toes and fingers fidgeted alternatively. "Erm..." He reached behind him, yanked loose a lengthy blanket, and wrapped it tightly around her. Covering here. "There. Just relax."

Her trembles had stopped, giving way to a whole new wave of something. Something cold, frigid... but slowly melting all over her in a bitter coating. As she squeezed the fabric of the blanket to her chest, she avoided looking into Timber's eyes, for fear of seeing the reflection of the gross little slut that had heel-clicked its way into his sacred domain. Tears welled up in her eyes, and nothing in all her years could prepare her with the knowledge or materials to dam them.

"Oh god... I'm so horrible..." she squeaked, burying her sobs into his chest.

Timber blinked stupidly at the walls for a few empty seconds. Then he sensed the texture of the blanket between them, and he instantly winced. "Oh Twilight." He swallowed a lump down her throat and squeezed her shoulders. "No."

"You t-told me to stop..." She whimpered into his shirt, staining it with her shame. "You told me to st-stop so many times and I didn't listen..."

"Shhhhh..." He held her close, rocking the two of them slightly. "I did and yet I didn't. It's not like you think—"

"Yes it is!" she wailed, making melancholic sounds the likes of which Timber had never heard from her, and now it tested his resolve. "I should have listened but I didn't and I'm so horrible—"

"No, you're not—"

She continued crying.

"No, Twilight." He shoved them apart, if only to stare her in the face. "You're not. Look at me."

She did her tear-stained best, hiccuping.

"You are a wonderful angel and I love you and I am not mad. Shhhh—Shhh. Look at me, Twilight. I'm not mad. You did nothing wrong and I'm not mad at you. Do you understand?"

"Timber..."

He smiled, although his own eyes watered above the effort. "I am not mad. I love you, Twilight. I love you." A sniffle, and he firmly shook his head. "I'm not mad over this. Just... just please." He gulped. "Stay here with me. Please, don't g-go anywhere." He kept his voice as firm as he could manage—for the both of them. "You... you can do that... you think?"

To that, she merely gave a soft, quiet nod. Her sobs had lessened to a dull tremor, and he hugged her close to his chest, wrapping the blanket around them both so that the warmth of the moment could melt away any unnecessary thoughts.

Only when her vision was enveloped by his embrace could Timber afford to allow his own tears to fall. He bit his lip, fighting his eyes back to dryness, even if it took half-an-hour of scraping the walls of his bedroom with frightened eyes. He spent the whole time holding Twilight close... which was the best thing any guy could ask for. Mr. Farrier Star filled the rest of the silence with his gentle, educational dulcet tones.

Sometime later...

Twilight Sparkle sat on the edge of the bed, hunched over and fiddling forever with her bangs. Drawing them up and down like a hunchback harpist. She wore a baggy pair of sweatpants that drew over her tiny ankles, and the blanket was still draped around her upper body. Despite the warm toastiness of the look, she was still beset with the occasional tremble.

At the soft sound of footsteps, she looked up... gnawing on her bottom lip.

Timber Spruce walked into the room with a tray. Two glass containers full of orange juice rested on top of it. The upper right portion of his brow had been hastily bandaged over. No doubt through frontiersman Everfree know-how, the young man's first aid skills had done an adequate job of staving the bloodflow.

Twilight watched as he quietly—dutifully—placed the tray onto the bedside counter next to her purse. He reached for the cups—but paused as he saw something on the floor. With gentlemanly grace, Timber leaned over and picked up Twilight's glasses from off the carpet. They had landed their countless lustful minutes ago, and now they were being placed back in her grasp.

She curtsied without standing up—something only a girl could do—and breathed hotly on the glasses before wiping the lenses clear and planting them over the bridge of her button nose. The room came into focus—as did Timber's handsome figure as he slid over onto the bed, sitting beside her with both glasses of orange juice. He handed her one and she gladly took it, taking a tiny-tiny sip.

His gulp was far more liberal than hers. He sat facing the now dormant television set, struggling to avoid his reflection. His toes dug into the carpet. Hers dangled a few inches above it.

All was tender and timid silence... until...

"How do the pants feel?" Timber attempted.

Twilight finished with her sip, swallowed, and attempted back: "Big."

He smirked ever so slightly. "Are they too loose? Not warm enough? Cuz I'm sure I can find something of Gloriosa's that could—"

"They're fine, Timber," Twilight insisted, dry and honest. "It's... I-I feel warm enough." Her delicate hands clasped around the circumference of the glass. "A great deal warmer than I felt in that stupid skirt I wore here."

He swallowed a volume of juice and exhaled. "Yeah..." He squinted her way. "...how did you get across the yard in that thing without the wind blowing it to the hills?"

She arched a sharp eyebrow at him. "Not sure why I put up the effort. Not like you even noticed."

He bit his lip.

She bit her lip too. "Sorry..." She looked away from him... hunched away from him. "...that came out wrong."

"No, I'm sorry. Usually I'm good at being the handsome screwball with impeccable comic timing, but... I-I feel off my game suddenly," Timber said, squirming slightly. "Here you..." He gestured between them. "...went... uh... above and b-beyond to look drop dead gorgeous for me and like the total oaf I am I hardly even paid any notice—"

"Is it a crime that you're constantly treating me like a gentleman?" Twilight braved a tender smile. "I shouldn't think so little of you and your interests, Timber."

"All day I spent talking about my own aspirations and sharing my own interests and... and..." Timber shrugged. "Let's face it. I was choking you out, Twilight."

"Yes, well..." She squeezed the glass to the point that she felt it might break. "...you're not the one who tried to rape the other today."

"You..." Timber's eyes crossed. He shook his head, nearly dropping his glass. "You did not rape me, Twi."

"I almost did!"

"Twilight—"

"I tried to!"

He looked directly at her. "You tried to give me a treat. From a girlfriend to a... not-girl-friend." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "There's a difference. Believe me. Besides..." He grimaced, gazing down at the floor a bit. "If... if I really wanted you to stop... I could have done so at any time. But... but I-I didn't." He swallowed more juice and exhaled. "So. Don't take all the blame, 'kay?"

Silence.

Her brow furrowed slightly as her lips pursed. "You... w-wanted me to make love to you...?"

"Well... eheh..." He chortled out the side of his mouth, avoiding her gaze as a blush flew across his features. "...maybe with slightly less gusto, perhaps... eheheheh..."

She winced.

He winced too. "Eheh... heh... yeah... but... uhm..." He slowly twirled his glass around in his hands, gazing down at the half-empty contents. "...I kinda sorta wanted you to keep doing... wh-what you were doing."

"Then..." She blinked, further confused. "...why did you keep trying to tell me to stop doing it?"

"Because I also didn't want you to do it?" He looked at her. "Kinda wanted it and kinda didn't want it?" A blink. "Does that make any s—?"

"No." She shook her head. "It doesn't."

"Yeah..." He sucked in his breath, looking at his glass again—raising it towards his lips but not sipping. "Didn't think so."

"But..." Twilight's feet swung left and right in the baggy sweatpants. "...you could try explaining it anyways?" She gazed at him. "If you think it would help?"

"I don't know. It's just..." A sagging sigh, and he looked at her. "I love you, Twi. I'm not saying that just because. It's true. I reallly mean it."

She nodded fervently. "I believe you, Timber."

"And..." The hint of a rosy smile rose beneath the fragile surface. "I really enjoy being around you. Like... my heart does jungle techno whenever you're friggin' around... minus the marijuana aesthetics on the album covers, of course."

She giggled... only because it seemed fitting.

It worked; he calmed slightly. "You fill me with joy. You're so pretty and smart and magical and you're a superheroine and you play in a friggin' band and... and I just friggin' love you, Twilight Sparkle." He swirled the glass, looking away slightly as his blush intensified. "And... in other 'areas'... I... I totally adore you as well. And... and the thought has most definite4ly crossed my mind more than once... more like every friggin' day... of... of h-how wonderful it would be to... y'know..." He nodded into the air, turning halfway towards her again. "...taking that extra step with you. Because... heh... you're on my mind every time, Twi—"

"You don't have to go into details, Timber—"

"I'm not kidding, though!" His voice rose slightly—enthusiastically. "Whenever I... y'know... do it... it's you I'm thinking of, Twi! You and only you!" A pregnant pause. "... ... ...and Zero Suit Samus. You and Zero Suit Sammy."

Twilight snorted.

"Sorry. But she's... like... Space Barbie. Friggin' Nintendo Princess. But she's not real." Timber lightly elbow'd his girlfriend. "So you've got nothing to be worried about."

Twilight rolled her eyes. "Lucky me." Then she looked into her glass, exhaling slowly. "Of course... I had to roll up and ruin all of that for you."

"Huh?"

"Face it, Timber... I... I rushed things."

"You did not rush things!" he protested. Then, a blink later... "Welllll..."

"Yuh huh." She took a fast sip, wiped her mouth dry with an unladylike wrist, and frowned into the walls of the room. "I wanted so... so badly to show you how much I appreciate you... and how much I deeply love you that I... I-I researched for weeks... months on how to 'treat a boyfriend.'" She guiltily locked her ankles together. "I-I had this entire exercise planned out from top to bottom... and somehow... naively... I thought it would all work out perfectly... and th-that you would like... uhm... being p-pounced on too."

"Well, it was a surprise for both of us, I guess." Clearing his throat, Timber narrowed his eyes on her. "I gotta ask... just who did you ask for advice on this...?"

"Hmmm?" She blinked at him. "Oh! No! N-none of the girls know about what I had been planning all this time! I hadn't said a peep to them! I swear!"

He exhaled with relief. "That's good to know. So, where did you go for—?"

"I researched the Internet."

"Oh. Fuck."

She winced, nodding. "And a bunch of teen magazines and several medical periodicals and a biological treatise on chimpanzees."

"What."

"I was up late one night. Don't ask." Twilight took a deep breath. "Anyways... I went way overboard. I treated it like a grandiose science experiment." Her sad eyes darted towards him. "I treated you like a science experiment, Timber. And... I'm sorry."

He merely shrugged at that. "Not like you could be blamed."

Her face contorted into a confused grimace. "Huh?"

It was his turn to sit hunched over.

"No. Please." She pivoted on the bed to face towards him. "Tell me, Timber. What did you mean by that?"

"Well, let's face it, Twi..." He grumbled slightly. "I've been leading you on a string this whole time."

"... ... ...huh?" Her face scrunched even harder.

"You know what I mean," he huffed. "Typical stupid male machismo stuff—"

"No, I don't know, Timber." She frowned. "If you want to be a man, then spell it out for me."

Sighing, he gazed lethargically at her. "All of my flirtatious quotes. All of my sexy smoulders. Every time I've ever winked at you or made a suggestive joke... complimenting you while at the same time teasing you... making mild suggestions for frisky-times, even..." He shrugged. "And in the end... you think that it's perfectly okay to jump me? Like... who can friggin' blame you?"

Silence.

"Uhm..." Twilight arched an eyebrow. "Timber? Don't take this the wrong way, but... you don't exactly have mind-control over me."

He sat up straight, blinking. "I don't?"

"No," she uttered. "You don't." Her face hung between a bitter smirk and an even bitterer frown. "And even with all of the 'sexist social norms' pressuring me to spread my legs every day... that's not what made me make my decision. Anyways... I won't go into all of that, cuz that's not what matters right now. The point here is that I love you and I thought I could do something that would make you—make us both feel good and I failed spectacularly." She shook her head. "I never thought you were seriously serious in all of those times you've flirted with me."

"You..." Timber's mouth hung open a big. "You weren't? But... I was afraid that I pressured you into—"

"Pffft." Her eyes rolled. "Timber, I wrestled with a horrible otherworldly inner she-demon and have since fought countless magical anomalies. On top of that, I've taken self-defense classes and volunteered at my brother's police department. I may be smaller and shier than you, but I'm not exactly a push-over." She held a hand over her blanketed chest. "All I can account for is myself, and I made a mistake here. Me. Not you."

He looked at her pensively, his body slumping slightly as he sighed to the floor. "I suppose my biggest mistake... would have b-been if I ended up taking advantage of what you were trying to give me earlier..."

She opened her mouth... but stopped. After a long, thoughtful breath, she swallowed a lump down her throat and cracked a sweet smile. "But you didn't." She reached out and caressed his shoulder. "I swear... to all that is holy and harmonious and magical... that it wasn't a test, Timber. But... but you didn't do anything horrible. I... I should have known better than to poke at a vulnerability that was so obviously there."

"I wouldn't..." He gritted his teeth, avoiding her gaze. "I wouldn't have even thought of..."

"Hey... hey..." She forced him to look at her with a gentle touch to his chin. A smile christened the moment yet again. "I'm telling you that I believe you. And that's just one more reason for me to love you more. And I already thought I was running out of them."

"And yet... I... I don't..." He choked on a hoarse breath. "Don't want..."

Her eyes searched. "You don't what, Timber?"

He grimaced. He raised the glass high and swallowed the last remaining bits of orange juice in one massive gulp, shuddering as the cold contents went down his esophagus and into his center.

"What, Timber?" She gently kneaded his arm. "What don't you want?"

"For..." He was having a hard time breathing. Soon, she saw why. His eyes had grown incredibly misty, and he raised a hand—gnawing at the knuckle as he fought to look at her straight. "...for you to t-think that... that j-just because I couldn't get it up for you s-somehow... it means that I don't care for you or d-don't find you sexy..."

She cooed. "Oh, Timber..."

He sniffled, shaking his head as he aimed his tears away from her. "Just... fuckin'..." A shudder. "...I've got so little to offer. Woohoo." He frowned wetly into the shadows of the place. "What a big friggin' surprise. Bet you're glad you worked soooo hard for that little reveal, huh?"

"Timber, sweetie..." She threw her arms around him, hugging him tight. "Nothing could be more precious than what's been revealed to me today."

"Twilight, don't—"

"Shhh! Don't tell me what to say or what not to say." She looked him nose to nose. "I love you... every bit of you. And even if you wanna stress it—I caught you off guard! It's not the pace you wanted. Why... I'd be just as uncomfortable and weirded out myself. Heck... I was uncomfortable and weirded out. But I don't feel that way any longer. And that's because I know how much you love me."

He sat still, shaking only slightly. His jaw was clenched.

"Is that so hard for you to believe?" Twilight asked, squeezing him again. "The feeling's mutual, Timber. Nothing's going to change that. Especially if..." It was her turn to sniffle slightly, but her smile held true. "...if you're not mad at me. Because I was afraid, Timber. I was so afraid."

At long last, he reached back to her, if only to squeeze her hand. "... ... ...I don't know wh-what I'd do if I lost you, Twilight..." A tear or two fell from his eyes.

"Awwwwwww..." She held his face into her shoulder. "Sweetie..."

"I'd h-hate myself forever..." He whimpered like a blubbering child into her embrace. "...if something as stupid and small as... as this took you away from me."

"Well, prepare to love yourself forever." She patted his shoulder, her eyes wet over a rosy expression. "Because that's not happening."

"I talk big... and I joke big..." He looked up at her, calming slightly. At last, a fragile smell formed. "I r-really mean it, Twi. You're... you're my whole world... these d-days..."

She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, a gesture he had initiated at the front door, but now it made complete sense. And she cherished it—just as she cherished him. "I know that now."

"You..." He cleared his throat, his tears dissipating slowly. "...you don't mind if... if we take... y'know... ... ... moist things a tad bit more slowly?"

"Not at all, Timber." She hugged him close again. "In fact... I-I think I'd much rather prefer it."

"G-good!" He exhaled with the first relief she had heard from him in ages. "That's... uh... that's great!"

"Yes. Besides..." She waggled her eyebrows. "It'll give me better time to prepare for next time."

He blinked at that... then blushed noticeably.

She giggled and leaned in to nuzzle the nape of his neck, smiling contentedly to herself.

"I... uhm..." He fiddled a bit where he sat. "I think they're great too, by the way."

"Hmmm?" She looked up with an innocent expression. "What are?"

"Your... uhm... your..."

She blinked. Then opened her mouth in a visible circle. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh..." A beat, and then it was her turn to blush. "You really think so?"

"Pffft. Absolutely! Are you kidding me?"

"But..." She clutched her chest beneath the blanket. "They're... y'know..." She bit her lip. "So small."

"Hey..." He leaned in with a wink. "You 'know' me by now. I have a penchant for small."

She giggled, then waved a hand. "I like yours too."

"Hahahahahaha—wait. What?"

She adjusted her glasses, fidgeting. "Er... what I mean is..." She snapped a finger. "They're asymmetrical! I... wasn't expecting that."

"Huh..." He squirmed where he sat, wincing slightly. "Yeah. I guess they are. Who'd have figured."

"Someday, perhaps, I'll get to study them closer."

"Heh. Sure thing, Twi." He smiled at her. "Just promise me that—between now and when that day happens—one of us will think to pack protection."

"Huh?"

"Y'know." He cleared his throat as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I... don't actually keep rubbers around." He then made a face as his features drooped. "Ew. I even call them by their British name."

"Oh! But that's where you're wrong!" she exclaimed.

"I am?"

"I totally prepared for the occasion! I just didn't get far enough with you! Here, look!" And she reached off the bed, nearly dropping the blanket in the effort. At long last, she reached into her purse on the bedside, stirring the contents within. "I came packing—!"

He grimaced at the cans being knocked around. "You brought two cans of mace?! That was your protection?"

"No!" She adjusted her spectacles. "Well... yes. Only... not really! Cuz I didn't really need them. Still, a self-respecting woman needs to be prepared."

"I guess—"

"Voila!" She leaned back, yanking a veritable entrail of tiny pink condoms tied in a massive ribbon. "See?" She waved the twenty or so packages between the two of them. "Armed and protected!"

"... ... ..." Timber's lips tightened together as he snorted into an amused grin. "Snkkkkt... pfffffft..."

Twilight almost frowned. "What?"

"Pfffft—hahahahahaha!"

She folded her arms, unwittingly crossing the string of condoms over her torso like a pastel bandolier. "What's so funny?"

"Twi... babe..." He patted her shoulder. "I don't care how sexy you are... but there's no way in hell I would have come that many times!" He proceeded to slap his knee in further laughter.

Blushing furiously, she nevertheless waved the ribbon around like nunchaku. "Yeah? So?" She smirked. "We could have used the rest to make party balloons afterwards! Y'know! To celebrate!"

"And—holy sh-shit!" His eyes bugged suddenly at the packaging. "Are those friggin' Magnums?!" His jaw hung low. "How much did you expect me to be packing, girl?"

"I... uh..." She blushed even more. "...I th-thought they'd do a better job of collecting, y'know..."

"Y'know..." He face palmed, still giggly. "...to be perfectly honest, I don't know what size fits what myself."

"Guess we... uh... both dodged a bullet on that one, huh?"

"Some more than others! Friggin' A!"

She laughed and hugged him.

He laughed and hugged her.

A shared, soulful sigh.

"... ... ...Timber?"

"Yes, Twilight?"

"Do you suppose we're both dorky enough to last forever?"

"We'd better," he said with a shrug, hugging her closer. "After all, we have the same initials."

She blinked. "... ... ...Aasimov's duck feet! We do have the same initials, don't we?"

"You just now realized that?! I thought you were the smarter of the two!"

"Well, your charm spilled over on this one!"

"Heheh... we're written in the stars, baby!"

"Heehee... I guess we are."

"Heheh... yeah..."

"Yeah..."

Author's Note

So long as she's happy, I can ship her with anything.

Oh... and he's got nice hair, I suppose.

Thaaaaaaat's more like it