This is bad.

Scootaloo stared at the shadowed ceiling, heart racing in her ears. She had been staring at it through wide eyes for the better part of the last two hours, despite having given up trying to will herself asleep after the first thirty minutes. Now she was simply fretting about the absurdity of her situation, torn between the realization that she was one wrong move away from ruining everything, and the reckless desire to simply enjoy herself while it lasted.

The evening had started so well, too. Silver Spoon and the other Crusaders had gotten along perfectly well, even better than she could have hoped. Instead of suspicious glares and awkward silences, both sides seemed to have taken her request for basic civility to heart. Heck, they'd even been friendly, and almost immediately, too. True, Apple Bloom had been a little too quick to poke fun at Silver Spoon--Scootaloo was certain they weren't good enough friends for that yet--but she'd at least been quick to back off after Scootaloo had cast her a...gentle warning glance. Silver Spoon's quiet, blushing response had proven to Scootaloo that the silver filly was not comfortable with jokes being made at her expense.

And then the startling revelation about Silver Spoon's home life...the sickening shock still hadn't completely worn off. Scootaloo had wanted to come across the sofa and embrace the other filly almost immediately. Her forelegs and wings ached to be wrapped around the crying pony, to offer whatever comfort she could, to wipe away her tears and tell her everything was alright...but she couldn't do it. Every time she mustered the will to make a move, panic had risen in the back of her throat, and she'd stopped herself just in time, relaxing muscles that had flexed in anticipation. Shame at her own cowardice hung over her, making each additional attempt that much harder to resist until Sweetie Belle had finally broken the ice in her own uniquely dramatic way. Once she and Apple Bloom had both embraced their new friend, Scootaloo joined them, the experience still somewhat diminished by the realization that she should have made the first move, not the last.

In truth, Scootaloo had been fighting urges to find a reason to cuddle up with Silver Spoon all night. From the first moment she and Silver Spoon had settled into the couch together, Scootaloo's mind had begun to search for an excuse to come across the sofa and snuggle the other filly. Of course, she had no illusions that she might actually follow through on her guilty desires, but the mere plotting and searching for an opportunity was sufficiently tantalizing to force her to focus on keeping her wings folded and her tail down.

It wasn't even a sexual thing, necessarily. Certainly, she was physically attracted to Silver Spoon--and had been for a long time, if she were honest with herself--but the other filly had become so much more to her, and so quickly. Scootaloo had always thought Silver Spoon's entire identity was wrapped up in the incessant taunting that had dominated their early relationship, but stripping that away had left her bare and vulnerable. She was a poor reflection of Diamond Tiara, a gentle pony, not cut out for the emotionally demanding and ruthless task of bullying others. The fact that she'd ever been a bully in the first place was a testament to Diamond Tiara's dominating personality.

Silver Spoon was very nearly the opposite of her former friend. She was meek and passive, emotionally fragile and eager to please. Alone, these qualities were uninteresting to Scootaloo, who was used to dealing with intense, overbearing personalities like her parents and her friends. However there was something else there, something deeper, more elusive. Scootaloo had seen flashes of it before, moments of bright, unguarded joy and excitement at her own successes.

Silver Spoon was an emotional pony, not just in the melancholy sense, but in the most deliciously pleasant sense, as well. She had sighed contentedly when the first movie had started and Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle had snuggled up to her. She had giggled, a soft and musical sound, and even laughed, loudly, intensely, and with tears in her eyes. She had choked up and sniffled with the rest of them at the sad scenes, and even curled her hooves around Sweetie Belle when the emotionally extravagant unicorn had burst into sobs at the end of Patch Apple. The gesture had sent a thrill of adoration through Scootaloo's chest, and she had to resist the urge to simply snare the mare and kiss her full on the mouth. Instead she had contented herself with simply snuggling deeper into her side under the guise of lending additional emotional support to Sweetie Belle.

That had been almost three hours ago. The other three fillies had fallen asleep leaving Scootaloo alone with her thoughts. She'd rather they hadn't. Her thoughts were singularly concerning, and she was wavering between reveling in them and desperately trying to silence them. For the thousandth time that evening, she looked to her left and stared at the side of the sofa. Silver Spoon's hoof was dangling off the edge of the cushion, the finely hooficured tip barely touching the floor between the couch and Scootaloo's mattress.

Touch it.

Scootaloo scowled at the pushy little voice in her head. What in the world was that supposed to mean? "Touch it"? What was the point in that? It wasn't like it was a particularly intimate gesture, especially not considering they'd just spent the last several hours curled up, body to body on the couch. Her wings twitched anxiously at the memory.

You know what I mean. Hold her hoof. You know you want to.

Yes, she did want to, Scootaloo had to admit. For all the physical contact of the ponypile on the sofa, it had been a fully platonic experience. Holding another pony's hoof was a different matter, though. There was an inherent intimacy in that, in the romance of acknowledging one's affection in such an obvious way. The problem, Scootaloo knew, was that it was also an unmistakeably flirtatious gesture. If Silver Spoon woke up and felt Scootaloo's hoof wrapped around her own...Scootaloo wasn't sure what her response would be, but she was fairly certain it wouldn't be pleasant. At the very least, their brand new friendship would be in jeopardy--maybe worse. And yet...

In truth, Scootaloo had to wonder if Silver Spoon suspected anything. Scootaloo had never exactly been shy about play-flirting with her friends; of the three, she was the most outgoing and immodest. It was all in fun among the Crusaders, but she had turned that same 'come-hither' attitude on the newest member of the group without a second thought. Of course, the smoldering stare she'd given Silver Spoon had had genuine desire lacing it, but Silver Spoon didn't have to know that. Even so, the silver mare might well have assumed Scootaloo's playful flirting was serious. In any other case, that would have been perfectly fine, even beneficial, but to a skittish, awkward, and presumably heterosexual mare it was probably an unwelcome gesture.

This point brought Scootaloo back to the opportunity hanging in the moonlight in front of her nose now. A twinge of longing twisted her midsection. She didn't want to risk making Silver Spoon any more uncomfortable than she already must have, but the rush of adrenaline pounding in her ears was daring her to make a stupid decision, and she was losing the will to resist. Unbidden, her hoof slowly snaked its way out from beneath the covers, casually settling to the floor just millimeters from the silver hoof. Don't do it, she chided herself. It's not worth it. The warning went ignored. Their hooves touched.

Scootaloo's heart skipped a beat, and she glanced up at Silver Spoon's face, relaxed and smiling faintly in her sleep. The filly had removed her glasses and her braid right before the group had settled down for the night. Her mane fell untidily across her muzzle, and the hair fluttered lightly every time she exhaled. She wrinkled her nose as a rogue hair tickled the sensitive flesh. Scootaloo's heart ached. She was just so bucking cute, and it was killing the pegasus to watch her sleep, physically only inches away, but unreachable in the only way Scootaloo desperately wanted her. She struggled with herself only a moment longer before slowly, anxiously sliding her hoof up and into the crook of Silver Spoon's, curling it around the pastern and squeezing gently.

A thrill of panic fluttered through her midsection as she stared up at Silver Spoon's face, utterly certain the silver filly was about to open her eyes and stare down at her in alarm and indignation. Instead, her face remained passive. The smile may even have broadened a little at the touch. Scootaloo stifled a foalish giggle. I'm holding hooves with Silver Spoon. She grinned at their intertwined extremities and squeezed again, gaining confidence from her success. This time, Silver Spoon reacted, heaving a shallow sigh and wrinkling her nose again before subtly squeezing back.

For one heart stopping moment, Scootaloo thought Silver Spoon must have awakened. She was about to pull away in panic before she glanced up at Silver Spoon's face again and realized that the filly was still deep in slumber, her breaths slow and even, her expression peaceful. Scootaloo exhaled and settled back into her mattress, contentedly watching Silver Spoon sleep and simply enjoying the--admittedly minor--affectionate embrace. Guilt and longing pulled at her in equal measure as she absently squeezed the other filly's hoof. She sincerely wanted nothing more than to climb up onto the sofa, lie behind her and wrap her forelegs around her shoulders. She wanted to hold her close, to protect her from the ravages of a careless world, one that she herself had recently been a part of. She wanted to kiss Silver Spoon's cheek and nibble her ear, listen to her giggle and watch her cheeks grow red. She wanted to drift off to sleep feeling Silver Spoon's chest rising and falling in the gentle, regular rhythm of contentment.

More than any of those things, though, Scootaloo wanted to be the reason for the smile on Silver Spoon's muzzle. She wanted to be the mare flitting through Silver Spoon's dreams, invading her imagination at inopportune moments, bringing a blush to her cheeks in the small hours of the night. Scootaloo let her mind wander, pondering what it might be like to be Silver Spoon's fillyfriend. She settled on a fantasy of walking through town with Silver Spoon, their tails tightly entwined and their flanks playfully bumping together. She smiled and closed her eyes, imagining giving Silver Spoon a flirty grin and telling her a silly joke, just to get the silver mare to laugh and let her carefully erected guard down. In her mind's eye, she nuzzled her fillyfriend gently, running their cheeks together and losing herself in the thick, lustrous curls of Silver Spoon's mane. She nipped lightly at the other mare's ear, relishing the tiny squeaks of embarrassed pleasure the attention elicited. She imagined taking deep, hungry breaths through her nose, Silver Spoon's tantalizingly sweet, subtle scent flooding her head and sending her into a frenzy with only one remedy.

Suddenly, Scootaloo realized she'd taken the fantasy too far, and the idle pleasure of imaginary sensations had had very real consequences. Already, her wings were straining against the mattress beneath her, the muscles and tendons tight and twitching as they trembled against the air inside the bed. Her nether lips, already warm and lightly moist from their earlier cuddling, were now searing against her inner thighs, the slow drip of her juices seeping through her fur and pooling beneath her tail. The warmth trickled around her pucker, tickling deliciously as it did so. The heat coursing through her pulsed with her heartbeat, which quickened with each deep, mind-numbing stab of adrenaline that her fantasy had caused.

Scootaloo gritted her teeth with some frustration; if she thought she'd been having trouble sleeping before, it was almost out of the question now. An aroused pegasus was likely to stay that way unless something was done, and Scootaloo knew there was no way she could covertly...tend to her needs here in the living room. Compounding the issue was the fact that the object of her affection was sleeping less than three hooves away, grunting quietly as she breathed. Scootaloo glanced up at the sofa and felt another jolt of longing arc through her midsection. She stared at Silver Spoon's muzzle, hypnotized, wondering what it must be like to kiss it, to feel the shy filly's lips tentatively pressing back against hers, nervous but enthusiastic all the same. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought, and her clitoris twitched eagerly in response. Against her better judgment, the pegasus submitted to her baser urges and slowly slid a hoof down under the sheets, slipping it between her thighs, which parted reflexively to admit her.

It took every ounce of Scootaloo's self-control not to moan out loud as she reached her clit and gently stroked it, sending an almost painful shock of pleasure and arousal through her belly. She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut as she rubbed her hoof back and forth across the firm little nub, which twitched and winked as she tended to it. Her whole body began to quake as waves of erotic thrill washed over her, and she reluctantly released her hold on Silver Spoon's hoof, lest she accidentally awaken the sleeping mare. Narrowly managing to forestall a second moan of ecstasy, Scootaloo realized that finishing her solo adventure here, surrounded by her friends, was not a good idea. With even greater reticence than she'd let go of Silver Spoon, she pulled her moistened hoof out from between her legs and slowly, carefully extracted herself from beneath the blankets. Freed from their prison, her wings stretched to their full span, quivering anxiously in the darkness above her back as she shakily tip-hoofed around the mattresses strewn across the floor, pointedly avoiding looking down at the sleeping Crusaders on them and picking her way out into the hallway as quietly as she could.

She clamped her tail down against her backside to stop herself from dripping as she trotted back to her bedroom, causing her to shiver lightly with each reflexive wink of her clitoris as it flicked against the coarse hair, little chills of anxious pleasure radiating from it at each touch. She kicked the door closed behind her, then winced as it slammed with a touch more force than she'd intended, the heavy thud of wood on wood echoing down the hallway. Heart pounding in her throat, she stood stock-still, straining at the bounds of her finely tuned hearing for any indication that she'd roused anypony. After a minute or so of silence, Scootaloo breathed a sigh of relief and made her way over to her bed. Her hoof was already back between her legs, lightly caressing the sensitive flesh there and forcing her to walk with a slightly awkward three-legged gait until she reached the edge of the mattress and climbed up on it. With a final cursory glance at the door to verify it was closed, she rolled over onto her back, spreading her wings and her hind legs wide across the comforter, exposing her sopping marehood to the cool evening air.

Silver Spoon's eyes snapped open. Her first thought was the purest of confusion. She had no idea where she was, or what time, or what had awakened her. The answers came in the same order as the questions. The quiet squeaking of Sweetie Belle dozing on the floor immediately reminded her that she was in Scootaloo's house, and the thick darkness, punctuated only by the myriad of lights dotting the entertainment center across the room indicated it was still the dead of night. As to the cause of her consciousness, she couldn't be sure. Something in her memory suggested that she'd heard a loud, somewhat concerning crash. Curious and a bit worried, she looked down at Scootaloo's mattress, to see if the pegasus' superior senses had heard anything unusual.

The mattress was empty.

Ah. So Scootaloo had caused the sound. Silver Spoon settled back into the sofa, the unease fading. The pegasus must have gotten up to go to the bathroom. Lying in the darkness, Silver Spoon suddenly realized that going to the bathroom sounded like a magnificent idea. The pressure in her bladder was immediately persistent and distressing. Unfortunately, she knew, the house only had two bathrooms, and one of them was in the master bedroom. The other was currently occupied.

Silver Spoon clenched her teeth anxiously. She would just have to wait for Scootaloo to come back. It wouldn't do to wait outside the door, since there were few things quite as blood-freezing as opening a door in the middle of the night and finding somepony behind it. And as hilarious as it might have been to give Scootaloo a heart attack, she suspected the pegasus would either react violently or scream, and neither result would be a good thing. Instead, she simply lay on the sofa and stared at the ceiling, keeping her ears pricked for the sounds of the door opening and Scootaloo coming back down the hall.

Several minutes later, the pegasus still hadn't returned. Silver Spoon pursed her lips. The pressure was reaching a breaking point; soon she would actually have to face the prospect of knocking on the bathroom door and asking Scootaloo if she might possibly be able to hurry up. It was not a pleasant notion, but Silver Spoon knew she might not have a choice. Well, not a good choice, anyway. She knew some earth ponies didn't have any qualms about simply going out into their backyards and urinating there, but Silver Spoon would gladly have risked using the master bathroom right under Scootaloo's parents' noses before she would deign to pee outside. The very idea was mortifying, and she blushed reflexively at the image. No, she would simply have to suck it up and knock.

Silver Spoon sighed heavily and threw the blankets aside. She rolled off the sofa as quietly as she could, landing lightly on her hooves and tip-hoofing out of the living room. The first thing she noticed, with some confusion, was that the bathroom door was open. The urgency of her needs rendered this a positive, if unexpected development, and she hastened into the bathroom to make use of it. A minute or so later, she emerged with a sigh of relief, and the mystery of Scootaloo's whereabouts presented itself again, only to be almost immediately solved. Scootaloo's bedroom door was closed, an anomaly in the Scratch-Philharmonica household. Apparently the pegasus had had some trouble sleeping in the living room with the rest of the group and had decided to retreat to her bedroom for the rest of the night.

The disappointment sinking into her stomach at the realization surprised Silver Spoon. She hadn't really thought about it before, but somehow the idea of sleeping in the living room, surrounded by her new friends, and especially just a few hooves from her newly-appointed 'best friend' Scootaloo had taken hold of her in a strangely pleasant way. It was so different from sleepovers with Diamond Tiara, who usually insisted on a rigid bedtime, no talking after the lights were out, and became generally unpleasant after a certain time at night. This was not the case with the Crusaders. Even after the lights were out and everypony had curled up under their covers, the conversation had continued for another hour or so at least, and when her eyes had finally drifted closed for the night, they did so in a comforting haze of acceptance and friendship. She'd never slept so well in her life.

A small part of her recognized that Scootaloo was the primary source of that comfort. Just having the pegasus nearby made everything seem brighter, more meaningful, more pleasant. Jokes were funnier when they were followed by Scootaloo's distinctive barking laugh. Compliments were more poignant in the pegasus' smooth, genuine tone. And her smile...

Silver Spoon shook her head, dispelling the image of Scootaloo's strangely bewitching smirk. She had to admit that Scootaloo's confidence in her own attractiveness had a lot of merit to it. She wasn't classically beautiful, exactly. She was no Rarity or Sweetie Belle, but she was strangely alluring all the same. Her body was fit and muscular, not bulky like most earth ponies, but toned and firm. Her fur shined and her feathers shimmered as she moved, the smooth, even pattern of the overlapping shafts strangely fascinating all on its own. Even her mane, unkempt and scruffy as it was, held a certain charm of its own.

She shook her head again, miffed at her inability to keep the raffish pegasus out of her mind's eye. There was nothing to be gained from such thoughts. Fortunately, her musings were suddenly interrupted by a disconcerting noise coming from inside Scootaloo's bedroom. It started quietly, a low, repetitive grunting sound. Curious, Silver Spoon tentatively pressed an ear to the closed door. It was unlike any sound she'd ever heard before. It almost sounded to her as though Scootaloo might be in trouble, almost as though she were having trouble breathing. Suddenly panicked, Silver Spoon pulled away and stared at the door, wondering whether she should open it and check on the pegasus. It wouldn't be right to intrude on somepony's privacy unless there was a serious emergency.

Still, that noise...it was louder now, more insistent. If there was something wrong, it was getting worse. Silver Spoon gritted her teeth, torn. Finally, she decided. She would check. Silently, of course. She would carefully, quietly open the door, make sure nothing was wrong, and if everything was fine and the sound turned out to be Scootaloo snoring or something, she would close the door, go back to the living room, and go back to sleep.

Nodding in satisfaction with her plan, Silver Spoon gently leaned on the handle and pushed the door open a crack, poking her head around the door just enough to see the room beyond.

The moon was unusually bright tonight, and it shined serenely through the uncovered window, casting a pearlescent glow across the bed. Lying in the shaft of light, Scootaloo stared down at her own privates, examining them, mesmerized by how the moon reflected in the thin coating of her own juices. She watched herself winking, each flick of the little nub nestled in the folds at the top of her slit sending a tiny arc of equal parts pleasure and stifling desire rolling through her belly. She blushed, shamefully excited at the sight of her own arousal. Her spreadeagle pose had allowed her scent to permeate the room, and she took a deep breath, nostrils flaring as she sheepishly relished the intoxicating odor. It was thick and almost primal, the smell of sex and furious, unrelenting need. It clouded her mind and drove all other thoughts from her head. Somewhere deep in the back of her mind, she knew it had to be wrong to find her own scent so deliciously erotic, but she couldn't help it. The sultry tang screamed arousal, it spoke to something dark and feral and she drank it in, even bringing her moistened hoof up to her muzzle and taking a long draught of the secretions darkening her fur.

Scootaloo's flanks twitched at the smell. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she groaned as the ache of desire pressed in on her, bringing every thought back to the heat between her legs. Delirious, she brought Silver Spoon back to mind and imagined the aroma was Silver's instead of her own. She imagined lying here on the bed with her, their bodies pressed together, their muzzles buried in one another's manes. She took a deep breath and Silver Spoon's scent invaded her muzzle. She exhaled, a long, low sigh of pleasure.

Scootaloo hungrily dove deeper in the fantasy, wrapping her free hoof around Silver Spoon's withers and holding her close, clinging fiercely to the other mare. She imagined massaging not her own nethers, but her fillyfriend's. Her mind's eye watched the silver fur part beneath her eagerly probing hoof, revealing the stark pink of the forbidden fruits behind it. Her stomach lurched and her head spun with pleasure as she masturbated, rolling on to her side now and lifting one leg high into the air to allow herself to dig deeper into her own crotch. The fur around her vulva was soaking wet, the ministrations drawing a steady stream of fluid dripping out from between her swollen lips, running in thin rivulets down the back of her thigh.

"Mmmph...Silver Spoon..." The words came unbidden to her lips, but she spoke them nonetheless, her heart pounding as she whispered to the imaginary mare next to her. "Buck, you are so...so beautiful..." Her voice shook. The dream Silver Spoon blushed deeply at the praise and moved forward to kiss her. Scootaloo closed her eyes and let the fantasy play. Silver Spoon's lips met hers, and immediately parted. Her hot, wet tongue probed tentatively around Scootaloo's lips, and the pegasus subconsciously stuck her tongue out in response. A moan welled up deep in her chest as Silver Spoon's hoof took the place of hers between the pegasus' legs, and she gasped as the strokes doubled in speed and force. Their muzzles parted, and she groaned into the dark silence of her room. "Oh, Luna...yeah, right there...that's--ah!" She gasped again as her hoof spread her vulva, stretching the flesh with a delicious tugging sensation and digging the tip into her dripping tunnel.

"Oooohhh..." she groaned, her voice tight and straining to escape as she panted. "There! Right there! Oh, Luna, Spoon, don't...don't stop!" She groaned and rolled over onto her belly, digging both hooves between her legs now, using one hoof to open her marehood and anxiously rubbing the other across the length of her slit, the tip dragging deliciously across the sensitive flesh and teasing her flexing tunnel, which twitched and shivered as it pulled at nothing, desperate to be filled. The hoof holding her lips open quivered against her erect clitoris, winking faster now as she felt the tightness of release building deep in her belly.

Waves of pleasure radiated through her, clenching the muscles of her vagina and shivering through her thighs as she struggled to stay on her knees. Juices flowed down both of her hooves, soaking into the fur all the way to her pasterns and dripping down onto the bed beneath her. She ignored it, lost in the fantasy. She grunted with each forceful stroke, biting down on the sheets in front of her muzzle to muffle her own vocalizations as she dug deep in her crotch, the strength of her movements forcing her nose into the bedspread. Her wings twitched and flexed in the darkness above her, and she could feel the orgasm building in them as well as in her loins.

Suddenly, Scootaloo's breath caught in her chest and she clenched her teeth hard on the fabric in her mouth as she teetered on the brink of climax for several seconds, one hooftip buried in her tunnel, the muscles squeezing and pulling at it as the other hoof furiously worked at her clitoris, struggling to push past the summit and start the delirious plummet into orgasm. "Come on, come on...just...uhn...right...oh, yes...yes, S-...S-Silver Spoon!" The cry was muffled by the blankets in her teeth, but she heard it clearly just the same. The sound of the name echoed in her ears, and she came hard, moaning over and over, gasping for breath as the explosion of pleasure tore through her body. Her vagina quaked and flexed, making a lewd squelching sound as she felt her juices flowing freely, pooling and squirting out of her slit as the walls tightened around her hoof. The marecum splashed across her hoof and fell to the carpet with a quiet pattering sound again and again as she came.

Pleasure seared through her clitoris, winking fiercely against her hoof, the sensations so intense that she dared not move her hoof, lest she push past pleasure and find her way into pain. Her legs shook and her wings tugged at her shoulders, the feathers fanning out and shivering as she came, the arousal trapped in every tightly coiled muscle releasing at once, flooding her limbs with waves of ecstasy that threatened to collapse her to the sheets. Then she did collapse, falling heavily to her belly on the bed, her forelegs trapped under her chest as her rear legs slid out to the side, leaving her spreadeagled on the comforter, her tired, swollen marehood lewdly presented to the door as her tail stayed flagged, the long hair tickling her back and her loins as it waved lazily through the air. She panted loudly, struggling to catch her breath as her wings slowly started to fold again, settling back against her shoulders. Buck, she thought, yeah, it's gonna have to be Silver Spoon from now on.

Silver Spoon stared at the opposite wall of the hallway, heart racing and eyes wide with horror.

Why didn't you just shut the door?

Why did I even open it in the first place?

Yes, but why didn't you shut it as soon as you saw what was happening?

I didn't know! I wasn't sure!

You knew. You knew as soon as you looked. Why else would she have her legs open like that? Why else would she have a hoof in her crotch? Why else--

Shut up, shut up, shut up! Silver Spoon pressed her hooves to her temples, desperately trying to silence the accusing voice echoing in her head. It was right, of course. She'd known instantly what was happening as soon as she'd opened the door. Scootaloo had already been lying on her back on the bed, legs spread wide, one hoof between them and the other stroking the fur of her side as she massaged the swollen folds of her marehood. She had expected her immediate reaction to be one of shock and mortification. She'd expected to slam the door closed, or cry out in surprise, or at least avert her eyes. None of these things had happened.

Instead, she'd watched. She'd watched with intense and wretched fascination as Scootaloo masturbated. She'd watched the pegasus' hoof sliding across the brilliant pink folds of her genitals. She'd watched the slow drip of Scootaloo's juices trickling down between her firm, taut flanks. She'd watched the other mare's anus twitch and glisten in the moonlight, moistened by the fluids flowing down from above. She'd watched all of this and worse, she'd done so intentionally, staying still and silent so as not to interrupt, but making no effort to retreat from the sight. It wasn't until the pegasus had finally hoofed herself to climax and settled into the bedclothes in the afterglow that Silver Spoon had managed to regain control of herself long enough to silently pull the door shut again and escape to the hallway.

Then, that moment. It was burned into her memory. It was frozen in time, replaying itself over and over as though daring her to try and deny it had happened. Scootaloo had said her name. More than that, she'd moaned it in the heat of passion. Her voice had shaken and cracked, and her breath had come in short gasps around it. It had been the crowning moment, the instant of release. She had been that crowning moment. What did it mean?

Of course, it meant so many things, all of them terrible in their own unique way. It meant firstly that all the rumors were true: Scootaloo was, at least in her own private fantasies, a lesbian. This wasn't terribly surprising. The rumors hadn't needed anypony to start them, no matter what Diamond Tiara liked to claim. They'd just grown organically from Scootaloo's personality, her interaction with Rainbow Dash--a well-known bisexual--and her intense and curious friendship with the other Crusaders. It made sense to keep it a secret, Silver Spoon understood. Some cities were famous for the variety of their population's sexuality and proud of it, but Ponyville was not one of them. Ponyville was an earth pony settlement, and the few homosexual couples that had settled there were so unusual that they became famous by virtue of their novelty, for good and ill...

It was the 'ill' that made the second implication severely concerning to Silver Spoon. Scootaloo was sexually attracted--for whatever bizarre reason--to Silver Spoon. The shy, awkward romantic in her was giddy to realize that she was that attractive to anypony, even Scootaloo. A much larger and more vocal part of her was utterly mortified by the thought. How long had Scootaloo been interested? How long had Scootaloo been clopping to fantasies involving her?

What if that was the only reason Scootaloo had befriended her in the first place?

Her stomach lurched sickeningly and her ears drooped back on her head. Another trap. Another plot. Another contrived excuse for somepony to pretend to care about her. Diamond Tiara had always kept her around just to be a flunky and a punching bag. Now Scootaloo wanted her around to ogle at and masturbate to. She squeezed her eyes shut against tears of frustration and betrayal. Why? Why does it always have to be like this? Why can't anypony just want to be friends with me?

Her breath caught in her throat and she swallowed the sob before it could escape and incriminate her. She suddenly remembered she was sitting in the hallway outside Scootaloo's room. A flash of panic pushed her to her hooves. If Scootaloo had just come back to her room to...satisfy herself...then she'd probably be back in the living room before long. Silver Spoon was not interested in finding out what would happen if Scootaloo came out and found her sitting here in the hall.

Silver Spoon retraced her steps back to the living room, and she stopped in the doorway to examine the layout of the mattresses on the floor and plan her route. Her stomach suddenly vanished as her gaze fell on Apple Bloom's cascading crimson mane and she realized there was an even more urgent problem to consider.

Do the other Crusaders know?

Silver Spoon wasn't sure what the implications of Scootaloo's friends knowing she had a...crush...on their newest friend could be. She was positive they couldn't be good. They might even be in on the plan, acting as ambassadors of friendship to make the whole facade seem more legitimate and drawing Silver Spoon deeper into the fold for Scootaloo's enjoyment.

Crushed, Silver Spoon slowly made her way back to the sofa and climbed back between the sheets. She wouldn't be able to fall back asleep, she knew. Not now. Still, it wouldn't do for Scootaloo to realize she'd ever been awake to begin with. She tried to remember how she must have looked when Scootaloo had left. She rearranged her body and limbs to mimic her original posture, including having one hoof hanging over the edge of the cushion and resting on the floor. Her mind was racing. So many thoughts and feelings, both horrible and inexplicably pleasant, were flitting through her head, none of them sticking for more than a moment. Scootaloo's crimson folds, however, glistening and intensely vivid in the bright moonlight, were seared into her imagination.

She was so wet...

Silver Spoon squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shut out the thought. It didn't work.

She even squirted. She was squirting marecum all over the--

Silver Spoon bit her lip hard. The pain interrupted the thought process, and she forced herself down another path. What would she do now? She knew too much. She couldn't forget it now. Scootaloo clearly had a crush on her--had for a while, if some of her recent comments and actions meant anything--and the implications were almost painful to consider. What if Scootaloo found out she knew? Worse, what if Scootaloo told her? What if Scootaloo was hoping she felt the same way?

Do I?

Of course not. She knew that much for sure. There mere thought of another mare's genitals--

--glistening and dripping and hot and tight--

--was not appealing in the least. Not even Scootaloo's. Especially not Scootaloo's.

She likes you. She would do that to you, if you--

Silver Spoon tried to shut out the obnoxious train of thought. She would simply have to try to fall asleep. Shut out the images and the sounds, ignore her misgivings and reevaluate the evening's revelations in the light of day.

Or maybe she would wake up and realize it had all been an awful nightmare.

Yeah...much better.

Scootaloo smiled weakly and sighed as she shakily struggled back to her hooves and climbed down off the bed. A serene sort of warmth flooded through her body, and the smile tugging at her lips widened at the thought of going back out to the living room and laying back down next to Silver Spoon. Well, nearby, anyway. Still, it was close enough to elicit a giddy giggle from the pegasus. She quietly pulled her bedroom door open and trotted back out to the living room. The pushy little voice inside her head suggested that she could probably get away with a quick peck on Silver Spoon's cheek if she could just muster the courage to do it, but fortunately her rational mind managed to kibosh the idea almost immediately.

The pegasus quietly slipped back between the sheet of her bed and settled into the mattress, the pleasant warmth still ebbing between her legs even as the moisture in her fur chilled her skin. Suddenly exhausted, she cast a fleeting glance back at the sofa, smiling at Silver Spoon's dozing face.

For an instant, she thought she might have seen the other filly's eyelids fluttering, but after several more seconds passed without further movement, she relaxed, convinced it was simply a trick of the light. Scootaloo's eyes slowly slid back down to Silver Spoon's hoof. It was still within reach. With a silly grin, Scootaloo reached out and took hold of it again.

The pleasure of the contact returned instantly. The sexual thrill was much less intense now, but the affection had multiplied in its absence. Scootaloo's stomach flipped as she gripped Silver Spoon's hoof, the tightness of longing still pulling at her. If only...she sighed sadly. It was impossible. She knew that. Still...she could enjoy it while it lasted, she decided. She and Silver Spoon might never have the chance to be together like she wanted them to, but at the very least she could enjoy what time they had. Hopefully she could do it without letting Silver Spoon know; the last thing she wanted was to upset the skittish filly by coming on too strong.

With one final gentle squeeze, Scootaloo slowly let go of Silver Spoon and let her hoof drift to the floor, where it rested lightly against Silver Spoon's, still providing some level of contact but without the incriminating grip. With one final yawn, she snuggled deep into her blankets and drifted off to sleep.

A quiet sniff from the sofa was lost in the ambiance of the night.

Author's Notes:

This chapter, as the ones before, has been massively edited and improved by the tireless efforts of my prereaders, Sharp Spark, MrBackpack, and Quill Trace.