Ocellus is best pony · 7:35am Oct 3rd, 2019

Rumble crept down the hallway, breathing slowly out of his mouth as he did so he wouldn’t make any noise. His body was off balance, and he couldn’t make it listen to what he wanted. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to do that again until he had a good night’s rest on his side, coupled with a hearty breakfast of a hayburger and fries.

He was coming close to Thunderlane’s room now. So, so close to his own at the end of the hall, yet so far away. His brother had work in the morning, and waking him up any time before that was the last thing that Rumble wanted. Thunderlane was late often enough without him having a hoof in it.

Rumble tried his best to keep his hoofsteps light. Thunderlane’s door was slightly ajar, and his brother was a light sleeper. Praying to Celestia as he arrived in front of the room, he slowed his movements, creeping by as silently as he could.

Unfortunately, it was night, and it seemed that Celestia had no power over him at that point. In fact, Luna had probably damned him for thinking her sister could help him in the first place, because as Rumble was nearly past Thunderlane’s room, the older pegasus called out to him.

“Rumble?” he said, voice cloudy and worried. “You finally home?”

“Yeah,” said Rumble. “G’night.”

“Night,” said Thunderlane.

Rumble let out the breath he had been holding. He was a failure at stealth, sure, but Thunderlane had been––

He stopped. Something warm was slowly swelling in his chest.

“Thunder?” he asked. “How long have you been waiting for me?”

“I’ve been awake a few minutes,” came the reply.

“That’s not what I asked.”

Thunderlane grumbled incoherently before answering. “Waited for you until I fell asleep.”

“You did?” Rumble said.

“'Course…”

Rumble laughed and walked into his brother’s room, revelling in the subtle smell of cinnamon body spray and clean laundry. Before their parents passed away, when he was a kid vying for the attention of his big brother every second, and his big brother was much easier to irritate, the smell of Thunderlane’s room was as close as he could get to actually being inside sometimes.

Thunderlane was in his bed––sized for two ponies––bundled up in his hefty blankets, with nothing but his snout poking out.

“Thank you,” Rumble said.

Thunderlane smiled tiredly. “For what?”

Rumble chose not to answer. He instead closed Thunderlane’s door, walked to the bed and bent down to nuzzle his brother, who nuzzled him back. Then he climbed onto the mattress, crawling to the half of the bed that was pure free space, and pawed at the blankets.

Ever generous, Thunderlane let the blanket go so Rumble could dive under the covers and wrap his forelegs around his big brother, and dig his face into the middle of his shoulders.

Thunderlane seemed to purr. “You haven’t been this cuddly since you were twelve.”

“I’m drunk,” said Rumble.

“I know. You smell like sangria. And piss.”

“Shhhhh,” Rumble giggled. “You’re all warm.”

“I know,” said Thunderlane, and Rumble could hear the proud smile in his voice. “You can leech off it if you want. I love you.”

“I love you too, Thunder,” he said. “Good night.”