Salvation | Rebirth

Wild moved with the ease of a butterfly and, naturally, stung like a bee. He wasn’t sure where exactly that thought came from, probably from some martial artist? It was familiar, but he found that a lot of his memories had grown blurry with time and, of course, because other memories had overtaken them. Slowly but surely, he was forgetting the world he came from, even if things important to him remained in his mind and likely would remain for many years to come.

That was not important at the moment, in the moment, as he dueled another in the Martial Arts Club. He moved with ease not experienced before, swinging his saber precisely and with force, countering everything that came his way and dishing out strikes that rung in the chilly air. However, despite how easily he moved and how well he could read his opponent thanks to both his experience and his ability to catch thoughts, he wasn’t given ground so easily. As he grew in skill and strength, so did others, and many had been encouraged by his own success to take swordsmanship more seriously if only to get on the even ground with him.

Precision struck at him with a longsword, using a magical equivalent of a two-handed hold to deliver as much power and have as much control over the blade as she could. Wild expected the strike, stepping to the side and thrusting. She almost stumbled out of the way, managing to bring her sword up just in time to swat the tip of his saber away from her chest. Wild turned it into a series of swings, striking from side to side, testing her agility and endurance as she was forced to block again and again, not given time for a counterattack.

Since he had come to know her, she had certainly grown in skill hoping to match his own and, eventually, overcome it. Unfortunately for her, he was technically cheating, and the boost from the Alicorn Amulet had allowed him to bypass years of magical strength training, thus leaving a far larger gap between him and her, even if his skill technically hadn’t changed. However, his reaction time, his speed, his strength, his agility, they all formed an advantage that he was very much not at all against using to his benefit.

Precision lunged in a thrust, and even with half a second’s warning Wild almost didn’t manage to dodge it. Then he used his saber to slap her blade aside long enough to deliver a thrust of his own, and this one connected, ending the bout.

Precision was breathing hard as she bowed, and Wild bowed in return. He was no doubt sweaty, but, with some amusement, he caught the thought that Precision was viewing the situation as unfair, considering that he was not, in fact, panting like her. She had given close to all that she had, and yet she still failed, continuing her string of endless losses to him. However, it did not deter her in the slightest - there was promise in her gaze, an oath to train hard and train well to defeat him, which she thought an eventuality, even if she had to spend years or even decades to get there. Wild could definitely appreciate her drive, which reminded him of his younger self, when he first picked up the sword.

Another pair of fighters entered the ring as Wild and Precision left. Precision went to Pebbles, who was among the spectators, waiting with a nice and refreshing pitcher of fresh water.

“You’ll kick his butt someday,” Pebbles told her as Precision greedily drank straight from the pitcher.

“I’ll do my best,” Precision said as she paused for air before finishing emptying the pitcher.

“Yep, without a doubt,” Pebbles nodded, then wrinkled her muzzle, “Now come on, off to showers, you’re stinky.”

Wild’s own rest period with Artful was, in comparison, silent. Artful was there to support him much like Pebbles with Precision, but neither of them needed to speak. Wild drank the water Artful helpfully provided for him, and then the two headed together on a jog. For Wild, it had grown into a tradition, jogging after the Martial Arts Club, and Artful was accompanying him now as a part of his own training regiment.

Wild didn’t miss how Artful had been watching him, a mix of emotions radiating off him then: amazement at how easy Wild made it look, wonder at the dedication it took to get even halfway as good as Precision, and there was more with an undercurrent of... lust. Wild suspected it was there, and it definitely wouldn’t be the first time Artful appreciated Wild’s physique, but it still caught him off-guard more often than not. Although, Wild now could at least admit that he was relatively handsome by pony standards. He was tall, he was pretty big, though more lean than bulky, and his more specific features like the shape of his face and his colors weren’t bad either. He had already caught some looks from a number of ponies aside from Artful, though it appeared everyone knew not to approach him about it. Not that he’d accept any advances if he were approached, but he was thankful he didn’t need to say anything about it. With luck, no such situation would come up. If one did, then at least he’d easily be able to reject the mares considering he was gay.

Wild set the pace, mild for his standards, but still fast enough that it was more than a leisurely walk through a park. Artful, for his shorter gait and being less trained, matched him in speed, and Wild led him on a path that sprung up in his mind.

Pony bodies, unlike humans, were made for running, Wild found. It was easy to gain a massive amounts of speed, and trotting was barely more than what a human would consider a faster than average walk. Four legs working in tandem made Wild eat up the distance like it was nothing, traveling at a speed of an easy bicycle ride. Well, perhaps not as fast, considering that Wild was not as large as a regular Earth horse, but it definitely felt fast. If he galloped, he would perhaps achieve the speeds of thirty kilometers an hour if not more, although he was certainly far from a race pony. He thought that perhaps he would look up the exact speeds in the future.

He glanced over to Artful, who was keeping up despite, as far as Wild knew, not eating anything yet. Wild remembered that some people trained well on an empty stomach, but he wasn’t so sure it applied to Artful. He was getting tired quickly, though he tried his best to hide it and push through. Wild slowed down slightly for the strain to lessen.

Wild, per Doctor Fay’s advice, had let the relationship continue and tried to put his worries and anxieties aside. He reminded himself near-constantly that Artful willingly chose him and was just as willingly staying with him even after having learned more about Wild’s situation and origins. He wasn’t scared away and neither was he disturbed by the revelations. Perhaps it rang true that Artful did indeed treat him like a person from some distant country. Wild wasn’t sure he would be so at ease if Wild were in Artful’s situation. Although, if he thought about it... wasn’t he in such a situation already? He was surrounded by entirely different intelligent species, and he had... fallen in love with one of them. He wondered if the same would have happened had he still been a human in body. Did his outlook on what was and wasn’t handsome and beautiful change because of his new body or would he have felt the same even as a human? There was, unfortunately, no way for him to know. He liked to think that he, perhaps, would still have grown to find ponies physically attractive, but would any of them had found him attractive? He was under no illusion that his old body was anywhere close to an acceptable standard of beauty.

Of course, the entire point was moot since reality was different, and it was no use thinking of what could have been. Things were not different, things were how they were, and he had to work with that.

Wild still worried about the physical part of his relationship with Artful. It wasn’t like he disliked it, and in fact he greatly enjoyed it, and Artful was very willing to both initiate and receive, but... there was something he needed to talk to Doctor Fay with.

“There is a saying,” Doctor Fay told him when he admitted to his anxiety, “A lone pony freezes, a herd lives to see the end of winter. This is a cultural thing that all ponies know, and I believe you’ve not yet learned.”

Wild shook his head - it was his first time hearing this saying.

“Before we ponies learned how to build shelter, the only way to survive winters was to huddle together and sleep in a pile,” she explained, “All because the combined heat of the bodies was enough to ward off the cold. Physical closeness is, so to say, in our blood. It is freely given and freely received. Your experience had been different, I suppose?”

Wild nodded, then opened his mouth to explain how it was, and it took him some time to form the words.

“I... never... did much... close physical things,” he said, feeling the awkwardness in his every word, “Sometimes, my parents hugged me, but... nothing much,” he paused for a moment as he gathered his strength to admit to a thing, “I... really like how... close I am to Artful. It... feels right.”

“Did you know that there was a study done, and the results are that a person, regardless of species, needs at least four hugs a day for survival?”

Wild shook his head. Four hugs a day? Maybe he got four hugs a year before... before his father suffered. After that? He didn’t remember. Didn’t really want to remember.

He still remembered the first hug he had in the new world. And the second. And the third. And more after that.

Doctor Fay looked at him with... not pity, no, but empathy. He averted his eyes, a combination of something like shame and, perhaps, regret, though he couldn't tell exactly what it was and refused to look.

“I imagine it was a shock seeing how much casual affection is a part of our lives,” she continued, “How commonplace it is no matter where or when. It is believed that it’s not Princess Celestia that managed to keep the peace for centuries but the hugs that we give and receive each and every day.”

It sounded completely ridiculous, but... Wild could believe it. Hugs made him feel... better, in every way. Artful had freely given him that and more, and he realized he was unwilling to part with that. The nuzzles, the bumps, the hugs, the intimacy, he wanted all of it, more of it, every day, for the rest of his life.

Why was it so difficult to accept?

“What do you feel when you are hugged or initiate a hug?” Doctor Fay asked.

Wild took his time to think of the answer, to put those feelings into words. It seemed like a disservice to even think of trying to explain it because Wild knew no explanation would truly suffice. It had to be felt, experienced. However, he would still try his best.

“It makes me feel... safe,” he settled on saying. He did not say how vulnerable he felt each and every time. He did not speak a word about how, despite all of that, he had felt like nothing could hurt him when he was in a hug, “Like I belong,” and wasn’t it acceptance of him that led others to hug him? If they hated him, disliked him, they would never offer it, no. And, lastly, a thing he had trouble admitting, “Like I am... loved.”

From Artful, each hug was like a burst of love, each embrace precious. From Luna, each hug was like a warm blanket of care that settled over him, protecting him.

Wild blinked - why was his vision suddenly so blurry?

“I suppose there is one prescription I can give you,” Doctor Fay smiled at him with some humor, “Hugs, the more the better.”

Wild let out a small, somewhat wet laugh at it.

There was some more discussion after it, of course, but it all came to one conclusion - ponies gave affection freely and gave it often. Wild didn’t need to worry about the physical part of his relationship with Artful, didn’t need to step back afraid he went too far too soon. Artful freely gave, and Wild freely received, it was truly as simple as that. Wild would only need to learn how to freely give. He already managed to go further than he ever thought possible, considering how often he was very intimate with Artful, but that resembled more desperation for pleasure than anything else. Wild knew he wasn’t being coerced, and he did love the intimacy, but he needed to... settle with it, in a way. To let his anxiety disperse and disappear.

Later after the training, when it was evening and Wild was preparing to go to sleep - though still worried for Artful because he had eaten nothing at all during the day as far as Wild knew - Artful briefly disappeared, telling Wild to wait in Artful’s dorm. It was the first day of their ‘exchange’, time when Wild would sleep with Artful on Artful’s bed. Just like the last time Wild visited this dorm, he took his time browsing all the various paintings that seemed to completely cover every wall. When Artful returned, Wild could immediately sense a thick cloud of lust.

“Wild,” Artful spoke, walking up very close to him. Wild bent down a little, and Artful placed a kiss on the lips, a small one with the promise of more, “Would you like... to have sex now?”

Wild’s response was to give him a kiss of his own.

***

There was no undressing - both of them were, naturally, nude. Still, there were steps between the two of them standing as they were and them having sex. It started, as it always did, with kisses. Artful guided Wild to the bedroom, and Wild obliged quite willingly. Both of their tails were swishing from side to side in excitement.

The two of them lay down on the bed, pressed together front to front, rubbing against each other as they exchanged kisses. Wild felt his erection grow, and no doubt Artful was not far behind - if anything, he was ahead already, fully stiff. The atmosphere of lust was almost too much to handle, but Wild managed, letting his own growing lust join in and wash over the two of them together. He shivered, pressing into Artful even more, hugging him close as he moaned into his maw as the two shared a long and wet kiss. When they separated, Artful pushed a bit further away, signifying that he wanted to say something.

“Today...” he said breathlessly, “I want you to fuck me. In my butt.”

Wild froze in place.

“I have the lube, and I am ready,” Artful said, “That’s why I’ve not eaten anything today.”

Wild realized that it made a startling amount of sense. The whole day Artful was preparing to be on the receiving side of anal sex, and Wild didn’t even notice. Perhaps he should have, considering that the growing lust was rather poorly-hidden, but that didn’t matter now. Wild looked down, noting how both their cocks were twitching in anticipation against each other.

Wild then nodded, feeling the excitement filling him. The two separated, and Artful rolled a bottle of lube from under his bed. They had already tested what remained in his old bottle in case Wild was allergic to it - it was a small dab that went on one of his legs. No burning or itching or any other unpleasant sensation followed, and now Wild knew on why Artful insisted on testing it not so long ago.

“I want you to... lie on your back,” Wild said. He wanted to look at his face, see his expression, look into his eyes and see the pleasure when Wild made love to him.

Artful did as asked, taking a comfortable position on the bed, piling up the pillows to support his head. Wild swallowed, voicing nothing about the very pleasant sight in front of him, and then uncapped the bottle.

“Smear some on my butthole,” Artful directed, and Wild did as asked. Then he covered his cock in the lube, making sure it was thorough. Even then, he wasn’t sure his cock would even fit. However, before Wild could voice his doubts, Artful spoke again, “Put it in.”

Wild placed his front hooves to the sides of Artful, making sure he didn’t step on the wings that were fully unfurled. He then moved forward, looking down and using his magic to line his cock with Artful’s anus. The tip was now touching. Wild pulled back slightly, added some more lube just in case, then pushed.

Artful let out a moan and a shudder when Wild’s tip entered, sliding in easily. Wild moaned in turn, feeling the tightness, and then slowly inched forward. At about halfway, it seemed to slow down, somewhat uncomfortably too. Wild pulled out, applied some more lube, and went back in again. This time, he made it all the way, going balls-deep.

“Oh f-fuck...” Artful moaned almost breathlessly. Wild gave him a deep kiss.

Wild pulled out fully, added even more lube, and then put his cock back in. It slid without any serious resistance, and Artful only moaned, showing no signs of discomfort.

Wild realized that it could perhaps somewhat count as losing one’s virginity. In a way, it probably was, although he had already had sex with Artful plenty of times, but never anal. Now... they went further than before, and it felt amazing.

Wild slowly picked up speed, going forward and backwards about three quarters of the way. He didn’t want to slip out and then miss or something awkward like that.

“AH!” Artful arched his back, and Wild stopped in fear that he somehow managed to hurt him. Artful, however, was not in pain at all, “R-right there... yes, fuck me!”

Wild did not need any more encouragement. He thrust forward and back at a steady pace, angling his body just right to hit... he was fairly sure it was called the g spot. The pleasure spot. Whatever it was, Wild seemed to be doing it right judging by how loudly Artful moaned. Then he used his front legs, which were left dangling a bit to the sides in front of his chest, wrap around Wild’s upper body and pull him in, and Wild offered no resistance. He only needed to adjust the position of his rear legs, and then he went back to it. Artful moaned with every thrust, sometimes muffled when the two of them shared a kiss, and Wild did not hesitate to moan as well. He was very glad that the dorms had good sound insulation, otherwise their neighbors might have complained.

All too soon, Wild felt the building pressure-pleasure between his legs. It wasn’t like either of them lasted particularly long when they went at it, and Wild didn’t feel like stopping for a breather. Their combined pleasure and lust might have threatened to overcome his senses, but he still kept his head despite the haze he wanted to lose himself in.

Wild realized that he had left Artful hanging, and so he started applying his magical hands to Artful’s cock.

“Ah! I’m gonna cum!” Artful vocalized, and all too soon his cock sputtered, sending cum right on his stomach and chest.

Wild wasn’t done yet, picking up a bit of speed to finish soon because, now that Artful had come, the pleasure seemed almost overwhelming. Artful moaned loudly, twitching under Wild.

With a few powerful thrusts and no words to warn Artful, Wild groaned and unloaded deep into Artful, pushing him into the bed, almost collapsing on top of Artful as he went for another deep yet sloppy kiss. He pulled out a bit, realized there was more left, and thrust back in, lifting Artful’s butt slightly in the air.

A seemingly infinitely long moment later, he breathlessly collapsed on top, and neither of them moved for a long moment, Wild not even bothering to pull out. He would get to it, and soon, just... he had to catch a breath. The haze of pleasure and excitement was slowly dispersing, and the gears of his mind started turning at regular speeds and no longer influenced by lust as much.

Perhaps it all went quick, maybe too quick, but neither Wild nor Artful were going to complain.

“You’re amazing...” Artful said, and received a kiss of thanks, “Fuck... We should do it again. Later.”

Wild could not disagree at all.