//------------------------------// // 2 - A Fancy Winter // Story: Hoity: The Untold Story // by CrackedInkWell //------------------------------// By 3:30 in the afternoon, the final bell rang to signal the end of a school day. Most of the students went out the doors to go home, but for a few, there were still a few things left to be done. The athletes headed toward the grassy fields, the more intelligent students went toward the laboratories, and Hoity was heading down a hallway toward a corner of the school. This particular hallway holds the school’s more artistic classrooms that ranged from the orchestra, choir, photography, drama, metal and wood shops, and the art studios at the very back.  Hoity found room 909. He had never been into this room before, with the name of a teacher he never heard of that was on the door. Yet, through the glass panels, he can see the movement of students going about. He turned on the doorknob and pulled it open to see a wonderful sight. It was an open room that had color, light, and chatter. He saw works of art in the midst of their creation from paintings to sculptures. There were rows of fabrics from the ceiling that was see-through enough to cast rows of colors on the floor. He saw over a dozen students discussing and giving suggestions on several works and how to arrange them. There were poets that were commenting on a painting. A painter reading over a short story. A writer over a sculpture. And a musician giving feedback to a colt with a camera. The sense of this room was alive and buzzing with possibilities. But he then found what he was looking for - Fancy Pants, he was by a student he had never seen before. A red earth pony that had a film reel as a cutie mark. They were looking through a few strips of film over a light table and a magnifying glass. He was steadying himself as he walked over to them. Fancy looked up, “Ah, you made it! You’re just in time.” “For what?” “We need your opinion on this. This is Handy Red, he’s learning about how to make his first short film. Handy, this is the fashion colt I was talking about.” “Huh?” Handy looked up from the magnifying glass and… Well, Hoity wasn’t sure what happened because one moment, Handy was giving him an odd look. It wasn’t a bad look from his pink eyes but there was a sparkle in them as they got big. Then the next, he unexpectedly said, “U-Uh excuse me!” and suddenly left the classroom.  Hoity blinked, “What was that all about?” “I’m not sure, that was the first time I saw him do that. Hope he’s alright.” “Yes,” Hoity cleared his throat. “So… I’m here. What do we do now?” “Well, first of all, let me say welcome to the club. Before I show you around, I should make clear what this club is about. Here in the Designers Club, we are not only here to make art and critique it, but more importantly, to learn about aspects of design in its many forms and fields. Because here, we think that everyone has something they can learn from each other’s craft. We offer a wide variety of points of view that we hope can help you improve whatever art form you want to go in.” “So in other words, not only will I be learning about various areas of design, but I would be able to teach everyone else as well.” “That’s the idea. Come, let me show you around and have you meet everyone.” And so, Fancy introduced Hoity to the other members of the club. There was Light Prose which specializes in freestyle poetry. An abstract painter named Wild Vision used bright colors in his works. There was Mythic Swing who improvised on the cello. There was a sculpture, Pearl Dawn, which used clay and wire to sculpt fantastical trees. There Marble Beat was asking about what a character would do for her story. It was difficult for Hoity to keep track some of the time but the works they were creating spoke to him. From the rhythmic flow of poetry to the bold colors, he was getting inspiration for ideas of clothes he could do. After introducing everyone, Fancy asked, “So what do you think?” “This place is wonderful. I’m getting so many ideas from these ponies. I wish I could get to work right away.” “If you could wait until tomorrow, I can bring you what you need… So, what do you need? Besides fabric, of course.” “I can write you a list, but there is one question I have.” “Yes?” “Why are you here? Please don’t take offense, but being in a room of these creative students, what part do you play?” “I have a few roles to play here. For example, I get the supplies for everyone here from paint to gathering film. Secondly, even though I’m not much of an artist myself, I think that giving an outsider’s opinion would help as a way to give them a sense of direction. And thirdly, I’m the president of the club.”  “Ah, so you juggle a lot, huh Mr. President.” “Please, call me Fancy.” Fancy laughed, “So what do you think?” Hoity said that he would gladly be a member. For once, he felt he found a place where he could really shine. As promised, Fancy did bring the necessary supplies the next day, and Hoity went straight to work. Made sketches before cutting out patterns with the cloths of satin, cotton, and polyester, and began making some colorful clothing. Later on, Hoity would admit that the students were a tremendous help as they suggested ideas that he hadn't considered before. Such as looking up the fashions of the past to incorporate into his work. Or the idea of using rhythmic patterns and unique color combinations. At the same time, however, he would now and then give his opinion about the elements of the design of the other students. It was from them that he would learn about the importance of line, balance, shape, contrast, color, value, movement, form, pattern, texture, rhythm, space, unity, order, composition, tone, symmetry, and harmony. It was surprising how much he could learn from other mediums that would influence his own. It really was a win-win, Hoity would be in the perfect environment to tailor his own clothes, and he wouldn’t have to… borrow old ones anymore.  What’s more, he gets to see Fancy every day. And more importantly, he speaks to him every day. “At times I wonder how you do it,” Fancy told him one day. “What?” “How are you able to make these clothes so quickly?” When Fancy brought it up, Hoity was working on the sleeve of an overcoat that he had seen in a history book, one that had big cuffs and lots of buttons. “What can I say? To make great works of art, you have to put the work into it. Besides, it doesn’t take long for me to make these.” “Even without magic, it’s impressive.” “So you like it? Even though it’s not finished.” “I bet it will be stunning when it does get done.” Hoity blushed at the compliment. “Maybe one of these days I should be asking you to make my clothes.” “What? Oh no, I couldn’t possibly-” “Why not? I mean you’ve been turning out with these every couple of days. I can even pay you if you like. Besides, I wouldn’t mind having one of your creations on me.” Hoity stared at him, “Are you serious?” “I like what you make, and I wouldn’t mind having a few of my own.” Setting his work aside, Hoity didn’t know how to respond at first. His crush was asking him to make a few clothes for him! Already he was getting dozens and dozens of ideas for what he could create. “I don’t know what size clothes you wear.” “Do you have a tape measure?” Looking at his work area, he picked it up.  “Well,” Fancy sat on his hunches and stretched his forelegs out, “measure me.” The mere thought that to do so he would have to touch him took every ounce of self-control that Hoity could muster. Taking in a deep breath, Hoity walked behind Fancy, unraveling the measuring tape, he at first started to measure out the forelegs. How long they were from the neck to the hoof, how thick they were all the way around. Then he measured his neck where he had to be careful not to choke him. Then the next part he had to really contain himself. Placing one hoof at the base of his neck, he measured with the other down his back, just above his flank. Next, he measured his torso in three different areas: the waist, above his stomach but above his ribcage, and just underneath the forelegs at his withers.  He wouldn’t say it aloud, but Hoity being able to get a teasing touch of this close-to-perfect body was almost too much for him. To where he could feel the just right tone muscle underneath the clothes, to have him wrap around his withers, and coming mere inches away from his god-like flank - he was praying that Fancy didn’t notice his embarrassed blush.  “I hope I’m not too fat to work with,” Fancy joked. “What? Oh no, no! You’re perfect.” Hoity said without thinking, but upon realizing what he just said quickly added, “To work with!” Hoping that Fancy didn’t notice. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever had clothes tailored for me before.” “But… aren’t your family rich?” “Yes, but we usually buy our clothes already made, you see. But this is a first to have it be costume made.” Getting the last of the measurements, Hoity asked, “Why did you ask if you were fat?” “Partly because I wanted to break the silence, and partly because I’ve been working out after school. Father said it’s important that I need to take care of myself.” “Oh… Well, I think you’re in good shape.” “Yes, but I’m not exactly a bodybuilder type. You know? I don’t consider myself an athlete or anything.” “You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Hoity said, rolling up the measuring tape. “I would kill to have… what you have.” Then a thought came to him. “Fancy, would you mind if I cut out patterns for you?” “What does that mean?” “It means that I want to use some paper to trace out certain parts and cut them out. That way I have a good idea of how big I should make your clothes.” That was partly true, but really, it was more of an excuse to have his hooves all over Fancy again. Getting out some thin paper, Hoity proceeded to trace several patterns over Fancy’s body. Making rough outlines over his shoulder blades, his back, across his strong withers where he could feel his heart, and feeling just above his waistline.  “What do you have in mind for me?” Fancy asked, “Do you have any ideas?” “Several. You’ve given me a lot to work with, but I am sure of one thing though.” “And what’s that?” Picking up a piece of blue satan, he held it up to where it touched Fancy’s cheek, “Yep,” Hoity nodded, “Blue is unquestionably your color.”  Then he got to work designing Fancy’s new clothes.  If Hoity was being honest, the measurements would have been enough. He could easily start making them without asking Fancy for anything further. However, it did give him an opportunity to touch his crush. To have his hoof brush up against his soft fur, or to feel the pulse of his heartbeat. Unlike his own clothes, he took more time when making Fancy’s. Every so often he would ask Fancy to come by to “double-check” his work. To place the pieces up against him to both make sure it would be the right size, and partly to trace over those areas. It may have been under-hoofed, no doubt, but then again, he wanted to make sure that what he created would fit him comfortably.  Every school day after class, Hoity would come to the club to work further on his creations - as well as stitching up Fancy’s clothes as well. Even with the added workload that took up more time, Hoity didn’t mind it. If anything, he was happy to do so to make sure that every detail was just right. Eventually, the club became his favorite part of the day where for once, he had something to look forward to. Of course, the extra projects did mean that he would have extra homework to carry around, especially when he would sleep over at his friends' homes. Then, one day about three weeks after he joined the Designers Club, Hoity decided to take a gamble. It was when the members had enough and started to head home that Hoity came up to Fancy who was always the last pony to close up the classroom when he said: “So, where do you go after class?” “It kinda depends on the day. Today I don’t have any plans or events to go to, so I’m going to go home.” “Oh, I see…” Hoity nodded. Taking in a deep breath when he stepped out of the classroom and Fancy locked the door he asked, “Do you mind if I asked you a favor?” “I guess so. What is it?” “Would it be too much trouble if I could come over to your place for the night?” Fancy paused, raising an eyebrow. “What for?” “Well… partly because I was hoping to maybe get your clothes done by tonight. And, partly because I wanted to hang out with you.” This was half true. Hoity was getting close to finishing his latest creation that Fancy was looking forward to. But at the same time, he hoped that maybe… just maybe… He could finally gain the courage to ask his crush out. “Do your parents know? Not that I would mind but would they be okay with you going to my place instead of home?” “They wouldn’t mind.” Hoity waved a dismissive hoof. “I’ve been going over to my friends' houses practically all the time. I’m old enough to make decisions on my own and they don’t care what I do just so I stay out of trouble.” “But having a sleepover over the weekend?” “As I said, I’m old enough to make my decisions.” “Well… If you’re sure about it. It’s just…” “What?” “I haven't ever had anyone ask me to have a sleepover since I was a colt… Nor has anyone asked to do so that isn’t on the weekend. But as long as I get some of my homework done, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have you over. Though I would need to get my things before we head over, do you need time to-” “I’m ready to go!” Hoity said, perhaps a little too quickly and eagerly. It caused an awkward moment where Fancy stared at him so he coughed in his hoof, “I mean… I’ve got everything I need with me.” “Then… I guess I shouldn’t keep you waiting.” In Hoity’s mind, this was a massive victory. Not only does he have someplace to go, but he’s going to spend the night over at his crush’s. Fancy on the other hoof needed to grab his saddlebag out of his locker, stuffing in his binder, textbooks, and his box of pencils before he had Hoity follow him outside.  Upon stepping out, they were greeted by a carriage with a stoic chauffeur by its side. A sleek carriage painted in shiny black, the chauffeur opened the side door where the inside was padded in white felt. After climbing into the carriage to take their seats, the chauffeur latched himself on and drove the carriage away from the school. Out from the windows, Hoity looked on as they went through the streets. Past shops and businesses, around parks, and eventually through an iron gate where he saw rows of magnificent mansions. Though they were next to one another, he couldn’t help but look up at three or four floors of buildings that were elegantly designed. Of has tall windows, columns that supported balconies, and walls that were painted brightly in whites, blues, pinks, silvers, and turquoise, each having roofs of porcelain that shine in the sun.  “I take it you’ve never been in this part of Canterlot before?” Fancy asked, his tone having a sense of amusement in his voice. “I didn’t know this place even existed. This is a marvelously gorgeous place. Where do you live?” “We’re nearly there, it’s only up the road.” He pointed vaguely. “This neighborhood is where a majority of Canterlot’s elite reside. Nearly everyone who is influential or wealthy enough to contribute to the city ends up living here.” “Really?” “With the exception of the Princess, anyone famous in Canterlot lives somewhere in these mansions. For example, that one over there,” he pointed to a mansion that had a gilded railing, “That one belongs to the Silvermanes who own the Bank of Canterlot, next door is the Ceasars that help with the delegation for the Princess, and next to that is the Emeralds which has a growing jewelry empire. Needless to say, these are the ponies that have a good deal of influence.” “So in other words, if you wanted to get ahead-” “These are the sort of connections that could make it happen. In a way, my parents know some of these ponies that, well, helped us end up here.” “Now that I think of it, I don’t think I’ve caught what your parents do.” “Well, a clue is in the name, Pants. My parents are basically entrepreneurs, mostly in the fashion industry where they seek designers for new trends. Have you ever heard of Wing?” “The magazine?” “More than that, they hire designers to come up with all sorts of things. I can imagine you probably get into that, being how creative you are.” Hoity tried to hide his growing goofy smile. “Ah, here we are.” The carriage pulled up to the mansion at the end of the street. They stepped out to a mansion that was built out of white marble. In Hoity’s mind, it almost resembled an ancient temple with its row of columns that held up the roof. There were tall windows with black shutters, a balcony that had a vine-like railing that encompassed the building, and at the very top was a large circular window just underneath the roof. There were twin fountains that guarded both sides of the steps that lead up to a patio that leads to the front door. Everything about it was perfectly symmetrical, harmonious, and huge. Hoity blinked, “You actually live here?” “Yes indeed. You may say it’s a bit old-fashioned, but there is a charm to the place, don’t you think?” “I’ll say… Your place certainly beats mine hooves down.” Fancy laughed as the carriage pulled up on the driveway, stopping in front of the stone steps. In a moment, the chauffeur unhitched himself and opened the door for the colts to step out. Leading the way, Fancy told Hoity that he could give him a tour of the mansion before tackling their projects.  Pressing through the double doors, Hoity walked into a world of refinement. The very first thing he saw was the twin staircase in an airy foyer. At his hooves was a circular black-and-white tile floor that spread out from the center like petals of a flower from the black grand piano. The walls were stainless white that had tapestries, a couple of landscape paintings, and enlarged photos that hang from the walls. His eyes drew upwards past the windows towards the chandelier that looked like a ballgown dress from a fantasy made up of sparkling stars. Such a space for Hoity was like entering a fine arts museum.  “Fancy, is that you?” They heard a mare’s voice that was coming from one of the halls. “Over here, mum,” Fancy called back. Hoity then saw the mother emerging into the foyer. A short mare compared to most, she was a yellow unicorn with a light blue curly mane. She had on a white shirt that looked as though she was about to play a game of tennis. Indeed, in her aura was a racket as she did some practice swing. “Tenis night with your friends, mum?” Fancy asked. “Well it is Friday,” She said, taking some swings. Hoity can’t help but notice that same Trottingham accent while she spoke. The mare paused when she spotted Hoity, “Who is this?” “He’s a friend of mine from school. This is Hoity Toity. Hoity, this is mum - Jean Pants.” “Huh… that’s new.” Jean eyed her son’s friend. “Usually you don’t bring ponies over.” “I asked him to,” Hoity said, “there’s a project that needs to get done and I really need his input that will take a while.” “Who's at the door?” They looked up when they heard this new voice. Descending from a nearby staircase was a stallion who was a white unicorn with a short turquoise mane with glasses. Compared to his wife, he was taller and thinner and spoke with a Prench accent. “This is my friend, Hoity Toity,” Fancy introduced him. “He’s going to be staying over the weekend to work on a project from school.” “Toity… nice name you have,” Fancy’s father went up to shake Hoity’s hoof. “I’m Khaki, Khaki Pants, CEO of Trouser.” “Hoity has a talent in tailoring, he’s really good at it.” “Is that so?” But before either colt could give an answer, Khaki looked at the clock, “Oh! But look at the time, I’m afraid we can’t stay long. We have a tennis torment that we must get to. Perhaps later on tonight we can pop in to see how you colts are doing.” “Behave yourselves now,” Jean said as they headed to the door. “Be sure to pick up after yourselves and dinner will be at seven. Goodbye, boys.”  And with that, Fancy’s parents were out the door before their son could say anything. Hoity blinked, “Are… your parents always like that?” “What?” “I don’t know… being a bit distracted?” “They usually are - but for good reason. Either they’re busy with work or making connections with whatever elite pony that would help make the business grow. Usually, it just leaves me to fill up my time. Still, since you’re here, I should give you that tour I promised. Follow me.” Fancy showed him around the mansion, from the living rooms that had newly made furniture to the dining room that had a long wooden table that had enough to sit at least twenty ponies all at once. He showed him the theater room where they had a projector with seats that massage you, to the pool room in the basement. While showing room after room after room, Hoity can’t help but notice that on top of being so elegant, the mansion seems so… empty. Besides spotting the occasional servant who was cleaning or polishing something, Fancy seemed to be the only one in such a massive place. With that remark from his parents about how unusual it was to bring a friend over, he started to wonder if Fancy really had friends at all. He was shown around from the game room at the basement level to the sunroom in the backyard where they grew tropical fruits such as mangos and bananas, and the ballroom on the top floor that had a massive window that looked out to the driveway, there was one space where Fancy saved for last. On the second floor in a corner that faced the garden of a backyard, Fancy took hold of a door handle with his aura and said, “Finally, this is my room,” and opened it. Stepping aside for Hoity to enter first, Hoity entered the bedroom of his crush. A place that had royal blue walls and white curtains that flanked the tall windows. Beside the queen-size bed that had a light blue cover over the satin white sheets were two nightstands that held up a stained-glass lamp. On the walls was a gallery of paintings of ponies in social settings like parties, picnics, concerts, or enjoying a sunny day. There were also some bookshelves that had little knick-knacks such as little statues of pottery from the other side of the world. There was also a white desk that was cluttered with papers, notes, and some books. He also spotted from a door that was ajar, a bathroom that was large enough to have a walk-in shower. For Hoity, being in the bedroom of his crush - and such a beautiful one at that - was a dream come true.  For that means that he has him all to himself. Once he unpacked his things, Hoity and Fancy set to work on their homework and projects from school. While Fancy went through study sheets and read through chapters from textbooks, Hoity insisted on working on his project on the floor. He did so for two reasons. First being so he could lay out his latest creation flatly and get a better view of what needed work before stitching. The other was so he could get some sneak glances up at Fancy while he sat. To have a… pleasant distraction while he worked. A couple of hours later when both colts had made progress on their work, Hoity chose this to be a little daring and spark up a conversation. “So…” “Hm?” “Do your… parents often leave you alone here?” “Well… sometimes. Mostly they’re off at the office or going to events for networking. Oftentimes they don’t come back until later around… seven or eight. In the past they came home earlier than that in time for dinner, but lately… they’ve been gone longer and longer.” “I’m sorry to hear that.” “But I know they’re doing it out of spite or anything like that. They have an important role that takes time and dedication - a lot of it. It’s not that I despise them for it, not at all. It’s just…” “They’re not… neglectful, are they?” “I wouldn’t go that far.” Fancy sighed, “But sometimes I wish they would be around more often. They say now and then they’re proud of me for taking up stuff like the Designers Club or trying to make friends at the Dining Club with ponies my age. Still… you have to fill your time somehow doing something. I guess I won’t be satisfied if I procrastinate. I always need to keep myself busy.” There was a pause, Hoity’s gaze turned towards his latest work. “.... Is it wrong that I envy you?” “What for?” “That you’d… have parents that still support you?” This got Fancy’s attention to look over his shoulder. “What do you mean?” “I mean… having parents that want to let you grow into what you want to… that you’d have parents that say they’ll support you no matter what… Even if they’re not around, you know that they’re glad to have you be their… son.” Another pause as Fancy turned towards Hoity who still hadn’t looked up yet. “Aren’t yours?” This time Hoity did look up and shook his head. “Not really… Quite the… opposite really. In fact, they… don’t know I’m here.” “What? At my house?” “No, I mean Canterlot. They don’t know I’m in Canterlot for months now.” Fancy blinked. He had never heard anything like this before and it was getting more concerning by the second. “I don’t understand.” “Fancy… had you ever wondered how is it that I’m always there at the school first thing in the morning before anyone else gets there? Have you ever wondered why I tend to ask to stay at friends' houses on the weekends? That’s because…” Hoity hesitated. He already had revealed so much and wasn’t sure what Fancy would do if he knew the rest of it. But… “The truth is… Is… I uh… I don’t… have anyplace to go.” “.... You mean you’re homeless?” Hoity nodded. Fancy got out of his chair and plotted down right in front of him. “But… How can this be? How did you even enroll in the school? Where did you get all the clothes from? How do you shower? Eat? Where do you go to sleep at night?” “That’s the thing… To get in, I had to lie my way in. I forged my parents' signatures so that I could be let in. As to where I sleep? Do you know backstage in the auditorium where all those costumes and props are?” Fancy nodded, “That’s where I get my clothes from. I modified them every night so that they wouldn’t look so… drabby on me. And when I’m not crashing at a friend’s house, I also sleep in there on a couch that’s in that room. During lunch, I tried to sneak in as much food as I could so that way I have something to eat later on. As for showers… Well, the gym is usually unoccupied at night.” “So wait, you mean to tell me that you’ve spent the last several months living in the school?” For a minute, Fancy’s mouth tried to say something but nothing came out. He had never heard anything like this before. He never knew anyone that was homeless in his life, and here was somepony who had hidden the fact he’s been trying to survive without letting on what was really going on.  “But…” Fancy finally was able to put into words what he was thinking, “But why go through all of this? Why run away?” Hoity frowned, “Because they don’t want me. Nopony in Ponyville wanted me. I ended up homeless because I said to my parents four, little, words.” “What could you possibly have said that they would-” “Mom, Dad, I’m gay.” In that moment of stunned silence where Fancy’s jaw dropped, he followed it up with. “Then came the six words Mom said to me while being pushed out of my home: Get out of my house, faggot.” “.... But that can’t-” “Don’t tell me it can’t happen! It did!” Hoity snapped at him but quickly froze when his crush reared back from his sudden shouting. “Nopony in my town wanted me after that. And I knew that if I stayed there… I would have no future there. None. I don’t think I would be alive now if I chose to stay there. So, with whatever I could find enough to pay for a train ticket, I came to the one place I’m sure I might have a future - Canterlot.” Fancy’s hooves over his mouth, he was nearly too shocked to talk, his eyes watering. “Celestia… Hoity… I didn’t know.” “I know… you’re the first to really know that about me.” Looking him in the eye, he asked, “You won’t… tell anyone about this… will you?” After another long minute, Fancy finally asked, “But… Why say this to me?” “Because if I let this out… I’d bet you that I will be dragged back to Ponyville. Back to the parents that disowned me in the first place. And I… don’t wanna go back. I’m telling you this because… well… I trust you. I trust you enough because you seem to be a pretty good guy to say this to.” Then a thought came to Fancy, “So… are you just going to keep hiding in the school?” “Only until I graduate. To get a job so I could get a place to live. Once I get independent enough to be on my own hooves I won’t be homeless anymore. I just need to endure this long enough to get my hoof through the door without anyone noticing.” Standing up on his hooves, Fancy at first didn’t say anything. His face was deep in thought and Hoity dreaded what he was going to do next. “What if you don’t have to?” “Don’t have to… what?” Hoity tilted his head. “You’re not telling everypony that I’m homeless, right?” “No. I don’t think you’ll have to be.” Facing Hoity, he said, “How’d you like to live with me?” Hoity could barely process what he was hearing. “At least, temporarily, of course. We have more guest rooms than we know what to do with here in the mansion. We have plenty of food and I can buy you new clothes so you don’t have to remodify the costumes from the school. Even better, we can have one of the rooms turn into a studio for you to work your magic in. Of course, we’ll have to tell my parents about your situation but I’m sure they’ll understand.” “.... You mean… You’re offering me a home?” “At least long enough for you to be on your own hooves. If that’s alright by you that is.” Now it was Hoity’s turn to be stunned. He didn’t think that his crush would have such a big heart to not just give him a place to live, but to give him everything he needs to thrive. It was more than having a room again with a bed and clothes to wear and a hot meal - so much more. He almost expected some cruel punchline to this offering of generosity and kindness… only, none came. Fancy was serious about this. Hoity had no idea what to say. All the ‘thank you’s’ in the universe couldn’t come close to what Fancy was doing for him. But he felt something very powerful deep down that choked his voice, but it compelled him to act. “Of course, it's only a matter of what room you want,” Fancy adds. “And if you don’t like the decor in the one you like we could always jus- MMPH!”  Fancy froze when the most unexpected thing in the world happened. His thoughts died on his lips the moment he realized that another was pressed up against his. Hoity was kissing him… and he froze. Not that he wasn’t kissed before but… he had no idea how to react to being so sudden. His friend’s hooves were wrapped around his head and Hoity’s eyes were closed while he was wide open in surprise. Fancy’s mind instantly went blank as the only thing he was aware, of was that Hoity was kissing him. It may have lasted a moment but was like centuries for him to process what was happening. He felt his breath was one with Hoity’s, his hooves shaking - should he push him away or hug him? Does he want to stop or… What was he doing? Did his head lean forward? Was he kissing back?