He had handled it all wrong. Big Macintosh didn’t need Caramel to spell it out for him or even hint it, because it was all but obvious from his facial expressions. Big Macintosh was quiet at the best of times, which meant throughout his life he hadn’t had the deepest conversations with ponies. It was a blessing in disguise in a way, for it made it easier for the workhorse to read between the lines. If he had a feeling in his gut that the pony he was near was uncomfortable or sad without even saying it, he was right most of the time. If he knew anypony well enough to trust his gut, it was Caramel.
Stupid. Big Macintosh silently thought this to himself at least a dozen times since he had let it slip just exactly where they were headed. He didn’t think this through, and he had been thinking about it a lot. Near two months, in fact, ever since the night of his and Caramel’s two-year anniversary. It was the longest he had ever been in a relationship a year and a half in, but something about the significance of that night when he held Caramel close to him he realized quickly that… he trusted Caramel. It wasn’t a shocking realization or anything, more like he had opened his eyes to what he had always known. Caramel was his boyfriend, his best friend, and… he trusted him.
The trees were thick for a while as they walked. Big Macintosh occasionally stole glances towards Caramel who of course wasn’t meeting his eye. His eyes looked like what they did whenever his anxiety spiked. He had a tick, a tell really, and it was that he kept biting on his lower lip and glancing around as though wary for ponies nearby staring at them. Never once did he look Big Macintosh in the eye.
“Sugar,” Big Macintosh said, hoping that his words might reach Caramel. He took a chance and gently bumped his body into Caramel and slowed his pace just enough so he didn’t need to watch where he was going too closely. “I love you, you know that?”
It didn’t sound strong enough. That was the same thought Big Macintosh had two months ago, when this increasingly stupid seeming idea first popped into his head. He had been holding Caramel to him tighter than he ever had before, almost desperately really. He kept repeating those words again and again for hours on end. Not all at once, but every few minutes. Caramel giggled after each one and replied with the same affection. Each time Caramel said it Mac’s chest tightened in a happy feeling. But Mac couldn’t get it out right… it wasn’t enough. He had said those words possibly a million times to Caramel to the point where they could no longer express the ground breaking means he wanted to get across such as the first time he spoke them aloud. He thought every time saying it didn’t fully satisfy him just how he could show Caramel the depth of his meaning. Then… this trip popped into his mind.
“I love you too,” Caramel replied halfheartedly. He didn’t fake the words, Mac could tell just from his tone, but he was distracted. Possibly by his own thoughts. Mac tried to think what he could say or do to fix the nervous pony he had created but nothing popped into his head.
But of course, Mac was thick. These were his own opinions right this second. He wasn’t stupid, just thick. Instinctual really. Strangely enough for not talking that much he found that he didn’t overthink things too much. He worked on what felt right in the moment and went from there. Usually it worked, like the first time him and Caramel kissed and he didn’t question his feelings for even a second because of how right it felt. Other times like now it backfired in his face. He didn’t want to make Caramel nervous or scared. Why would he ever want that?
“Are those flowers for…” Caramel hesitated for just a second. It was the first thing he had said without being prompted in quite a while. “T-Them.”
Caramel didn’t know what to call them. Mac’s parents, his family, graves , all of them seemed wrong in their own unique way.
“Eeyup,” Mac responded with a nod. He glanced to the flowers on his back. White tulips and red lilies. “It… was their favorite.”
Mac hesitated, and he wondered if Caramel picked up on that. If he said “It is their favorite” as though they weren’t visiting a cemetery he might have spooked Caramel more. He was watching his tongue carefully now. Caramel just gave a slight nod in response and then clamped his mouth shut again with a bite of his lip.
Mac frowned, but Caramel didn’t glance at him to see.
The forest patch was clearing up. The telltale sign for you were on the right path was the stone archway before them right before the forest suddenly opened. He noticed Caramel slowed as they approached, so Mac himself did the same to go at Caramel’s own speed. When they crossed under the arch Mac noticed Caramel’s muscles tighten, and once the shadow from the morning sun had fully passed the tip of his twitchy tail he breathed out a heavy lungful of air as though he had been holding his breath.
Ponyville’s cemetery was tucked away. The entire forest seemed to expand in a widened field that circled around the open area with only the way they came in as an exit. The trees were thick, almost like walls, and the last rows of the gravestones in the back were still at least a hundred or so feet from the trees at the far end. The graves near the front were the oldest, with stones marking names and dates dating back to when Granny Smith was just a filly. Caramel glanced to them and frowned. Mac bumped into him again and smiled, and though Caramel looked to him he didn’t return it.
“It’s just up here,” Mac said. He tried to inject as much reassurance into those words as he could.
Caramel just nodded and gave out a weak willed “okay” and began to look as though he might throw up. That was a possibility, because he was beginning to look pale.
Ten rows. That was as far back as Mac’s parents were. He almost didn’t even need to glance at the gravestones to know exactly where the two of them were. He had it engrained in his mind that they were exactly seven stones over right next to each other. Their stones were slightly bigger than those around them, but not as fancy or designed with any special symbols. The path in front of them was dirt and not very well kept, because Grass was beginning to grow over it and mix in with the weeds.
“Mmm,” Caramel made a noise when Mac stopped and for the first time looked closely at the names on the gravestones.
Apple Blossom, and Cider Apple. His mother and father.
“Hey Ma,” Mac said with a chuckle as he took the bouquet of flowers from his back. He laid them in-between the two graves. “Hey Pa.”
A moment of silence passed.
“H-Hi,” Caramel mumbled. It was abundantly clear Caramel had no idea what he was supposed to be doing.
Mac sighed. It was sudden and loud. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that it startled Caramel into whipping his head up and widening his eyes. Mac hit the ground with a thump when he fell back onto his hind and sat down before the graves and shut his eyes. He felt thick again, like he was a bad boyfriend for making Caramel so uncomfortable.
“Mac?” Caramel asked suddenly. Mac felt a hoof grip his shoulder and shake him gently. “I’m sorry, did I do something wrong? Hey?”
“Don’t be, Sugarcube,” Mac shook his head slowly and rose his hoof to grip Caramel’s hoof. Caramel walked up beside him slowly and sat down as well. Mac cracked open his eyes and looked into Caramel’s own. Caramel looked nervous, and on top of that ashamed as though he had done something wrong.
“I’m stupid,” Mac said aloud.
“What?” Caramel asked. He sounded almost offended that Mac said something like that. “What are you talking about?”
“I thought… I thought this would be a good thing,” Mac said as he drew Caramel’s hooves to his muzzle. He pressed his lips to it but didn’t kiss, just kept it there and shut his eyes to think. They were slightly muddy from the watery ground signifying the start of Spring, but Mac didn’t mind. As a matter of fact his whole bottom was muddy from sitting down. “I wanted to show you that… I don’t know.”
“What?” Caramel asked again. “You can tell me.”
Caramel was the one comforting him. That wasn’t what was supposed to be going on right now.
“That I trust you,” Mac mumbled. His face felt a little warm, and he hoped it wasn’t bad enough to make a blush obvious by his freckles blending into the red of his fur.
“Mac,” Caramel said quietly. He was silent for a few moments before scooting closer to Mac and wrapping his forelegs around his thick side, not able to fully reach around him. “I know that.”
“I ain’t ever brought nopony here,” Mac said when he glanced up at the graves. “Not even AJ or Apple Bloom or Granny. I didn’t want them to see me… not myself.”
Mac thought about it longer. For so long, ever since he was little, he had to be strong. It wasn’t for his sake, but for the sake of Applejack and Apple Bloom. Applejack was a mess after their parents passed, and Apple Bloom was far too young to even remember their faces or the color of their coats. He could tell whenever he showed her photos by the way her face scrunched that she was trying as hard as she could to remember the faces as anything but strangers. Mac told her stories to give her a better picture and she smiled, but in her eyes Mac knew that she would never fully know them the way he and Applejack had. Even Applejack had to think a little before remembering some of the stories Mac told. It scared him sometimes that the memory of them seemed to reside solely with him, the eldest of their children. It scared him so much that if he forgot about them they might as well have never existed. Of course the rest of the family remembered, but it was in bits and pieces. He was stronger for the two of them. He played the role of their big brother and raised them. But when he was here it was hard to compose himself. He was always a bad lair, that’s what his parents used to tell him when he hid behind their legs even when he was a foal bigger than all the others and he looked older than his age. Whenever he came here thoughts of nostalgia for a time when they were still around tickled the edges of his memories, and he longed for when his father used to teach him how to work the farm and fix things and his mother taught him recipes for cooking and how to care for Apple Bloom. To lose them both so close together from the same disease was…
Caramel’s legs squeezed Mac tighter, but that wasn’t what brought him back to reality. It was the fact that his boyfriend kissed his cheek lightly, and then his lips. He was soft and gentle, caring and kind. The sort of kiss that silently told Mac he wasn't alone. Mac felt his eyes sting slightly but he hadn’t realized it until then. He almost let the thoughts overtake him again. Being weak in front of family was one thing, but… as awkward as he felt right now being weak in front of Caramel was another. He trusted Caramel.
“I’m sorry,” Caramel mumbled aloud. “That I’m nervous, I mean. I’m happy you brought me here… that you… trust me.”
Mac wanted to say something comforting to Caramel like he normally did. He wanted to tell him there was no need to apologize, but he couldn’t find the motivation to say the words. All he said was a simple “Eeyup.”
Caramel laid his head on Mac’s shoulder. Mac lifted his foreleg and slung it around Caramel’s body until the smaller stallion was comfortably placed at his side. They stared at the gravestones together for a while.
“Do you think they’d… react badly?” Caramel asked. “To me?”
Mac didn’t need to ask what Caramel meant. He already knew because he had experienced it. It was brief, and lasted no more than a few awkward weeks, but when Mac said he kissed Caramel to his immediate family for the first time he was met with confusion, not congratulations. That was when he had been weak in front of Caramel the first time. He needed that comfort for the first but not the last time from somebody he trusted like a lover. While Apple Bloom came around the fastest, still young and confused by why the others were confused, Applejack and Granny Smith took their time. While now it was as though nothing had ever happened and they often shared dinners laughing and joking with Caramel, it was a bumpy start. It took six months for Applejack to look comfortable with Mac giving Caramel even a peck in front of her. Now it was though there was nothing wrong to begin with, and his family had come a long way. The first time Granny Smith called Caramel his boyfriend Mac almost cried, though she would never know.
“Maybe at first,” Mac replied. “Ma really wanted grandkids. Pa used to give me advice for talking to mares, not stallions. They weren’t the type to hate ponies, though. They’d give you a shot once they settled down.”
“You think?” Caramel asked. He sounded unconvinced.
“They’d love you like Granny and AJ and Apple Bloom do,” Mac chuckled while shaking Caramel gently. “Pa would… Well he’d probably not know what to call you at first. My partner, maybe? I’d convince him to call you my boyfriend, though. Regardless Ma was real caring. She’d get offended if you didn’t start calling her Ma too by now.”
“Do you think about that a lot?” Caramel asked. “What they’d think of me?”
“I want them to love you,” Mac said. “Like I love you.”
That made Caramel smile. He nodded his head slowly and buried his face into Mac’s chest to hide it. Maybe he thought it rude to smile like he was happy, which he was, in the middle of a cemetery, but it was clear he couldn’t help it.
“You think she’d harass you about adopting instead of having kids?” Caramel asked, half joking.
“Honestly,” Big Mac said with a slight shrug. “Once when Apple Bloom was real little she asked me if I was her daddy. I think that scared me off having foals of my own for good.”
Caramel giggled. It was a sweet-sounding noise that made Mac happy.
“We could get a dog instead,” Caramel said. “Or two… or three.”
“You’d cuddle them more than me,” Big Mac playfully argued.
“Hehe,” Caramel continued giggling. It was clear most of his nerves from before were gone. Mac was beyond grateful. He had the happy Caramel back. His Caramel.
“I always wanted something like that, though,” Caramel said. “A big family. Not like… kids or anything, but just family.”
Big Macintosh grew quiet at that. He rubbed his hoof up and down Caramel’s shoulder slowly. He kissed the top of Caramel’s head and smelled his sweet-smelling mane. He loved Caramel’s shampoo, and his smell in general. Sometimes whenever Caramel went home Mac would press his face into the pillow he had slept on the night before just to get the tiniest scent of his boyfriend until their next meeting. Of course, if Caramel knew this he’d probably tell Big Macintosh he was acting like a dog.
“When I eat dinner at your place I get really lost in having fun,” Caramel continued. “It’s loud and messy. Everypony laughs even if it’s not that funny and it makes me want to laugh too. You’re happy to see each other like it’s always a family reunion. It’s like something out of a brochure. Sage isn’t home much cause of the hospital, and when we do eat we don’t talk much. I love him, but he’s just not much of a cliché family dinner kind of pony.”
Mac frowned slightly in a way that Caramel couldn’t see because he pressed his face to his boyfriend’s mane. He thought of what he knew about Caramel. Caramel’s background was… Well, maybe it explained why he was always so nervous and shy. Caramel apologized a lot, over things that seemed like honest mistakes anypony would understand or even things not his fault at all. He got whispers of Caramel’s past, brief confiding’s before Caramel shut his mouth. Mac had pieced it all together the best he could. He knew Caramel and Sage had both had a hard childhood. Caramel’s mother was...
Mac tried not to think of it. The last thing he needed right now was to become upset. Not now, not after he had fixed the situation.
“I wish I hadn’t taken them for granted,” Mac mumbled with a glance at the gravestones. “That I thought they’d be here.”
Maybe if Mac wasn’t so thick he might have noticed that brief tensing in Caramel’s shoulders. He might have realized he said something wrong for the situation. He might have realized Caramel gripping him, hugging him, all suddenly grew tighter for a fraction of a second. He was vaguely aware of this, but didn’t bother to think why.
“Can you tell me about them?” Caramel asked. “Like… a story or something? I wanna hear what they were like.”
Mac smiled, and kissed the top of Caramel’s muzzle. Caramel smiled back and then kissed Mac’s lips. Mac was quiet as he breathed in and looked up, trying his best to think. It wasn’t often he let himself think of his parents like this, much less aloud. But right now he was in a place where he felt safe. He thought of the time he and Applejack had eaten a dozen apple fritters each that his mother had baked. Their parents had been furious, but couldn’t bring it in themselves to punish them given the fact they had eaten so much that they were both throwing up. It was horrible at the time, but made Mac laugh to talk about now.
He told stories like this. Happy little snippets of memories that he couldn’t fully remember the context for until he began talking. Mac grew happier, because it had been so long since he had shared these memories with anybody who hadn’t been there themselves. Caramel listened, and Mac loved him for that. He hadn’t realized how much he wanted this until he started.
He only would wish later that he had noticed Caramel starting to frown the longer he spoke, and the more happy memories he let slip.