Roots

by Storm butt


Chapter Eleven: Starlight

“He’s fine, Big Mac,” Braeburn said, trying to comfort his cousin.

Big Macintosh frowned, though Braeburn couldn’t see it. It was dark in his cousin’s room despite the time of day due to the shade being drawn and forced shut. Caramel was asleep, his eyes occasionally twitching with signs of dreams that Big Macintosh wanted to see but couldn’t. He had heard some of the whimpering’s and crying mixed of pains and nightmares from the first day, and hoped that they had passed and were replaced with more pleasant dreams. He held Caramel’s hoof in both of his own, sitting beside the bed for so long his backside was beginning to grow numb from the hardwood floor. He squeezed Caramel’s hoof, his chin on the bed close enough to kiss it if he outstretched his lips. He huffed out a sigh of air through his nose and saw the fur on Caramel’s hoof tremble.

“I know,” Big Macintosh muttered.

He was lying; his tone made that clear. The truth was Big Macintosh didn’t know, but had to believe. He had to believe that Caramel was okay and not hurting, physically or mentally. This wasn’t how their trip together was supposed to begin. He wasn’t supposed to be forcibly taken away from his boyfriend by a sickness that left him near comatosed during the day and awake restless at night with fever when Mac was asleep. The few conversations they had the past few days were brief, and Caramel wouldn’t so much as let Big Macintosh kiss him for fear of spreading the sickness on. Mac didn’t care if Caramel got him sick too, he just wanted to feel those lips again.

Big Macintosh shook his head ever so slightly. He was being sappy and over dramatic again.

“Seriously,” Braeburn chuckled. “Fever’s basically gone. He’s just weak today. I swear, tomorrow me an’ you and Caramel will go out and I’ll give a proper tour of… AAAAAAPL-!”

Braeburn shouted loud enough to make Big Macintosh’s ears flatten and Caramel’s face scrunch. He turned his head slightly to glare out of the corner of his eye at his cousin, who was chuckling through the hoof he had planted over his mouth once remembering Caramel was asleep.

“Sorry,” Braeburn whispered, which of course for him was to talk at normal volume. “I’m just saying, I’ve been waiting to kick off this tour for three days. He’ll be better then, Mac.”

“Yeah,” Big Macintosh muttered, having to agree with Braeburn because if he didn’t his chest would start to hurt again. “Caramel gets sick a lot.”

Braeburn was quiet, a new feat for him, and touched Big Mac’s shoulder again.

“I don’t think he knows how much it scares me,” Big Mac muttered. “Seein’ him weak and I can’t help him. Just having to watch as his body struggles to manage.”

“Mac,” Braeburn said, squeezing his shoulder now. “He’s gonna be okay.”

Somehow Braeburn managed to pull Big Macintosh away, but not before he kissed Caramel’s hoof and mumbled something about being back later. It was partially the fact that his backside was growing numb from sitting on the hardwood floor for the better part of three days that motivated him to move, but also the fact that he also hadn’t eaten all morning.

The stairs creaked under Mac’s weight in a way they didn’t for Braeburn’s as he followed his cousin. The kitchen three days prior had a sweet smell of baked apples and an undertone of cinnamon, but now it was replaced by a broth-like vegetable scent of soup. Caramel at one point during one of his more lucid conversations with Big Macintosh said that he felt so forcefully stuffed with soup he might never want to eat again.

“He walks!” Cam shouted from the kitchen where he was stirring the large pot of soup that had been made the evening before, trying to reheat it for lunch. “How’d you pull him away, Brae?”

“His stomach did most of the talking,” Braeburn said, half teasing Big Macintosh as he bumped into the workhorse before jumping off beside his father. Big Macintosh sighed, walking over to the table where before he could even sit down a steaming bowl of vegetable soup was down before him. It smelled delicious, but unfortunately Caramel wasn’t the only one growing sick of the stuff.

“Jeez, we haven’t even made a dent in this,” Cam mumbled while taking out a ladle and letting it pour back into the massive pot. “Did I tell you that you went a little overboard in the soup department, kiddo?”

“I wanted to make sure there was enough!” Braeburn whined. “Besides, we had a bunch of vegetables that were about to go bad and I didn’t wanna waste em and…”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Cam chuckled. “I was just teasing you. The soup’s great.”

Big Macintosh took a spoonful of the soup, and had to agree. Even though he would have killed for a different flavor Braeburn really did make it perfectly. However, when he was half listening to Braeburn and Cam’s conversation he glanced to the window. He thought of the town he wanted to explore by now with Caramel and make him feel acquainted with. He thought of Caramel still holed up in bed. He had more than once daydreamed about Caramel and him exploring the town alone, and when Caramel complained about the heat they would find shade and cuddle together like they used to do back at Sweet Apple Acres. If he could, he would have made this Caramel’s home away from home if only for the few weeks they were here. Instead, his boyfriend was miserable and ill.

Suddenly he didn’t feel too hungry. He swirled the spoon around in the bowl without really catching anything, watching the contents swish and move.

“He’s fine, Big Mac,” Cam said when he placed a cup in front of Big Macintosh. “I mean it.”

“Eeyup,” Big Macintosh once again had to agree. The cup smelled of tea, and he took a sip. Apple flavored.

“Seriously!” Braeburn said through a mouthful of soup he was quite literally wolfing down, Cam giving him a slightly disapproving look, which he then proceeded to swallow a mouthful so big he had to gasp after. “I took his temperature and everything! Caramel’s totally fine now! He’s just tired from all of it. Seriously, tomorrow we can go out together and have a blast. It’s just till tomorrow, Mac. He ain’t sick no more.”

Big Macintosh was tempted to agree again but didn’t. He thought again to the night where Caramel was sick and felt guilty. He had been stirred from slumber by Caramel rushing out of bed but thought nothing of it. He thought Caramel desperately needed the bathroom or something. He fell back asleep without thought only to be woken in the morning to be told Caramel had been up sick all night. The first time he saw his boyfriend that morning he was pale with eyes that looked like he hadn’t slept in a decade. He was burning yet shivering, and the sight of it was all too familiar and frightening to Big Macintosh. He thought of his parents for just a second and then tightened his jawline.

“You really care about him, huh?” Braeburn asked.

It made Big Macintosh’s chest loosen slightly. He looked to Braeburn, who had stopped eating and seemed to have been staring right at him. He couldn’t imagine what his face looked like in that moment of confusing thought but it must have been worrying to make Braeburn look at him like that.

Big Macintosh was just about to open his mouth to say of course he did, but was interrupted by a loud chime coming from the living room. The grandfather clock chimed off every hour on the hour, and from the upper level of the house it was hard to hear in the dead of night. He was just about to ignore it and continue his conversation, but suddenly Braeburn slammed his hooves down on the table hard enough to rattle his soup bowl and make some of the broth spill over onto the counter.

“Crap!” Braeburn shouted, shooting up from his seat with wide, frantic eyes. He rushed out of the room and up the stairs, hooves clanking so hard the whole house felt like it was rumbling. Big Macintosh blinked and the stallion was back nearly tripping as he forced his leather vest over his forelegs, his hat pushed so quickly on his head that his bangs were caught in his eyes blocking his vision. He let out about a dozen more craps before rushing out of the door.

“Um,” Big Macintosh said.

“He’s late for work,” Cam sighed.

Suddenly the door Braeburn had just slammed was flung open and Braeburn came running back in, tackling his father with full force and kissing his cheek and then running to Big Mac and doing the same, albeit Cam was prepared for this and Big Macintosh was not so it nearly made him lose his balance.

“Byeloveyouseeyoulater!” Braeburn shouted, already skidding out of the kitchen and back out the door. It slammed again as Big Macintosh was sitting up and rubbing his cheek where he had been kissed.

“That’s my scatterbrained colt,” Cam said, humor glinting in his eyes. “Feel lucky he didn’t hit you first. I got most of the impact.”

“I can see that,” Big Macintosh said, rubbing his ribs where Braeburn had rammed into him.

Cam and Braeburn’s house was like that often. One moment it was a whirlwind of excitement and rush and the next it was dead quiet as though nothing had ever happened. To say Big Mac was growing accustomed to his hyperactive cousin being around twenty-four-seven might have been a stretch, but he certainly was no longer surprised.

Big Macintosh finished his soup slowly. It was cold now. Cam was cleaning up the mess Braeburn had made of his own half-finished soup and Big Macintosh stood up, walking over to the sink and running water through his bowl. He caught himself staring down and holding it there for a long while, just letting the water soak his hooves. It must have been noticeably long, because eventually Cam came up and turned the water off.

“You okay?” Cam questioned.

Big Macintosh felt his chest tighten involuntarily. Cam’s voice was nostalgic for half a second. Deep and southern, something that sounded like his father. It was a wisp of a memory. It had been a long time since somepony had asked him if he was okay in that parental tone.

Big Macintosh frowned. He thought about saying he was just to push the situation along. He then thought that Cam would see right through his lies or beating around the bush. After all, he knew him and Caramel were a couple within minutes of being in this house.

“I’m supposed to be there for Caramel right now,” Big Macintosh mumbled under his breath. He didn’t realize how bitter it would come out until he nearly snarled. He wasn’t sure what he was suddenly angry at, certainly not Cam and definitely not Caramel. “We came here to get away and I’m supposed to protect him.”

“Protect?” Cam chuckled. Some of the annoyance now shifted to Cam. “He’s not eight, Mac.”

Big Macintosh remained silent.

“Look, I know after your parents you had a rough time raising your sisters,” Cam said, touching Mac’s shoulder the same way Braeburn had earlier. Big Macintosh was tempted to slink away, but let him remain like that. He still stared down at his hooves, now dripping with water. “Caramel knows you’re there for him. I still don’t know what you’re running away from, but I know you’re doing it because you care about him.”

Big Macintosh lifted his hooves slightly now and planted one against his forehead. It was cool to the touch. He continued to remain silent.

“Look, Braeburn has a… He has this stallion who… he has a friend,” Cam said. His voice kept pausing as if he was struggling to find the right words. Big Macintosh glanced to him. Cam had his eyes shut now and his face was cocked downward slightly as he nodded his head.

“A boyfriend?” Big Macintosh asked.

“Hoo nelly,” Cam chuckled. “That’s a mess I don’t want to get into right now. It’s complicated, let’s just say that.”

“So not a boyfriend,” Big Macintosh said. It wasn’t a question.

“He’s a stallion who comes by every few months. I don’t know when it started, really. He didn’t tell me till way after it did.” Cam cracked his eyes, looking a bit somber at that last part. “When he’s around you wouldn’t believe the way Braeburn lights up when he’s in town. You think he smiles now, you ain’t seen nothing. I think he loves that stallion with all the heart he has, and my son has got a lot of heart to give.”

Big Macintosh was beginning to wonder just what the point of this story was. He doubted it was to brag about his son’s relationship.

“But this stallion he’s with, he has to travel a lot. They hook up maybe three-four times a year. Whenever he leaves Braeburn gets sad. Sadder than I ever see him normally, really,” Cam was frowning now. “He’ll go in his room for three days and not come out for anything but food and the bathroom. When he’s over it he’s happy again, but not like he was when that stallion’s around.”

“What’s the point in this?” Big Macintosh asked bluntly. It wasn’t like him to be rude, especially to family, yet the words came out anyway.

“You ever read a story with some strict father who tries to break up a relationship he thinks is bad?” Cam questioned. He smiled now, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re looking at him.”

Big Macintosh blinked. He couldn’t imagine Cam as a strict father ever.

“This stallion’s kind of a big shot. Real traveler sort of pony. Wants to see the sights, wants to never stay in one place. Braeburn’s the exact opposite. I thought they were a bad match for each other. Always visiting, always hooking up, never saying they were actually boyfriends. I told Braeburn he shouldn’t see him anymore, and that I thought it was unhealthy.”

Cam pinched his temple. Big Macintosh vaguely remembered a time where Cam said they didn’t fight often, and wondered if this was an exception. From the way Cam was pausing now it seemed like it was. The memory clearly pained him.

“You tried to do what you thought was right,” Big Macintosh said. He didn’t mean it to be defending Cam, more stating the obvious. He think he understood the point of being told this.

“He wouldn’t talk to me for a week. He rented a hotel and everything. He has the money to move out anytime he wants, but he sticks by his old man still,” Cam chuckled. “He’s a real Papa’s boy. He told me when we finally started talking again that he was the one afraid to ask the guy to be his boyfriend. Scared he’d get too attached and wind up miserable because he knew neither of them would change.”

“I know what you’re tryin’ to say,” Big Macintosh mumbled.

“What’s that?” Cam questioned.

“That I shouldn’t do what I think is best for Caramel if he don’t think it is,” Big Macintosh mumbled. He thought back to that day less than a week ago when he decided Caramel was going to come with him. It hadn’t been a question back then, but a fact. He knew in the back of his mind if Caramel said no he wouldn’t be able to force him, but he knew he would fight for it. Caramel hadn’t wanted it at first. Caramel wanted to stay, afraid of running.

“You two are a good match,” Cam said. “I just don’t want to see somepony else screw up for no reason. That guy’s name, the one Braeburn likes. Name’s Soarin… I think they’re a good match too, they just don’t know it yet.”

“Good match?” Big Mac asked, looking in Cam’s eyes now. “You mean it?”

“Course I do, dummy!” Cam laughed when slugging Mac’s foreleg. “Heck, if you weren’t you wouldn’t be up there starving yourself just watching him sleep like a creep.”

Big Macintosh and Cam both chuckled. It felt good to laugh.

“I’m not saying you’re doing the wrong thing just being here,” Cam said. “I’m just saying try not to think you’re saying the guy from whatever it is you’re keeping him from.”

Big Macintosh looked back down, thinking again. The situation seemed less black and white than he had thought it to be earlier. It resided in a grey area. If they were back in Ponyville Big Macintosh could be there if Caramel’s mother came, but here in Appleloosa it was avoiding confrontation all together. It seemed right at the time, and even Sage had agreed.

“Don’t think too hard,” Cam chuckled. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

Big Macintosh blinked, and mumbled something in agreement while he went against Cam’s advice.

“Hey,” Cam said, leaning on the sink and staring out the window. “How are the stars in Ponyville?”

This… was a weird question. A sudden change in topic aside, it just wasn’t something Big Macintosh had ever considered thoroughly.

“Fine?” Big Macintosh said. It came out as a question.

“I’m sure they are,” Cam said, nodding his head out. Big Macintosh followed his gaze. “But it’s close to Canterlot. Big, bright city. Blocks out the real brightness of them late at night. Here though, we’re so far out that they’re almost blinding. In fact, a perfect spot is way at the top of that mountain. See it?”

Big Macintosh did. It looked like it wasn’t that far. A large thing but not too big where it seemed impossible to climb.

“Ain’t much up there but a little clearing near the top. Great place to see the stars and get away for a bit. There’s a path that winds up the thing and it’s safe, even at night. Could take a wagon up there and stare all night long. Maybe a half-hour walk at most.”

“Uncle Cam?” Big Macintosh asked.

“Y’know, Caramel really isn’t sick anymore, just tired,” Cam said.

Big Macintosh stared out, the mountain in sight. Cam nudged his shoulder and smirked, winking at him. He wasn’t exactly subtle, but right now Big Mac was already letting the gears in his head turn. He smiled too, his chest fluttering slightly.


Big Macintosh wiped the sweat from his brow when he finally finished the preparations needed. It had been quite a while since he had needed to wear his horse collar, but for tonight it was a necessity. It was chilly, but nothing compared to the early spring nights in Ponyville.

The clock struck midnight nearly as soon as Big Macintosh walked in through the door, not bothering to close it behind him. The house was dark, but messing around outside so late at night his eyes had already adjusted. Even walking on his tip-hooves his steps were loud under his weight, so he went slowly with a coy near child-like smile on his face.

Big Mac had never had a rebellious stage as a child, mostly because he couldn’t afford to. There was no sneaking out late with boyfriends or even girlfriends, just early to bed early to rise. Tonight was the first break in his streak, even if his Uncle had planted the idea in his mind.

He was quiet when he passed the couch, mostly because Braeburn was laying on it asleep snoring very loudly. He went up the stairs, his cousin’s noises masking the creaking. When he got to Braeburn’s room the door was shut so he pushed it open as gently as he could.

“Hello?” A wide-awake voice without a hint of drowsiness called.

Caramel’s sleep schedule was so messed up after his ill spell that of course he would be struggling to fall back asleep this time of night. Big Macintosh had to resist rushing over to him the moment their eyes met and he smiled.

“Mac, what are you do-”

By resist he meant for about four seconds. He hit Caramel and their lips met, molding together as he half threw himself on the bed and pinned Caramel down. A mix of panic followed by giggling excitement and submissive was what he felt in Caramel’s squirming. When they broke Caramel was giggling, but covering his mouth with his hoof to keep himself quiet.

“Mac, what are you doing?” Caramel whispered.

“Come with me,” Big Macintosh hissed into Caramel’s ear. Caramel squirmed again, giggling at the ticklish sensation of Mac’s breath in his ear.

“B-Braeburn said not to get out of bed until tomorrow,” Caramel said back.

“It is tomorrow.” Big Macintosh grinned. “And you ain’t sick anymore, are you?”

Caramel smiled.

“Nope.”

That seemed to be all the convincing he needed to let Big Macintosh take his hoof. He pulled Caramel from the bed and made a shushing motion with his hoof and lips. Deep down he knew not much would happen if either Cam or Braeburn caught them, but it was the thrill of pretending they were sneaking out that made it so exciting. Caramel was clearly trying not to giggle and gripping Mac’s hoof firmly.
Big Macintosh guided Caramel in the dark. Caramel’s warmth was right there near him as their bodies pressed. They went down the stairs past Braeburn’s snoring.

“Close your eyes,” Big Macintosh whispered when they got close to the door.

Caramel complied, and Big Macintosh led him slowly out the door, making sure all of him to the tip of his tail was out before closing it. He led Caramel further, down the few steps of the porch and around the side of the house. He shimmied Caramel into place and kissed his nose once, his reward a sweet-sounding giggle.

“Open em,” Big Macintosh said, his tone now normal.

Caramel opened his eyes. Instantly, they widened.

Big Macintosh had stolen, the word being used lightly, a large wagon meant for hoarding apples around from the back of his uncle’s house. It was clearly a spare. He had loaded it with blankets and pillow to the brim in a way that made the once hard wood interior look absolutely cozy. A lantern was lit and calling light to the wagon, and in the front were large saddle bags that looked bulging with contents. Caramel stared in awe.

“What is this?” Caramel asked, still whispering.

“Our first date in Appleloosa,” Big Macintosh said, pressing his lips to Caramel’s ear. “You getting in?”

“You mean you’re gonna pull me where we’re going?” Caramel asked, his face in the dark still clearly flustered looking. It was a good kind though, as if he was in disbelieve. “I-I can walk just fine, Mac.”

“You just got done bein’ sick,” Big Macintosh said, pulling Caramel’s hoof close to the cart with very little resistant. “Besides, you can stare at my behind the whole way there.”

“M-Mac!” Caramel snapped.

Big Macintosh just laughed and kissed Caramel firmly on the lips, the taste delectable after being away for so long, and ushered him onto the cart. Caramel complied, but only because he was blushing too hard to fight. Big Macintosh grabbed the saddles and placed them on his back right before hooking the cart to his horse collar. He gave Caramel a little demonstration of what he was talking about by wiggling playfully, and looked over his shoulder to see Caramel was covering his eyes shyly but still laying down comfortably.

“I hate you,” Caramel whined, clearly trying not to giggle.

Big Macintosh smiled. It was the first time in days he had felt truly happy.

When the cart began to move Caramel groaned and settled down. He was grabbing one of the pillows, the biggest and softest, and laying on his side curled up. He looked peaceful.

“So, my apparent escort,” Caramel giggled, squirming excitedly in the cart enough to make it whine with creaking. “Where are we heading?”

“You’ll see,” Big Macintosh said, smirking teasingly.

Caramel rolled his eyes but didn’t push further. He seemed excited, perhaps glad to finally be out of the bed as much as Mac was glad to see him.

They skirted around the back of the main part of town, which was all closed without a single light on. It was probably twenty past midnight when they got to the base of the mountain, and sure enough there was a wide and reliable looking pathway that twisted up and seemed to curl around. He looked up, and it was a good hundred to two-hundred feet tall. Caramel looked up too.

“Are we going up there?” Caramel asked.

“Eeyup,” Big Macintosh said, deciding to drop the mystery now that it was obvious.

“Is it… safe?” Caramel asked, hesitation in his tone. When Mac glanced over his shoulder he was peering over the edge of the cart to the end of the cliff which was about eight feet away from the wheel. Already they were gaining some height.

“I’ll keep you safe, Sugarcube,” Big Macintosh said, half joking and half reassuringly.

“O-Okay,” Caramel said. He nodded his head and didn’t argue further, but Mac noticed he had kept his head low and stared towards the mountain instead of at the outside where they were going higher and higher. Big Macintosh’s breath was a bit hard to catch halfway, and he was very thankful he was used to labor or else this plan would be a disaster fifteen minutes ago.

It took just as long as Cam said it would to reach the top. Thirty minutes. Big Macintosh could feel himself sweating but didn’t mind because here at the top there really was a clearing. It was wide enough for two-dozen carts without danger much less one. Around him there was nothing but open fields staring down and Appleloosa in the distance.

“Wow,” Caramel mumbled.

Big Macintosh saw he was looking up, so for the first time he followed his boyfriend’s gaze.

It was nothing like Big Macintosh had ever seen. A sea of stars bright and shimmering, closer than he had ever thought possible. They were dazzling and near blinding to look at. There were thousands upon thousands more than he had ever seen from Ponyville. No light from towns to dim them, and nothing to hide their majesty other than the limit of Big Macintosh’s sight. It was hard to pull his gaze away and look back to Caramel who hadn’t managed to do the same just yet.

Big Macintosh dropped the front of the wagon after it was on solid, flat ground and went over to Caramel. He climbed into the cart and instantly wrapped his hooves around his lover, pulling him down with a slight yelp of playful protest from the other. Caramel giggled, and Big Macintosh instantly buried his nose as deep as he could into the fur on Caramel’s chest and breathed in deeply. He touched Caramel quickly, in places he hadn’t since the train ride, and felt Caramel begin to do the same to him.

“I love you,” Big Macintosh gasped. He couldn’t remember starting the kiss but it was the first words he said when they broke apart. By now the neat bundle of blankets and pillows was a mess from their tossing and turning. He kissed Caramel again, this time on his neck. He was laying on Caramel, so some of his weight was forced up by Caramel’s back arching in response.

“I-I love you too,” Caramel whispered back, his voice trembling from the way Big Macintosh was touching him.

Big Mac felt hungry as though he had been starved from his lover for weeks, not days. Caramel smelled slightly of the medicine and soup that had been forced into him, and he knew he himself smelled of sweat from the exhausting climb, but he couldn’t keep his hooves to himself for a second longer. The way Caramel was reacting and grabbing back meant that Caramel must have felt the same.

Somehow Caramel ended up on top of Big Macintosh in their tossing and turning and grabbing. He was sitting up, legs on either side of Mac. His body was now glistening with sweat of his own and almost shimmering in the light of the moon closer than it had ever been. Big Macintosh once more was unable to fully convey with words what Caramel meant to him in this moment, in this second. They both froze, panting and smiling at each other.

“You okay?” Big Macintosh asked. “Not to bad after you just got sick?”

“No,” Caramel gasped and shook his head. “You’re just a little wilder than normal.”

Big Macintosh laughed, pulling Caramel down into a kiss and hug and another roll against the side of the cart. At some point he whispered to Caramel to grab something from the saddle bags he had abandoned at some point at the back of the cart. He wanted to feel Caramel in every sense of the word, and for Caramel to want the same of him.

Big Macintosh had no idea how long they were like that. Two wild animal-like stallions wrestling as though they were in heat, which they for all intents and purposes might have been, but once they winded down it was in a mess of forelegs and hindlegs wrapping around the other tangled into blankets and pillows. Caramel’s body was hot with sweat that mirrored Mac’s own when they were done, for the moment at least.

“You’re beautiful,” Big Macintosh mumbled, stroking Caramel’s chest.

“That’s not something you call a stallion, Mac,” Caramel mumbled, a little embarrassed.

“Who taught you that?” Big Macintosh asked. “You are.”

Caramel blinked. The light from the dazzling sky was so bright and evident that he could see Caramel and all his features so clearly without the aid of the lantern he had brought. Caramel touched his face.

“You’re beautiful too, then,” Caramel giggled.

They kissed once, twice, three times more. Some of that fire from before that Mac thought had left his system was returning and it was a struggle to pull away. To just be in this moment with Caramel. He held Caramel, squeezing him really. It was just an inch before pain before he loosened his grip and allowed Caramel to hold him back.

“Caramel?” Big Macintosh asked.

“Yeah?” Caramel responded, his voice half teasing. It was clear his mind was elsewhere.

“Did you want to come?” Big Macintosh pushed Caramel away only slightly, their chests parted but bottom halves still intertwined under the blankets. “To Appleloosa, I mean?”

“Yeah,” Caramel nodded his head. “The reunion sounds nice.”

Big Macintosh frowned. That wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He reached out his hoof, touching Caramel’s face and brushing his mane aside. He wanted to badly to kiss him right now and end this conversation here. Make it a perfect moment.

“I mean… now,” Big Macintosh said. “Right now, I mean. So early. Cause of your…”

Mom. Big Macintosh thought. He couldn’t say the word out loud, but from the change in Caramel’s face from a grin to neutral and stone-like he knew he didn’t have to finish.

“I… I don’t know,” Caramel said, reaching down his hood and finding Big Macintosh’s own before squeezing it. Suddenly his gaze looked away, back up to the stars. Big Macintosh wanted to stare in his eyes so badly but wouldn’t force it until Caramel felt ready. He leaned in, kissing Caramel’s cheek.

“I guess… I came because you wanted me too?” Caramel asked.

“I’m sorry,” Big Macintosh mumbled.

“Huh?” Caramel said, glancing over. Big Macintosh knew he must have looked saddened, because Caramel’s eyes widened. “What’s wrong?”

“I thought… I thought it was best for you,” Big Macintosh said, almost ashamed in his tone being so submissive and weak. He touched Caramel’s hoof and pulled it to his face to feel the warmth. “I thought you needed out. To be away from her. To just get out.”

“Mac,” Caramel whispered, stroking his hoof slightly down Mac’s cheek and against his neck before landing on his chest. Big Macintosh closed his eyes, thinking of Cam’s words. “That’s my problem, not yours.”

“Exactly!” Big Mac almost shouted, startling Caramel. “I… I didn’t think ‘bout taking no for an answer if you would come. I just rushed you out and… What if I should have just been there with you if she came? What if… You just went along because I made you?”

Big Macintosh kept his eyes closed for a long time. Eventually he felt lips settle on his and he shrunk away, but finally cracked them to see Caramel was sitting up. From laying down he could see Caramel’s back, his tail swishing near Mac’s face. He was staring out at Appleloosa now, but probably not looking there. Mac sat up too and touched Caramel’s back. It was already growing cold this high up and free of the blankets, so he pulled it up and wrapped it around the other.

“Mom found out I liked stallions after I moved out with Sage,” Caramel said suddenly. He looked down at the mess they had made in the blankets and pillows. “I just graduated school. Something got out in the last week that eventually reached her. This… this dumb letter I sent to a guy I liked.”

Caramel swallowed a lump in his throat. Big Macintosh touched his chest, and was greeted with a hoof slipping over his own.

“He showed it to everypony and laughed. It spread and everypony knew. It hit town, and eventually all the way back home about a month after me and Sage moved out,” Caramel said, looking to Mac. “She visited us. I don’t remember how she knew where we were but she acted all nice and friendly, not like her usual self. Sage wanted her out but she was acting so differently he thought that… that she might want to say something.”

“Sugar,” Big Macintosh touched Caramel’s face. His eyes looked watering, but hadn’t spilled with tears yet. “You don’t gotta tell me. I know it…”

He was about to say hurts, but stopped short.

“She eventually brought up money,” Caramel said. “She knew Sage had to have some since we were able to move out. The more we denied it the angrier she got. She started being herself again… like some awful transformation. Right before Sage threw her out she said…”

“Caramel,” Big Macintosh tried to interject.

“That I obviously started going after stallions because obviously, no mare was ever gonna love me… a-and all I wanted to do was get fucked.”

Caramel was crying now. It wasn’t dramatic, or big, or anything really. Just a few tears slipping past his eyes. Big Macintosh’s chest seized with panic as he touched Caramel’s face, his hoof wet. He touched his other eye and swore quietly, clearly not wanting to cry. It was a quiet, gentle kind that came out against his will. It wasn’t for pity or attention, just pain.

“S-She tried to hit me,” Caramel said, closing his eyes now. “Sage stopped her. Threatened to get the cops if she didn’t leave. Said we were over eighteen now and she couldn’t do anything anymore. I just stood there stunned and said nothing. She gave me that look she always did whenever I cried… like she was angry at me for it.”

Caramel gripped the blankets now, leaving his hoof from Mac’s own.

“Sugar, I love you,” Big Macintosh said. It was all he could think to say in the moment. “I love you so much. More than anypony, okay?”

“I know,” Caramel said, sniffling now and wiping his face with a clear frustration in his movements like he wanted to stop crying but couldn’t. “I know. I know. I know.

Caramel kept repeating it now. He didn’t sound like he wanted to convince himself, but was reminding himself again and again through whatever pain he was showing right now.

“Something like that happened every time she visited,” Caramel said. “Either to me or Sage she would say something that pushed it over the edge at one point or another.”

“She’s out of your life, Sugar,” Big Macintosh said. “I told you. Ponies like her are worth leaving behind.”

“But she isn’t left behind, Mac,” Caramel said, gripping his chest. “She’s always there. Always coming and following us and wanting things. I don’t… I don’t love her at all.”

Caramel winced as though he had been struck. It was a painful confession, one Big Macintosh wondered if it had ever passed his lips before. He wanted to kiss those lips and tell Caramel it would all be okay, that he was here and that he would never let anything happen to him.

Then Cam’s words crossed his mind again.

He’s not eight, Mac.

Cam was right. Caramel wasn’t a child, but an equal. Caramel was just barely younger than him and fully grown, an adult with a right to make decisions for himself. Big Macintosh had stolen that right by whisking him away from Ponyville. He wasn’t a knight in shining armor for Caramel, but just one pony. One pony who loved him as much as he could, but still just one. It wasn’t his right to decide what was best for Caramel.

“I didn’t want to run away,” Caramel said. “From her and Ponyville. I didn’t want to. I thought that it was wrong or selfish and hiding or… I don’t know. I thought that because she was my mom I had to stay put and take it.”

Big Macintosh’s ears went flat against his head in shame.

“But I’m glad you convinced me otherwise,” Caramel said.

“Sugar, I… I shoulda known what you wanted,” Big Macintosh said. “Don’t say that to make me feel better.”

No.” Caramel shook his head. “That’s it, Mac. I don’t think this is my problem anymore. This isn’t about what’s best for Caramel, it’s about what’s best for Caramel and Big Macintosh.”

Big Macintosh felt his grip on Caramel’s hoof loosen. He stared at Caramel in the dark of night lit only by the bright moon and stars above. His face was streaked with wet tears but he looked firmer now. Stronger than Big Macintosh thought he looked a moment before. The way he said their names, as if they were a single unit and not just one.

Together. That’s right, they were together.

“You care about me,” Caramel said. He said it slow, like it was a struggle. When it came out he cast his eyes away, that look of strength slipping slightly. “You did what you thought you had to for me. It’s why you brought me here. I’m not at the reunion just for you, right?”

“No,” Big Macintosh shook his head. “You’re here for… for us, Sugarcube. Because I love you and want everypony to know.”

“Yeah,” Caramel shook his head and wiped his eyes. “We’re us now. I thought… I thought I had to cower at home with Sage because I had to. Because she was right and… and nopony cared about me.”

Big Macintosh looked at Caramel, desperately wanting to kiss him.

“I care about you,” Big Macintosh said.

“I don’t need her,” Caramel nodded his head when he spoke, closing his eyes as he chanted it to himself. “I don’t need her. I don’t need to take it anymore.”

When he finally opened his eyes, he looked happier. Big Macintosh couldn’t take it any longer and leaned in.

They kissed. They fell back onto their mess of blankets. Caramel’s cheeks were wet and rubbed off on Mac, but he had stopped crying. Big Macintosh squeezed Caramel, holding him close. He felt himself pant when they parted but went right back. The fire was returning, and fast, but it was different. Not desperate or in heat, but wanting to be a part of Caramel. To go slow, and easy, and make sure to show with actions stronger than words how deeply he cared and loved Caramel. Caramel had done the talking for now, but it was Big Macintosh’s turn to return the favor in his own language. The language he could speak only physically.

Big Macintosh kissed Caramel’s neck, not quite sure how he ended up there, and a slight moan escaped Caramel’s mouth that vibrated his entire body.

Not just Big Macintosh. He thought to himself. Caramel and Big Macintosh.

Caramel was right. This wasn’t his own problem or Caramel’s problem, but their shared problem as a couple to tackle together. He might not have handled it perfectly, and he would strive to be better, but they were together now, stronger than they had ever before.

In that moment, with the heat of Caramel’s entire body pressed to him, he knew that he never wanted to let Caramel go.

Not even for a second.