=Aces High 15=

Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KiUWhwKjcnY


“Ahg, dammit.”
>You hold your face under the water streaming from the showerhead and wash the errant soap out of your eyes, rubbing away any it doesn’t get.
>Behind you, out of sight, Soarin’ washes himself off as well.
>Streak had long come and gone so it was just the two of you trying not to be awkward around each other.
>It wasn’t the fact that you were two guys standing naked in a shower while water washed over your toned, Olympian bodies, you’d been on the team long enough that any discomfort about that had long since passed.
>This awkwardness was because you’d been dodging Soarin’s inquisitive stares after Spitfire smacked your ass at the end of practice today.
>Ever since that night, you’d kept things on the DL as best as you could, but today was the first team practice you and Spitfire had had since sleeping together.
>You hadn’t talked over with Spitfire at all about even if you –should- tell the rest of the team so you’d kept your mouth shut.
>But it was getting harder to do that.
>”So…Anonymous.” Soarin says.
“Yeah Soar?”
>Keep it casual.

>”Good practice today.”
“You think? I thought I was a bit sloppy on my turns.”
>”Nah, you were good. You and Spitfire both.”
“Yeah, she told me she’d been practicing.”
>You scrub harder.
>”…You and Spitfire seemed like you were really pushing it.”
>Fuckingshit.
“Yeah, well, she’s lead flyer. I go where she says.”
>”Mmm. You two been getting extra practice in after hours?”
>Shit, does he know?
“Uhhh…yeah, we talked that night at the club and hit up the track the next day, worked on some new moves.”
>”Yeah I’ll bet.”
“What’s that mean?”
>”I dunno. You tell me?”
>Shitshit.
>You reach forward and turn off the water, grabbing your towel and walking back to your locker.
“Nothing to really tell, Soarin.”
>Soarin follows soon after and the two of you change into your street clothes.
>This was good. If you could just keep him in the dark until you could talk to Spitfire, you could sort this out.
>You and Soarin walk from the lockers out to the common area and-
>”-nd you’d think that because he’s so much different than a pony, it’d be all weird, right? But no way! It was sorta like one of those weird clams from the…market…” Spitfire is in the process of saying as she slowly turns to look at the two of you, her hooves several inches apart from one another.
>You’d say something, but your mouth doesn’t work. Luckily Soarin’ covers for you.
>”Nothing to tell”, huh Anon?”

“Oh Christ, here we go.” You get out.
>”Wait wait wait wait.” Misty says, rubbing her head. “You’re telling me you two are RUTTING?”
>Spitfire holds up a hoof. ”Rutted, Misty! Singular. Only the one time…so far~.” She says with a wink.
>”Damn Anon, I didn’t know you had that kinda play.”
>You rub your forehead.
“Yeah, sure, thanks Streaker.”
>Why does he sound so sur-damn-prised?
>”Oh sure he is! Get him to tell you about the Prench model, why dontcha?” Spitfire says.
>Fleetfoot simply reclines in her chair and chuckles. “Lifestyles of of the rich and famous, eh Anonmous?”
“Yeahsuresomethinglikethat.”
>Soarin walks past you to the rest of the team. “Fancy is going to freak when he finds out.”
“He’s not –going- to find out if I can help it.”
>This makes Spitfire whirl around in her seat to face you, eyebrow cocked. “Why not?”
>You point at Soain’.
“Because, like he said, he’ll freak? Probably.”
>”Two of his star racers are doing it, this is either a PR blessing or a performance nightmare.” Soarin’ adds.
>Spitfire crosses her legs and turns her nose up at you. “You’re just ashamed of me, hmph!”
“Oh don’t be a diva.”
>”I’m not! You hurt my womanly feelings.”
“Both of them?”
>”Low blow.”
“You were spilling info about my dong, I can go as low as I want.”
>Fleetfoot guffaws in her chair. “Listen to you two! You sound like my parents.”
>Spirfit smirks. “I bet he aint even buy a ring yet.”
>Fire Streak stands up and grabs his bag. “Anyone care to continue this informative and hilarious line of thought at Five ‘Quines?”
>”I’m down for some burgers and fries.”
>”Same.”
>”Count me in!”
>You walk past the team towards the door to the balcony. 
“I’ll catch up.”
>Times like this, you needed some air.

>You push out the glass door onto the balcony of the training center and take a deep breath. You drink rich the scent of the city before you, the clouds, even the trees on the mountain before you release it all in an explosive sigh.
“Gooooood dammit.”
>”I dunno about your human or whatever god, but I’m willing to bet they can’t help you here.”
>You look over your shoulder, Soarin walks out the door and joins you on the balcony.
“Hey…” you say with a sigh.
>”Hey.”
>A long silence passes between you both.
>”So the team captain, huh? Are you gonna move up to Fancy next or try and work your way through the team.”
“Oh come on, Soar.”
>He walks over to the railing next to you and rests his head in his hoof, whimsically playing with his other hoof. “Because I just don’t think I can be with someone like that without getting to know them, you know?”
“Uhg, look, I get it, you’re irritated at me.”
>Soarin looks over at you.
>“Irritated? Me? That my best friend and oldest friend are screwing and one was going to keep it a secret from me? That’s just silly, Anon.”
“Yeah, well, I’m sorry. Can you blame me?”
>”Could. Won’t. That’d make me an asshole.”
“Yeah it would.”

>”And ethics aside, you have enough assholes to worry about.”
“Ethics? What ethics?”
>”Ethics like it Spits likes you then she might go easy on you, dunderhead. She’s supposed to be an impartial figure.”
“Yeah yeah…” you nod.
>”I’m just saying it’s a slippery slope, Anon. You gotta be careful in this line of work. More than a few ‘Bolts in the past have been done in by their sex life.”
>You drag your hand down your face. 
“I’ve barely even thought about the worst part…”
>”That being?”
“What if Dash finds out?”
>Soarin’ winces for his friend. “She’d…be pissed.” He says.
“She’d be REALLY pissed because on top of breaking up with her and stealing her dream job, I’m railing her idol.”
>”What is even her deal? That’s not normal behavior.”
“She hates losing. A lot.”
>Like a LOT a lot.

>Someone tapping on the window behind the both of you draws your attention away.
>Spitfire leans out of the balcony door. “Hey, are you two gonna hurry up and kiss already? Because if not I can take my bits and go stuff them down somepony else’s pants.”
>Soarin’ immediately gets into form.
>”Ho no, I graduated college, I don’t have to do that no more.”
>”B-but my money! It’s good!”
>”Take it elsewhere, harlot!” Soarin’ teases.
>Spitfire chuckles and holds the door open. “But for serious, come on guys! We’re all gonna go get some grub and it’s not a team without you two.”
>”Sure you want a third, fourth, fifth, and sixth wheel on your daaaaaaate~?”
>Spitfire cradles Soarin’s jaw. “Oh Soarin’ the Borein’, you’ll always be my number…seven? Yeah. Number seven guy.”
>Soarin’ chuckles and walks past Spitfire leaving just you and Spitfire.
>”Sup, loverboy? You two get your real talk taken care of? Jokin’ aside, looked sorta heavy.”
>Do you tell her about the ethics violations? Do you tell her about your concerns? Do you tell her that Rainbow Dash will be at at least once of the the upcoming races and to cut back on the ass slaps so she doesn’t see?
>Nope.
“It’s nothing worth worrying about, not with a race on the horizon. We gotta work on our technical skills of we’re gonna beat those fuckers.”
>Spitfire laughs after a brief silence and heads in. “HA! We’ll floor ‘em, Anny.”
>You throw your bag over your shoulder and follow the rest of your team on autopilot, lost in thought.
>Concerns aside, the best thing you could do right now is focus on the team and your job in it, you reckon.
>For as long as you can, anyway.