Autumn Fluff

Personal Grooming

Gallus breathed in a deep, relaxed breath as he woke from his nap. He could feel warm rays of sunlight on his wings and face, contrasting with the occasional almost-cool breeze. He could smell the salty, earthy smell of his pony, and he felt a gentle stroking motion along his haunches. The movement repeated, shifting slightly to one side. Gallus rubbed a claw across his eyes, rustling the crusty bits of sleep from the edges. "What're you doing?" he asked groggily.

"Oh, hey, sleepy head," Sandbar said, giving him a quick nuzzle. Gallus pecked his husband on the cheek, relishing the soft feel of the pony's short fur. "I know I've got a lot to learn about preening still," the earth pony continued, "but I know plenty about fur maintenance, so I thought I'd give you a quick brushing while you slept."

"You saying I need to groom myself more often?"

"Wh-what?" Sandbar replied, a look of panic entering his features. "N-no! I was j-just..."

"I'm kidding, hubby," the griffon said, laying a claw on the pony's head and ruffling his mane. Sandbar visibly relaxed and blew out a shaky breath. Gallus leaned his head down and nuzzled into the pony's fluffy chest. Sandbar's fur got thicker in the fall—not enough to be puffy, but enough that it created some deliciously soft spots the griffon had come to adore. After remarking on it when it first appeared, Gallus had learned that Sandbar was self-conscious about the extra fuzz—apparently it was an anomaly among most earth ponies. And while he was usually willing to indulge his newlywed husband's idiosyncratic qualms, when the griffon balanced that desire against his desire to bury his beak into earth pony stallion fluff, the fluff was always going to win.

Sandbar continued brushing, and Gallus ran one claw down the backside of the stallion's foreleg. The seafoam green hair just above the hoof had grown longer as the days shortened. Gallus watched happily as the long strands fell through his talons.

"That tickles," Sandbar muttered softly. The brushing movements shifted to the griffon's thigh.

Gallus chuckled quietly, "So does that, but you don't hear me complaining."

The griffon felt Sandbar kiss the back of his neck. "Didn't say I was complaining." Gallus moved his claw again, placing it at the base of the pony's hoof, one talon gently massaging the fleshy frog. Sandbar shivered in the griffon's touch, and the brush stopped moving for a moment. Gallus grinned and let his claw drag upward, teasing the hair on the pony's fetlock and leg. The griffon moved slowly, letting his talons trace the cords of muscle that worked their way up the stallion's form. Sandbar wasn't huge or overly muscular, but he was sturdy. Gallus liked that about his husband, just as much as he enjoyed the soft parts of his pony, too.

And then his claw reached the pièce de résistance: the delightfully soft patch of extra fuzz at the bottom of Sandbar's neck that was currently serving as the griffon's pillow. It started, oh so subtly, in a V shape, stretching from either side of the stallion's jaw down to the supple flesh where neck melded into chest. And there, at the point of the V, was the fluffiest, downiest patch of fur Gallus had ever encountered. He was pretty certain he had lain on clouds that were rougher.

Gallus lay there for several minutes, his beak in his personal pony cloud, soft fuzz tickling his face, enjoying the gentle stroking along his back and leg. That, combined with the blissful autumnal weather—cool and warm, in just the right measure—was almost enough to put the griffon back to sleep. He felt his eyes begin to close, the rocking motion of the pony's chest as he breathed coaxing him to sleep. Just before he felt himself slip into unconsciousness, Gallus shook himself awake. He had just figured out the perfect way to complete Professor Rarity's Generosity homework assignment. The griffon reached back with a claw and plucked the brush out of Sandbar's hoof. The griffon grudgingly gave up his fuzzy pillow and began stroking it with the brush.

Sandbar blushed deeply. "I can groom myself, you know." He turned his head to the side, but made no move to stop Gallus.

Gallus laughed and shook his head. "Hush," he commanded. "It's homework." He pulled the brush through the thick hair, enjoying the way the pale green fluff separated and then fell back together. "Besides, he whispered, "I like to groom you." He stroked the brush down, relishing the soft sound the bristles made they pulled through the fur. "Especially this part of you," Gallus crooned, before nuzzling his husband with his beak.

Sandbar grumbled. "Only reason I haven't sheared it off this year."

Gallus leaned forward and kissed his pony on the chest. Setting the brush aside, he then applied his beak to the patch of fur, stroking lines into the soft fur. The pattern faded away immediately, of course, but that didn't stop the griffon from playing.

"...was that a heart?"

Gallus snorted. "Don't be silly. That'd be pretty sappy." He drew the start of another heart in the fur.

"It is!" Gallus felt the pony's hoof gently brush through his crest feathers. "You sappy griff, you."

Gallus rolled his eyes. "It's an ancient griffon symbol, not a heart." His beak dipped downward, finishing the heart shape.

Sandbar yawned. "Uh huh," he said, clearly unconvinced. "Well when you're done drawing your 'totally not a heart' shapes, you want to continue your nap?" The hoof rubbed along the griffon's back, massaging gently at the spot between his wings. "Because I can think of a pony who'd like to get in on that action."

Gallus tilted his head up and kissed the pony. He could taste the sugary aftertaste of cupcakes they had shared after lunch. He could feel the warmth of the pony's mouth, the sweetness of his touch, knew the fiery passion that lay just beneath the surface. The griffon thought about stirring that passion to action, but then considered the warmth of the sun and the embracing hug of his pony. Gallus closed his eyes and sighed, happy to share his nap with Sandbar.