Art by Tsitra360
Art by SoarandBurn
Art by AkatsukiBritt
Yeah.
…
Yeah.
And the next morning, I woke up with a coltfriend. My mind felt clearer, my heart beat stronger, and my face did that thing where it scrunches up and you can't stop smiling and you curl up into a little ball and just feel warm. I don't think I'd felt that way since graduation.
Braeburn woke up around the same time I did. His eyes fluttered open, and he made that scrunchy smile face, too. "Heh. I could get used to this."
I reached out and stroked his face. "So could I."
He shifted closer to me, and we slowly woke up together, holding each other and talking about the night before. Our bodies radiated heat into each other, and we didn't get up until our hangovers had come roaring back. We laughed about that, too.
Braeburn – total trooper – ran down to the front desk, put in an order for mane dye, and got us some more water. Plus, he snagged some of that bastionroot stuff that you chew on to cure headaches. It tastes like bad, spicy candy, but it does the job. We just chugged the water and chewed the root and complained about the flavor until room service arrived with the dye. And when it did…
"Ha!" I turned the bottles over and over in my hooves. I couldn't believe it. I looked over my shoulder and gave Braeburn a sly look. "Really? Hot pink?"
Lying on the bed, Braeburn blushed a deep red. As the bellhop left, he said, "Well, I got black for you, and you can add some purple highlights, but, uh, yeah… Heh." He crossed his forelegs. "Well, uh, I wouldn't want to be too similar, right? Gotta look different. A-and I figure, well, new city, new coltfriend, so why not a new Braeburn? Give the big, flamin' lifestyle a try and just let myself go." He looked up. "You don't mind, right?"
Dammit he looked cute. I could already feel my wings getting stiff. "Babe, whatever you want is fine."
He bounced off the bed and walked over. "So how's that stuff work?" Brushing his body along mine, he leaned in and stuck his nose up to the glass bottle. "You just pour it in?"
"I'll show you. We should probably shower first, though."
We stepped into the bathroom. Just like the hotel room itself, it was way too big and way too fancy: marble everything, chandeliers, and a tub that looked big enough for five ponies.
Yawning, I turned on the hot water and stepped inside. The soothing warmth crept along my body, and my mane and tail felt heavier and heavier until the hair covered my eyes. I parted my mane and saw Braeburn standing there with a goofy grin on his face, and I cocked my head to the side. "What?"
Really slightly, he nodded. "I got me a coltfriend, and he's damn good-lookin'." He stepped into the shower behind me, got right up close, and said softly into my ear, "And I owe him a little somethin' from last night."
Yeah. We did. We probably used up half the hot water in the city, but at least cleaning up was easy.
After we'd finished, Braeburn grabbed the washrag and lathered it up, talking above the rush of warm water as he massaged the soap into my coat. He wasn't gentle, but the hard circles he made on my body relaxed my muscles. When he got to my shoulders, he added, "Gonna need to clean your wings, too, I bet. Want some help?"
"Mmm..." I moaned. "I'd like that."
He finished cleaning me, and I returned the favor, taking my sweet time to touch every little crevice with the washrag. His body was paradise, and it was all mine to explore. I could touch every piece of him, and it would be okay. So I did. I ran that rag over his strong legs, up his flanks, all around his back and his belly, across that gorgeous chest, and even on his face, gently enough to not hurt him but hard enough to let him know I cared. Does that make sense? Meh. Whatever. Love doesn't always make sense.
Don't act surprised. Of course I loved him. I still do. It just… took me a long time to figure out that it was the real thing, that that's what love felt like. If I'd have known it then, I would have told him every day.
But life isn't just sweet moments and washrags. We finished cleaning each other and dried off, but we had to leave our manes and tails wet for the dye. Braeburn wanted me to go first, so I showed him how to rub it in. I ran some water to wash away the excess dye, and I leaned my head sideways over the tub.
He poured the black dye over my head and started rubbing it in. Mane-dying isn't hard, and he got the hang of it right away, but before long, I heard him sigh.
I kept my head in place, but I asked, "What's wrong?" I tried to roll my eyes enough to see him, but he was out of view.
His voice was a low and a little slow. "I like your mane the way it was. Got so much life to it."
"I thought you wanted to try something new?"
He paused. "Yeah, you're right. And hey, we get to lead that 'gay lifestyle' everypony's always ramblin' about. Get to live out loud." His voice was weak. It didn't match his words, but he was trying.
I figured I'd encourage him. "Totally! Give it a shot. You can try out any lifestyle you want, Braeburn."
His rubbing got gentler. He finished applying the black and reached for the little combing tool for the purple streaks, and after telling him how I wanted it styled, it didn't take him long to finish.
"Your mane's done." I ran my head under the faucet, and Braeburn worked on my tail. He started to say something a few times, but he didn't actually get the words out until all the hair had been dyed black and I was shaking off the excess. "Ya' know," he said, "I always thought coltfriends had special names for each other. Somethin' just for them."
"Sure thing, babe." I ruined a towel drying off, and Braeburn leaned over the tub. I uncorked the bottle of dye – pink! – and drizzled a little onto his luxurious mane. It felt like I was vandalizing a famous painting. "What do you wanna call me?"
Braeburn paused, and held still. "Heh. I dunno, Big Blue. Any ideas?"
"Dunno," I said, shrugging. "Something with the 'Bolts, maybe? My dad used to call–"
"Ha!"
"What?" I pulled back a bit.
Braeburn just snickered at me. "I don't know, Big Blue. Do you really want me to name ya' after work, Big Blue?"
My cheeks felt hot, and my ears flattened against my head. I turned away and just tried to enjoy the silkiness of his mane. My voice was slight. "Oh. Yeah."
With another laugh, he settled back down over the tub. "Sounds like you've already gotten used to it, at least."
"Yeah. What about you? Oh, hey. Turn around. Your mane's done."
He got into the tub and soaked his tail again. "Aw, you have to pick it." His eyes lidded, and his voice took on a lot of warmth. "Just think of something that reminds you of me."
He was right. I had to pick.
I worked more of the dye in. It was a hot, bright, unforgiving pink. "So... Sexiest Pony I've Ever Met Who's Super Smart And Makes Me Happy?"
"Nah, too long." I think he thought I was serious. "Maybe just pick a feature."
I ran a hoof through his tail and caught a glimpse of his cutie mark. "Sounds good, Applebutt."
His body tensed in my hooves, and he flinched, drawing his left hind leg up into his body. I leapt back into the air and hovered there, looking at his tail and talking quickly. "What? What? Did I pull it?"
"Uh… N-no." His voice was flat and forceful. "Not that name. It's sorta… taken, and I'd rather not think about it."
"Oh." I fluttered back down and worked in more dye, my eyebrows furrowed. "Bronze was a jerk."
Braeburn chuckled nervously. "Yeah. He… is."
"Eh, I'll think of something." I worked in the last of the dye. "Done!"
A smile spread across his face. "Lemme see!" He jumped out the tub, slipping a little and dripping pink water onto the tile floor. He bounded over to the mirror, and his eyes went wide. "W-wow." He ran a hoof through the still-wet, cotton-candy-colored mane. "That's…wow!"
I sauntered over next to him and took a look, too. Braeburn had done a great job getting the purple streaks nice and even. I turned my head to the side and grinned. "Not bad, Candy Fluff." I hooked his neck and brought him in for a kiss on the cheek. "You look good like that."
"Well, you look good all the time, Soarin'." He turned his head to me and kissed the end of my nose. "I'm just tryin' to keep up."
By the time we'd rinsed off, it was already the late afternoon, so Tuesday was pretty much shot. Nothing wrong with taking it easy and heading out at night, though. Braeburn read the paper while I kept going on Whitewing's Big Score. I was pretty far in – Whitewing and his two buddies had started planning their heist and gathering their materials. It was really getting good.
A few times, I looked up from the book, and Braeburn was sitting at the desk, deep into what he was reading. His eyes didn't leave the page. They scanned every word, never snapping up. He breathed heavily every once in a while, usually when he would turn the page and his eyes would dart everywhere. He looked like he was reading everything, and it wasn't too hard to figure him out: he was looking for his face or his name.
I set the book on the bed and snuck in a bookmark, and then I paused there for a while, just watching him. My chest felt just a little tight. I didn't want to think about the real world, and I didn't want Braeburn to, either, and the more he looked at that paper, the more I felt like I was losing him to his worries. At first, my mouth felt wired shut, but Wonderbolts don't hesitate, and coltfriends don't let their coltfriends suffer. "Wanna do something, Pink Lemonade?"
Braeburn giggled and cocked an eyebrow at me. "Keep tryin', Big Blue." He stood up from the desk and stretched his back. "Still a little hungry. Know any good restaurants?"
"Tons." I saw some stationary on the desk, and since I was already paying attention to the real world, a thought struck me. "Let's get room service, though. I need to let Spitfire know what's happening. Can I borrow the desk, Emerald Eyes?"
We switched places, and I grabbed some stationary and a quill. Just like with my letter to Streak, the words didn't come to me. A few thoughts crossed my mind, but when I stuck the quill into the ink and brought it to the page, it wouldn't go. I grunted and forced myself to write, "Dear Spitfire." It felt wrong, but I was too frustrated at how hard I was trying to notice.
Braeburn must have heard me groaning. "Trouble?" He put down the room service menu, trotted over, and peeked over my shoulder. "Hoo, your hoof writin's terrible. How do you expect anypony to read that?"
"Whaaaat?" I whined. "Some of us have to entertain the crowds instead of writing reports all day, Captain Booty-Flanks."
Braeburn ignored my completely awesome pet name. Somehow. "Well, yeah, but I can barely make it out. Looks like you wrote 'D-E-E-R' and followed it with 'Spritzer.' Here, let me do it for ya'."
"Thanks, Butter Quill."
"Oh, you're not even tryin' anymore." He lightly butted my head, but I saw a smile flash across his face.
Braeburn wrote my letter for me. It was so much easier not having to do it myself, when I could just say what I wanted and didn't have to write. The letter was to Spitfire. It let her know that we were okay and going to hide out in Las Pegasus for a few days, but that I didn't know how long we could stay. It told her we probably wouldn't get any mail she sent us, and it mentioned we'd be traveling back to Cloudsdale. I finished by asking her to keep Bottom Line from firing me.
Braeburn's head popped up. "Hold on. We're really goin' all the way to Cloudsdale?"
I didn't forget that Braeburn was with me. It was more like I figured he would want me to keep taking the lead. Yeah. That's it. "Well, yeah! I wanna show you around!" Half-true. Yes, I wanted to bring him home, but I didn't actually have a long-term plan. I was too focused on keeping the media off our asses.
"Oh." His voice was quiet, and his expression was blank except for two slightly raised eyebrows. "Alright, then."
After dinner, we grabbed a small saddlebag for bits, mailed the letter, and we were off.
We stopped just outside the hotel, and I immediately noticed Braeburn taking smaller steps and looking around. His movements were all rigid, and he kept looking up at his mane.
I bumped him in the side and said, "Own it."
He gave me a weak little smile at first, but when I kept smiling back, he straightened out his back and started strutting next to me.
I whispered, "More hips, like that unicorn guy from last night."
He moved a little more, and his hips swayed side to side. The more he walked, the more swagger he had. With a laugh at himself, he held his head high and puffed out his chest.
I gave him a little space. "Lookin' good, Happy Pride!"
We spent almost an hour just walking around the strip. Braeburn got bolder with his hips and his tail as we moved along. He took wider steps, and he even started giving passers-by little winks and bedroom eyes.
A dark blue pegasus stallion whistled at Braeburn as we passed him. He stopped and winked at me. "Nice hoof candy. You sharing?"
I nudged Brae. "You in, Double Take?"
Braeburn paused and struck a pose. He rotated his ass toward the other guy, half-lidded his eyes, and flicked his tail. He gave the pegasus a long look up and down. "Sorry tall, dark, and handsome. You couldn't handle all this."
My jaw dropped. Seriously, he was working it better than Sapph, and I felt my wings getting stiff.
The other dude's wings started unfurling, too, just a little. "Aw, you're no fun, you tease. Rude to string a guy along like that." He stepped really close to Braeburn, and I felt my hackles raise. "Maybe just a touch? That's a pretty nice butt you've got."
I knew this game. You get rejected, so you pretend like you just want to admire the guy. Then, when he lets you touch him, you go just a little further than he said, and you keep doing that until you've got him back at your hotel room. My jaw clenched, and I took a step forward, thinking, 'No. That's my coltfriend.'
But Braeburn was amazing, like always. "Sorry, stranger. Only room for one right now." He flicked his tail under the dude's chin as he came over and ran his body along mine. "I'll let you know if I find an openin' for ya', though."
The pegasus chuckled and turned away. "Ha! Yeah, okay. Whatever. Have fun, you two." Before he walked away, he said to me, "Give it to him and don't stop."
My jaw relaxed, and I turned to Braeburn.
He was grinning wide and shaking a little. "Ha! Haha. Hoo… Well, that was a bit scary." He nuzzled me again, and everything felt right. "Don't think I didn't see you about to step in, Big Blue."
"Any time, Butternut."
"I think I like this. You don't think it's too, uh…" He looked around, but the crowds of ponies were ignoring us except for the ones checking out Braeburn's flanks. "It's not too… ya' know."
"You can say it."
He snapped back to me. "It's a pejorative, though!"
Big words make my head hurt. "A what?"
Braeburn rolled his eyes. "An insult."
"Oh. Well, it's just a word, and it's only an insult if you let it be."
He took a deep breath. "Well, I'm not being too much of a f-fag, am I?" He searched me for a reaction. Sweet Luna, it was adorable, like watching a colt try to talk about his "ding-a-ling." I could feel the tension swirling around him.
I brushed my face up against his. "It's kinda nice, right?"
His voice was quiet. "Uh-huh."
"Then you can be the biggest fag in Las Pegasus. I'll still sleep with you."
"A-ah…" He blushed and looked down. "I've never been cat-called before. I liked it. It was… nice feelin' wanted. I bet you feel that way all the time, don't you?"
"Eh, not really. There's a big difference between being hot because you're famous and being hot because you're so damn hot. And you're so. Damn. Hot." I smirked and looked him up and down. "You hottie."
"Heh heh. Well…" He kicked the ground and looked up at me. "I want more."
We spent another couple hours trotting around the strip, and Braeburn was an absolute pro. I held back and let him own the place. Stallions kept hitting on him, and even a few mares wanted to take pictures with him. Maybe it was because he looked kinda goofy, but I think it was the confidence. I got to see him come out of his shell a little, and I smiled knowing I was doing my job.
By sundown, Braeburn was jittery and babbling at the speed of light again. "Hoo, this is a fun place. Surprised how easy it is to just walk around, even with all these big attractions to look at. Hope you're not bored! I'm sure not. Hell, it'd probably take a lifetime to see it all. Maybe more than that! Couple lifetimes, at least. Can we– oh, hey!" He stopped in front of jewelry display, but not an upscale one. He lifted his hoof to the glass and stared inside at a row of earrings and studs. Slowly, he turned his head to me. "Can I? I… I want one."
Involuntarily, I took a step back, and my face wrinkled up. "Really?" I raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Well, new me, new jewelry, right?"
"Uh…" I never got the hang of what to say in situations like that. I mean, I liked the old Braeburn, but he was exploring a bunch of new things, and I didn't want to stifle him. Plus, if he started living on the edge, it would mean someone that I could always party with, and that he wouldn't get too angry at me if I partied too hard.
Braeburn turned back to the window. "I'll pay for it myself, if that's the issue."
"No, no." I waved a hoof. "I've got this. It'll look great on you."
Braeburn paused. "Yeah." He slowly shook his head, and his smile came back. "Yeah."
Was I even capable of saying no to him?
I'd relaxed a lot that night. Seeing Braeburn get to be unabashedly flaming for a while was fun. It was this new side of him that I'd never seen before, and I loved getting to watch him play around. Life had flavor again. 'He feels comfortable around me,' I thought. 'He's okay acting like this when I’m around, and he's never been able to before, but now he can. Because of me.' My chest fluttered, and my head felt clear.
Braeburn insisted on paying by himself, which was good because I'd totally spaced on going to the bank. We walked into the small shop with the walls and walls of body decorations, and he bounced up to a glass case. He picked out a medium-sized stud, a light blue zircon that was the same color as my coat. "So I'll always think of you," he said, nuzzling me. "You gonna get one?"
"Nah." I hadn't even hesitated.
"Oh…" His head cocked to the side. "Why not? Don't you wanna match?"
"Eh, I'd have to take it off for our shows, anyway, and they take, what?" I looked over to a surly worker covered in piercings. "…like, a month to heal?"
The tawny earth pony behind the counter gave a small nod. His voice seemed really upbeat for a guy with more metal than skin on his face. "As long as you take care of it and keep it clean, you can take it out after two weeks."
"Yeah. I don't want to get it infected when we get back to Cloudsdale. Bottom Line's already on my ass enough as it is without me needing medical leave." I had really loose lips that night, didn't I? "Plus, I don't really like how they look on me. Never really grew into them."
When I saw Braeburn frowning, I thought, 'Shit. I'm killing the mood.' I perked up and nudged him with my shoulder. "It'd look great on you, though!"
Braeburn chuckled. "Heh heh. Well, I'm glad you think so, since I'm gettin' one either way." He looked back at the… I think they go by "artist" or something. "Ready when you are!"
We were in and out in twenty minutes, and Braeburn had a new blue stud to go with his new blue stud.
We finished the night with a magic show and a little gambling in one of the casinos. The big places always have banks open at all hours, so I stocked up.
Wednesday was a blast, too. We toured of a bunch of old landmarks, went to a "museum of the stars," and saw a concert late at night with tons of light and fireworks and everything before finishing up at a bar, and you better believe we found time to screw, even if I had to be careful with the new hardware.
Braeburn's little adventure into being super gay went pretty well, too, at least for a few days. We got him a pink shirt that matched his loud mane, and the cat calls kept coming. He kept playing along, but every time it happened, he reacted less and less, and by Wednesday night, he was asking to leave the bar early because he didn't want any more guys "getting all grabby." I was happy to oblige and be the grabby one that night.
We left. I kept trying to get him to talk about how he was liking the lifestyle on the walk back to the hotel, but he kept changing the subject. I didn't push it.
The next morning, we were sitting in a diner, waiting for the waiter come back and actually take our order. The diner was nothing special, but it advertised itself as "the queerest breakfast in town," and it had a bunch of pink décor everywhere. It still smelled like grease, though, and the paint was peeling off some of the walls, but at least the tables looked clean. Couldn't make up for the slow service, though, or the grime in some of the corners.
We were there a little after sunrise, too, so there wasn't much business. Anypony that had been out late was still sleeping off their hangover.
I sipped some stale coffee while Braeburn scanned page after page of the local paper. "You know, the Las Pegasus Rambler doesn't run national scandals. Too many local ones to cover."
Braeburn sighed and folded up the paper, setting it aside. He shook his head, rubbed his face, and looked up at me with a slight frown and dark circles under his eyes. He blinked hard at me. "You've got something on your mind," he stated.
I hadn't realized how long I'd held the coffee cup at my face. I set it down with a small clink. "Well, I do. You."
He grinned and shook his head. "Aw, looks who's Mr. Romantic this mornin'."
"Seriously." I examined him again. His shoulders were sunken, and his eyes were… also sunken. "You look messed up, Pink Lady."
"Hey, now. I said no mare-soundin' names." He took a deep breath and put two hooves on the table. "But, yeah, I’m tired. Or weary of the city, I think. We aren't all built to party every night, Soarin'. Some of us like the quiet."
What? Oh, come on. I can't tell you about every conversation we had. Some are private. So, yeah, he knew how much I hated the quiet. I wasn't gonna hide that from him. He told me a bunch about himself, too. You just… do that sometimes.
I reached over and put a hoof on his. "So, what do you wanna do?"
"I dunno…" Braeburn looked around the café. The more he stared, the more deflated he seemed. "Did we really have to come to the gay breakfast place?"
"I… thought you'd like it." My legs felt uncomfortable, and I shifted in place.
"It's nice, and that's very thoughtful." He ran his free hoof through his mane, and a few pink hairs stuck to it. He looked at them and flicked them away. "It just seems so artificial."
"Yeah, maybe. I–"
The waiter, a unicorn in a tight fishnet shirt, appeared out of nowhere and dropped two mimosas off on the table. We hadn't ordered any, but as he explained, there were "from the couple at the opposite table."
When he got out of the way, I saw two pegasus stallions giving us the bedroom eyes. They looked like wrecks – clothing stained and wrinkled, manes all out of whack, and leaning way too hard on the tables. Their movements were a little jerky. They were probably still partying from the last night, and they were probably high, too, from the looks of their twitchy eyes. No question, they wanted to end their night with a bang. Literally.
Braeburn sighed and looked back to me. Even as tired as he was, he looked so crisp compared to the other guys. "See? Like that. They don't even know us, and they wanna make a move." He rolled his eyes and nickered, and his tone flattened. "They're not gonna come over, are they?"
"Just follow my lead." I pushed my drink to the edge of the table.
Braeburn did the same, and the waiter delivered the drinks back to the other stallions, who just shrugged and kept talking to each other. They didn't bother us again.
Braeburn massaged his temples. "How do you deal with this sort of thing all the time? Ponies throwin' themselves at you and such."
"Eh." I cracked my neck. "I just roll with it. You have fun with somepony for a night and move on. That's just how it is." I took another sip of my lukewarm coffee.
Braeburn shook his head again and raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't it feel hollow, though? I'd think it would drive you crazy after a while, not connecting with anypony."
I set my mug on the table and stared at it, holding it with both forehooves. "I mean, yeah, totally. You get sort of used to it, like you're in a holding pattern, and you get tired. It wears you down, but it's so easy to go through the motions week after week You either grind yourself down to nothing, or…" The past week played out in my head, and I felt a sudden rush of endorphins.
"Or what?"
"Oooooor you go crazy and chase after the first pony in months that treats you well." I laughed quietly. I mean, hell, I had to have been pretty desperate or out of my mind or something to chase Braeburn down like that, right?
"Heh heh. You sayin' my coltfriend's crazy?" Coltfriend. I liked that word. A lot. Especially coming from him.
"Well, I'm certainly cr–"
Braeburn smirked and narrowed his eyes. "If you say 'crazy about you,' I swear I'm leavin'."
'Dammit!' I thought. "No, I… aaaaam…" My head bobbed left and right, but my gaze eventually settled on Braeburn's sparkling eyes, and the words came to me. "I'm lucky the guy I fell for is everything I could want."
Nailed it!
Braeburn smiled, and the muscles in his face relaxed. "You know, they say earth ponies can always tell when somepony lies to them," he said in a soft, mellow voice.
My heart jumped, and my wings hitched up a little. I cocked my head to the side. "W-what's that supposed to mean?"
He took my hoof in his, and then he brought it up to his face and kissed it. "It means we know when you're tellin' the truth, too."
The tension released from my body. I leaned over and bumped my nose into his, feeling the velvet-on-velvet of our soft skin.
And then I whispered, "Jerk!" and kicked him lightly under the table.
"Ow! Heh heh." He pulled back and grinned. "Careful, now. You might not be the only crazy one."
I leaned back and gestured with a hoof. "Oh really? You're nuts, too?"
Braeburn cast a glance at the condiment rack on the table. "Crazy as a pink peppercorn."
"What?" I blinked a few times at him.
"You know, a pink peppercorn?" His voice had slightly weird inflection. I should have known something was up.
"…what?"
"Pepper. It comes from these little seed-like pods. Most are black, but every once in a while, one of 'em turns out pink. Gets crushed in with the rest of 'em, and you can see it in the pepper. You never heard of that?"
"Nnnope!"
"Ha! Well, I'll show ya'!" He grabbed the pepper shaker, took my hoof, and shook a small pile onto it. He leaned in. His eyes went wide, and he pointed at the pile. "See? There's a few pink specks."
I couldn't see them, which felt weird, since I have such good eyesight. "I don't see it."
Braeburn leaned in again. "Look closer."
I brought my hoof right up to the edge of my face and squinted. "I still don't–"
Pwoof!
My nose freaked out as a small puff of air from Braeburn's mouth carried the pepper into my nasal cavity. "AAA–CHOO!!!" I shook my head, which just sent more pepper flying. "AAA-CHOO!"
Braeburn slapped the table. "Aaaahahaha! Oh, c'mon, Big Blue! You're smarter than that!"
By the time I was done sneezing, I was giggling along with him. "You ass."
"Turnabout's fair play," he snickered.
"Heh. You're right." I reached over and tipped his water glass at him, sending cold water splashing onto his chest.
"Eep!" He jumped in his seat, but then his eyes narrowed, and his mouth twisted into an evil grin. He grabbed my glass and splashed my face with it.
We'd moved on to full-on soggy napkin wars by the time the waiter shouted, "Out!" We did as we were told, and I stiffed the waiter. Hey, if he hadn't been so slow to take our order, we wouldn't have gotten distracted.
Out on the street, Braeburn shook himself off. "Is every restaurant gonna be like this? Heh heh. You weren't even drunk this time."
A few ponies had started milling about the streets of Las Pegasus, but there was only one on my mind. "Like I said, I'm crazy."
"Yeah, you are."
I nuzzled up close to him and whispered into his ear. "Crazy for you."
Braeburn pursed his lips and shook his head. His words were soft and slow. "What am I gonna do with you?" He kissed my forehead.
"That's easy. Keep me!"
"Fine, ya' troublemaker." Braeburn nuzzled me again. "So, any place low-key for the day? I think I've had enough excitement for a while."
Can't blame him. We'd done a ton of stuff on our short trip, and I was a little tired, too. "There's probably a spa at the hotel. Sound cool?"
"Yeah, but let's get some grub at a food cart or somethin'."
We started trotting back to the hotel, and the conversation didn't pick up. It was weird, like we were both waiting for the other pony to say something. I didn't really know what to do, since I felt fine, but the silence was killer.
Braeburn finally spoke his mind after a few blocks. "How much longer you wanna stay here? Can't imagine it's easy on your budget."
"It's no big deal. Hell, we could stay another month if we wanted to." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him cringe, so I added, "Buuuut, you probably wanna skip town, right?"
He nodded. "Mm-hmm. Think it's too early to head back to Appleloosa?"
"Probably. The story hasn't even broken yet, and we should wait for it to die down. They'll get bored eventually."
There's a reason I'm not a media pony. I'd thought that laying low would throw them off our trail. Turns out, "The Search for Soarin'" just got worse the longer we stayed hidden. Who knew?
I asked, "Know any other places to hide out?"
He looked forward, down the street at nothing. His breathing became shallower. "Maybe," he said after a long pause. His steps were stiff, and he stuck his lower lip out. "Lemme think about it."
We spent the rest of the day at the spa. Ever been to a spa? They do all the stuff you see in the movies, from the seaweed wraps to the facials. We got a salt scrub, which is this thing where they exfoliate you or season you or something, and we finished up with a couple's massage. You should go sometime. Treat yourself.
That night, we ate dinner at a fancier restaurant. I was well-behaved, and I even bought a nice, black button-up shirt. It was one of those dinner-and-a-show places with a bunch of acrobats and comedians, and it was a nice way to spend the evening.
Of course, it got even better when we made it back to our room. We got back early enough that we weren't exhausted, and we spent a long, long time getting freaky and experimenting with a couple things we'd wanted to try. Taking it slow always makes the ending so much better. We fell asleep spooning.
On Friday morning, Braeburn woke up first. I felt him shifting in bed, which woke me up, too. We'd separated in the middle of the night, and I felt myself reach out and grab him. I groaned through a sleepy haze, "No. Warm. Sex muffin."
He leaned back and kissed my nose, and he spoke gently with that voice that always made everything better, that voice that could open my eyes and bring me back, no matter what, every single time. "Go ahead and sleep in, Big Blue. I'm just goin' to get us some more water."
Pegasi don't always know when ponies are lying.
He said something else to me, but I don't remember it, and I fell right back asleep. I had a great dream, too. Braeburn was underneath me, and I was chewing on his ear, and he kept moaning and saying my name and telling me not to stop, and we were up on a cloud with the stars above us and nopony else around. It was a great dream.
When I woke up, my teeth hurt, and the corner of my pillow was wet.
The thing was, I knew it was much later. Like, way later. I hadn't seen the clock the first time, but something inside my chest told me I hadn't seen Braeburn in hours.
"Braeburn?" My voice was hoarse. I sat up and looked around the large room. Nopony there. I rubbed my eyes and checked again. Still nopony but me.
I started sweating, and I could hear myself breathing. My skin tingled, and my stomach felt sick. I leapt up and tripped getting out of bed. Nothing seemed out of place: his hat was still on the chair, and the bathroom door was open.
My body was paralyzed. 'Luna, what if he's hurt!' I thought about everything that could have happened – maybe somepony had asked him to step outside and help with something. He would have gone, too. 'Did I warn him about strangers!?' My heart raced, thinking of him getting taken down some back alley somewhere. "Braeburn!"
I dashed to the door, threw it open, and barely stopped myself from tripping over Braeburn, who was sitting just outside the hotel room.
He looked up at me. He put on a big smile, but his eyes were puffy and wet. "Oh, sorry. Heh heh. Didn't mean to worry you. Just figured you'd want to sleep in." His lip quivered a little. "Sleep alright?"
I was still barely awake, and I shook my head to knock some of the sleep out of my skull. "Babe, what's–"
On the floor next to him sat a pile of magazines and papers, a large stack that looked like it had the Friday editions of everything printed in Las Pegasus. A magazine sat on top, and on its front page, glossy and in full color, were two pictures edited to fill the page together. On the left, me, sitting outside of Braeburn's house, looking distraught and surrounded by paparazzi. On the right, Braeburn, looking over his shoulder and sneaking onto a train. "The Search for Soarin'" was plastered at the top in big, gaudy letters, joined by a bunch of stupid questions about who Braeburn was and what he was hiding.
"…Shit."
Braeburn shrugged, and his stiff smile came back. "Well, what can you do?" His voice sounded choked off, and he started blinking a lot. I saw his stomach contract as he stifled a sob.
'I can be a good coltfriend.' That thought ran in circles around my head, but I just stood there, slack-jawed. 'Just tell me how!'
Braeburn took a shaky breath, gathered up the pile, and carried it inside. He set all the magazines and papers on the desk and stared back at me. His eyes took on a soft, welcoming sparkle, and for a moment, he looked like normal Braeburn. "You okay?"
That stallion never stopped surprising me. Here he was, facing something that he'd been dreading for almost a week, something that he knew would make a lot of ponies close to him unhappy for a million different reasons, and he was asking me if I was okay. Dammit. I wish I could have been half as good as he was to me that day.
I barely moved. "I… wanna be a good coltfriend." I sounded like a yearling.
Braeburn chuckled and dried his eyes with a hoof. "Well, I could use a shoulder." He motioned to the bed with his head.
I felt numb, and I didn't know how to fix it. Braeburn was sad, and all I'd done was pretend that the media wouldn't catch up to us.
We lay down together, and I wrapped my wings around us as he set his head on my chest. We breathed together in silence for a while.
Braeburn spoke gently. "Now's the part where you ask how I'm feelin'." This probably sounds weird, but it reminded me of how Dad sounded whenever he tried to teach me something new.
I couldn't babble the words fast enough. "H-how are you feeling?"
He squeezed my chest. "I'm not… I don't know. I just feel lost again. It's just like after Bronze left. Everything's just a mess, and it's all my fault again."
Alarms started going off in my head again, but I managed to keep my voice even as I stroked his mane. "It's… no, it's not your fault."
"See, it is, though. It doesn't matter, but, ugh…" He snorted, but his voice was still meek. "Soarin', what the fuck am I doin'? I up and left my town with a bunch of camera-happy psychopaths crawlin' all over, and I haven't even written back to Slate or Silverstar to see how things are goin'. They've gotta have their hooves full with all the stuff I left undone, and I don't even know how the orchard's doin' or who's runnin' it."
"Brae, you–"
"Keep listenin'. Please."
I shut up and held him a little tighter.
He continued. "I don't even know when I can go back. That's what hurts the most, I think. I need my roots, and I should know that better than anypony, but I went and tossed it all away because of some stupid, pretty lights."
My heart hurt. 'Or a stupid, pretty pegasus.'
Braeburn slowly stroked my hip. "I don't even like pink, Soarin'. It's too garish. Too out there. And I'm… Well, I'm feelin' pretty foolish right now. All this partyin' and mane dyin' and tight clothing…" He sighed. "This ain't me. Ugh. And I even… ugh!" He reached up and felt his ear. "I even went and got this thing done, and now I gotta keep it in for two weeks, and I don't even know if it'll heal. It's just been one bad decision after another."
My chest heaved a little. "I… think it looks nice."
"I dunno. I like it because it reminds me of you, but… I-I just feel silly, I guess. I'll be the only pony in Appleloosa with jewelry like this, mares included, and everypony's gonna give me funny looks."
"H-how can I fix it? I'll fix it! How can I fix it?" I felt my rear hoof twitch.
"You're sweet, but I think I just need some time." He sat up and looked me in the eye. "Is it okay if I have a couple hours to myself?"
I felt an arrow go through my heart. I was supposed to be the guy that knew everything. I was supposed to be there for him while he healed and learned what a great relationship was like, and I was supposed to be the one he turned to when he felt down.
I looked back at him, and the words just fell out of my mouth. "But I don't want you to feel alone."
"I don't think you can really change that right now. My family's gonna see those pictures, and they're gonna be all kinds of offended I didn't tell 'em sooner that I like stallions." He settled back down on my chest. "Or, hey, they might not talk to me at all. I was gonna tell 'em. Honest. This summer even, at the reunion, one-on-one. Had it all planned out, too. Who I'd talk to first, where I could find Big Mac if I needed some support… Comin' out's supposed to be so important, and it just feels like I got robbed. I don't get the chance to tell them myself, from my own mouth."
I weakly patted the top of his head. "I'm sorry."
"It'll be okay." He looked at me again. "Really, though, can I have some time alone?"
The word tasted bitter. "Sure."
"Thanks."
Leaving that room, I worried that I'd taken all the heat with me, that Braeburn was going to just shiver alone and not have anypony to keep him warm. We'd been together constantly for over a week, and everything felt colder as I walked out to the street alone. Cold, and like something was missing.
When I meandered onto the streets, there were already a lot of ponies running around, taking pictures and absorbing as much of the culture as they could. It didn't feel noisy, though. Nopony was talking to me, and my shoulders and head sagged lower and lower the more I walked. I thought about going for a flight, but my wings felt stuck to my sides. Even just walking felt like a chore. Amidst all the noise, it was quiet.
I didn't want to be alone that morning. Even more than that, though, I didn't want Braeburn to feel alone. He deserved to know that there would always be ponies there for him, that he always had a team. I wanted to show him. I wanted him to know I'd be there.
And sometimes, the world gives you a break. You look up just in time to see a familiar jewelry shop window and a yellow gemstone that screams at you louder than a stadium full of fans.
The whole procedure took about twenty minutes. I'd picked out a lemon quartz that matched Braeburn's coat perfectly, and even though getting my ear pierced hurt like a bitch, I felt good about it the whole flight back to the hotel room.
When I walked in, my heart fluttered, and my cheeks felt hot. Braeburn was at the desk, reading the paper again, but he turned to me with that same weak smile. "Guess we have different ideas about how long..." He cocked his head to the side. "Is that…" He squinted, and half-laughed, half-scoffed. "Huh! You didn't."
I looked down at my hooves and turned my head to give him a good view of my new stud, a yellow gemstone set into my left ear, on the opposite side of his. "You… don't have to be the only one that looks silly."
I could tell how red I was getting. What a sight, right? I'd been drunk off my ass in public, feeling up a stripper with my coltfriend, and through tons of embarrassing interviews, but no. No. Standing in front of Braeburn was the thing that made me shrink like a school filly in front of her crush.
When I looked up, he was shaking his head and smiling warmly. He stood, walked over, and gave me a big hug. He whispered into my ear, "You really are crazy, you know that?"
I whispered back, "Crazy for you."
* * * * *
I sneak a glance at his left ear. It's hard to see behind that mane. I wonder if he knows I'm staring.
Soarin' grins. "Go ahead. Take a look." Obligingly, he turns his head.
Guess so.
I squint my eyes, partly from the light shining off the cloud we lay on, and while I don't see any gems, there is a tiny, almost imperceptible hole there. I smile. "You still wear it sometimes, don't you?"
"Yeah, I do." He stretches his neck. "Neither of us really liked them at first, and I still think they're a pain, but they grow on you. Sometimes, it's nice to put it back and remember those good days. It helps a ton when the photos aren't enough."
I feel an eyebrow raise. "Photos?"
* * * * *
After a lot of cuddling in the middle of our hotel room, Braeburn pulled away. "We should think about packing up. The articles don't focus too much on Appleloosa just yet, but a few say we've been spotted in Las Pegasus."
"It's cool. I've had enough for one trip." I was lying.
"You're lying, but that's sweet."
I blushed again but quickly changed the subject. "So, where we heading next?"
Braeburn nuzzled me again, and he started using his clear, firm mayor voice. "Soarin', I'm a traditional pony."
I snorted and rolled my eyes. "Ya' think?"
"And there are certain things a pony like me likes to do."
My stomach was knotting, and I gave him a sideways glance. "Where is this going?"
"You're a good stallion, Soarin'. Like we say in the country…" He stood next to me, grabbed my neck, and kissed me on the cheek. "You're the kind of stallion I could bring home to Ma and Pa."
My eyes went wide, and my voice went flat. "Dude. Seriously?"
"Eeyup!"
I sighed. "Your parents aren't gonna, like, try to kill me, are they?"
"I've got faith you could outrun them."
I groaned. "Awesome…"
He patted my chest. "You'll be fine. They actually liked Bronze–" What the hell, right!? "–so they'll think you're even better." He glanced up at his mane. "Should probably take care of these colors, though. Can you wash it out? Special chemicals or something?"
"Yes, but…"
He tensed up. "But what?"
"Buuuut I want some pictures first." I ran a hoof through his mane. It wasn't as soft as usual, but I still wanted to bury my face in it. "I might never get to see you this pink again. There's a photo booth in the hotel lobby."
"But you're okay with seein' my parents?"
I wanted to stay positive, and it wasn't like I had any better ideas. "Sure thing, Braeburn."
"Heh. No pet name?"
I looked up and to the side, and my lip stuck out. "Nah. I don't need to pretend you're somepony else. I like the real Braeburn."
He nuzzled me again. "I’m lucky to have you." There was a small pause as he breathed in the scent of my face. "I still want a real pet name, though."
"Fine, but I get to use the best one then. I promise I'll make it better. You okay with that, Applebutt?"
Braeburn backed up half a step and smiled. Slowly, he nodded. "Yeah, I think I can manage. Now let's go get this over with. I miss that dark blue puff o' yours."
Those pictures came out great, by the way. We took a ton of them, and yeah, it was fun to show off the goofy hair and new studs. There were some goofy pictures and some cute ones, and I love 'em all. I've still got them up in my room, all over my mirror. I'll let you see them sometime.