The sun blazed overhead, a warm breeze danced across his flesh, and Anon, in one of his rarer instances in Ponyville, was utterly at a loss for words. He’d only wished to go out for a coffee and a freshly baked scone from Sugarcube Corner, hoping to start his day off on the right foot, yet things had taken a turn as soon as he’d opened his front door and stepped outside. Having locked up behind himself and turned around, he found himself facing two of the more dubious creatures which haunted the sleepy little village.
He immediately recognized the duo and knew exactly why they’d decided to ambush him at such an early hour, having suffered through the ritual on many mornings prior and, if he had to guess, many mornings yet to come. Standing to his left, rangy and svelte, the pony had subtle curves that rivaled those of a runway model - to his right, the runtish, shapely equine was the definition of a shortstack. All told, the pair were appealing in their own right - the issue was that neither of them were mares…
“Morning, Anon!” the half-pint unicorn bleated, leaping forward to hug his calf.
Scrunching his snout, the lanky pony took a step and attempted to dislodge his friend. “Get off’a him! You said we were gonna stop doing that!”
“Nuh-uh!” the dwarfish stallion groused, glowering over his shoulder. “It’s not my fault that Anon looked at me first!”
“He did not!” the slender unicorn countered, indignantly stamping a hoof.
Shaking his head and dragging his snout on the man’s lower leg, the plump pony held firm. “He did too!”
Anon pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and giving an exasperated breath. Snips and Snails, being the shorter and taller ponies respectively, had taken an interest in him as soon as he’d mystically appeared in town. While a bit dim-witted and prone to getting into mischief, neither of the stallions were bad by any means - that said, they practically stalked him everywhere he went. It wasn’t like he had a problem with having a pair of fans, but their particular variety of affection strained his once stalwart heterosexuality.
“Anon,” Snips whined, locking a fetlock around his calf, “make him stop!!!”
With a petulant snort, Snails stepped to the side, reared to his hind legs, and reached up to grasp the man’s waist. “Fine - the hugs are better up here anyways!”
Before Anon could react, the willowy unicorn’s cheek was pressed squarely to his groin. Heaven help him, he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to endure the pairs’ dogged affection until he broke. It was bad enough that he didn’t even realize they were stallions for nearly a week, finding them as or more attractive than most of the mares in town, but the fact that they’d started wearing makeup and questionable attire, admittedly for him, did nothing to quell the beast that was his libido.
“You’re gonna smear your blush,” he grunted, hanging his head and keeping his eyes shut.
His comment elicited a small gasp from the duo, and they instantly detached themselves from him. One small benefit of dealing with the two was that he was an order of magnitude more intelligent than either of them - unfortunately, much to his chagrin, their lack of intellect only served to heighten their appeal. Without saying a word, knowing what was coming next, he sank into a deep squat and brought himself as close to their eye level as he could.
“I…it’s not too bad, is it?” Snips squawked, twisting his head to peer up at his friend.
Following suit, Snails looked down at his companion with concern. “I didn’t smear my lipstick, did I?”
“Here,” Anon huffed, causing them to glance over at him, “let me see…”
Turning his attention to Snails, if only because he was the loftier of the two, he pursed his lips. Adorned with turquoise lipstick, matching eyeshadow, and a bit of blush on his cheeks, the young stallion dolefully peered into his eyes. If the little guy wasn’t so adorable, he wouldn’t have been bothered by checking the crossdressing pony’s cosmetics - sadly, that wasn’t the case.
Giving a small nod, he reached out and tousled the femcolt’s mane. “Yup, everything looks fine.”
“Check mine too!” Snails dejectedly sulked.
Stifling a groan, Anon listed to the side and propped himself on one arm. Having a polar-opposite build to his companion, the diminutive unicorn was so low to the ground that he had to lose more height. Easing himself onto an elbow, he cocked his head and gave the tiny stallion a thorough inspection.
Having opted for some more traditionally colored makeup, Snails had anointed himself with cherry-red lipstick, a touch of mascara, and just a hint of eyeliner. As he looked the miniature faux-mare over, something caught his eye. Leaning back, giving himself a closer look, he squinted.
“Did you pluck your eyebrows?”
“N…no!” the compact stallion blurted, his cheeks darkening ever so slightly. “Maybe…”
“Shoot, I almost forgot,” Snails grumbled, reaching toward his lower half, “we got you something.”
Trying not to think too hard on how the duo routinely showed up wearing new, perfectly-fitted garments, Anon swallowed hard. Darned if he knew what in the wide world of Equestria they’d forgotten, but his eyes slowly drifted from one demure stallion to the other. Someone in town was supplying them with fresh, suspiciously slatternly clothing, and the seductive outfits they kept showing up with only kept getting increasingly bold.
Wearing what he could only describe as a black micro skirt, fishnet leggings, and a white, open blouse, Snails could easily pass for some sort of quadrupedal harlot - unfortunately, with pony society’s somewhat laissez-faire outlook on attire, nobody would likely give the stallion a second glance. Spying the waistband of what he could only presume was a thong clinging to the lissom unicorn’s hips, he looked over to his other visitor.
Clad in some strange parody of a school girl uniform, replete with a frilly skirt, white top, jeweled pendant, and crimson kneesocks, Snips’ outfit looked like something out of an anime - not that he was complaining. There was something magical about seeing the fabric pinch into the stallion’s plump, inviting thighs, but he knew it was a trap. Before certain parts of himself could be too enticed by the sight of the pair, he hastily got to his feet.
“What was it you forgot?” he pressed, quirking a brow.
“Snails, you goof, I told you I was gonna carry it!” Snips chirped, fishing into his collar and retrieving three slips of paper. “We wanted to know if you’d like to get breakfast - you know -”
“With us!” Snails interrupted, stepping in front of and cutting his friend off. “They’re vouchers we can use at Sugarcube corner for - Hey!”
And just like that, with not but the smallest faux pas, the pair were at it once again. Shoving and fussing at one another, they vied for the man’s praise and affection. He’d heard that they’d been friends for ages, growing up alongside each other and being nearly inseparable, yet he couldn’t be sure if his appearance was forming a wedge between them. Folding his arms over his chest, he cleared his throat and brought their squabble to an end.
“How about we all go get some breakfast and have a good morning,” he sighed.
Their eyes went alight, smiles graced their faces, and they plastered themselves to him in a heartbeat. Realizing they weren’t going anywhere, that he’d quite literally have to shake them off himself, he ponderously trudged off his stoop and toward the bakery. He wasn’t all that concerned with the pair’s attempts to one-up one another, since they bickered on a regular basis - no, his real concern was that one day, perhaps tomorrow or years in the future, his self-restraint would buckle under the weight of the cutest, most friendly ponies he’d ever met…
