"Azazel?" A familiar voice called quietly. He was tired. He had a long day. He got in bed ten minutes ago at the most, and now he was being pestered for what must've been the fiftieth time today. "What do you want now?" Azazel replied, using his "please fuck off" tone of voice. "I...I..." he was stsmmering now, something that Azazel couldn't stand. "Spit it out, Butterknife, you can do it." Azazel heard a deep breath, and then something very stupid. "I had a bad dream..." Why was Butterknife telling him this? "And?" Azazel was growing impatient with his housemate. "Well, I was wondering if I could sleep in here... with y-you?" "What?" He couldn't be serious, could he? Turning his body towards the doorway, Azazel's mood went from annoyed to 'awwwww' real quick. Butterknife was sitting on his haunches with a pillow hanging from his mouth, and a complimentary pair of puppy dog eyes. The sight was so adorable that it would make a lesser demon cry. Of course, Azazel didn't show any of his feelings, instead opting to hide them behind an emotional mask. "..." Azazel's mind was too busy thinking about the answer to notice Butterknife getting closer. "Pleeeeaase?" That did it. Azazel decided that if he didn't let Butterknife do this, he'd keep asking and be bothered about it all night. "Fine." As soon as he said that word, he was met with a barrage of "thank you!"s, and soon after that, he felt Butterknife fly up onto the bed. Azazel, again trying to drift off to sleep, was disturbed yet again by a poke to the side. Sure enough, it was Butterknife. "What now?" He was met with the same timid voice. "There's no room up here, see?"No response. "Azazel?" Still nothing. Looking over, Butterknife found that Azazel was already fast asleep, so Butterknife decided that the best course of action would be to nuzzle himself into Azazel. It would've been a strange sight, seeing that Azazel was about the size of a couch, and Butterknife was quite small, due to him being a pegasus, and smaller than the usual pegasus stallion. Butterknife muttered "So soft..." under his breath, burying his back deeper into Azazel's undercarriage. At the end of the journey, however, Butterknife's plot met a slight obstacle. It was a sizeable thing, but he couldn't really tell what it was. Surely Azazel would've felt this object lodged between the two of them, right? Butterknife could've ignored it, but seeing as it would have stopped him from enjoying his best friend's company, he decided to satiate his curiosity and check it out. Butterknife flipped himself 180° on a pivot, rump and hindlegs awkwardly appearing where his head had been. The object booped him on the nose when he moved his head closer, and it soon had occured to him that this was no unknown object. It had actually become quite more clear the more that Butterknife had thought about it. It was emitting a lot of heat, it had the same texture as Azazel's coat, had a strange scent, and it was fixed in the same position that most genitalia were. It was a sheathe, and swollen slightly,at that. Duh! Of course it is, Butterknife thought, but another thought occurred to him; what did it look like? He had never seen a canine's penis before, let alone Azazel's, and knowing more about a friend was always a welcome opportunity. Slowly and carefully, Butterknife outstretched a hoof toward his point of interest, but why was he using his hooves? I mean, sure, he could hold and manipulate stuff with them, but he found far more articulation with his mouth. Ditching the hooves-on approach, Butterknife got a stronger smell of the same aroma. It smelled earthy, virile, as if masculinity had manifested itself into a sense. He felt puny just smelling it, let alone looking at it. It compelled him to come closer. Pushing the sheathe back revealed a lot to Butterknife's eyes, even before getting to the knot. He would've believed that thing was the size of a softball, it was so bulbous! He knew what it looked like, he knew what it smelled like, but what did it taste like? He could make an educated guess based on his interaction previously, mostly getting a metallic tinge from it, but he knew that half measures were no excuse for stopping research. He bet Azazel would be proud of him, using the scientific method, and all that smart stuff. Moving himself closer to the tip of Azazel's exposed member, a quandary about the ethicacy of such an act burned in the back of his mind, but he quickly disowned the thought. The next thought was 'will it fit?', being answered quickly; Yes, Not much trouble there. The next question after he got about halfway to the knot was 'will any more fit?' the answer being; Probably not. The next question that crossed his mind was a lot less curiosity, moreso need-to-know 'is that a paw pushing down on the back of my head, and if so, will I have the most embarrassing death in Equestria?', the answers being; Yes, and hopefully not.