A pair of dragonflies landed on a tall blade of grass nearby. Rivet set the brake on the cart and fiddled with a wheel that was just a hair out of alignment while Fashion Plate set up his tripod. He sighed dreamily. “I’d say the first date went swimmingly, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Wouldn’t change a thing.” Rivet lightly stomped on a patch of grass to flatten it down, then looked back up and the tripod. “I thought you wanted it to be natural.”
“Just making use of my tools, love. Besides, I have to figure out some way to entertain myself while you’re setting up whatever it is you’re planning.”
Rivet shrugged. “Eh, no use in drawing out the suspense, I suppose.”
Fashion Plate slapped a hoof to his face. “No, no, no! Gah! This is why I could never get you on the red carpet.” He stomped up to Rivet, favoring his left hind leg. “Suspense! Desire! These are the tools of an artist!”
Rivet stepped behind the cart. He sat a hoof on the blanket covering the supplies. “But that just cuts into our time enjoying it.”
“My dear, sweet, hunky slab of a stallion,” Fashion Plate groaned. “Have I taught you nothing?”
Rivet nodded solemnly. “You’re right, Sparkles.” He took a step back and sat down. “How about you show me how it’s done, one more time. I’m a slow learner.”
Fashion Plate shook his head in mock disapproval. “You’ll get it one of these days, love. Just try to figure it out before the eulogy.”
Rivet swallowed. “I promise I will,” he mumbled. After a pause that felt a fraction of a moment too long, he nodded back at the cart. “So. Show me.”
“With pleasure!” Fashion Plate walked a brief circle around the cart. “The key is to divide their attention.” He paused with his butt towards Rivet and looked over his shoulder. A wicked, submissive look flashed across his face. “Show them something they want, something you know they would pounce on if given the chance.” He flicked his tail at the cart. “But then tempt them with something else.”
Rivet let a sensual smile creep across his face. “Oh, I’m plenty tempted already.”
“But you must keep the show going!” He slowly wheeled around to the opposite side of the cart, then spread his forelegs wide on the heavy blanket. He locked onto Rivet’s eyes with a smoldering gaze. “Tantalize them. Make them quiver.”
Rivet’s hoof twitched erratically. “I’m quivering, Sparkles. I’m quivering!”
“And only when they feel they’re about to burst….” He slowly moved a hoof to the corner of the heavy blanket. “...do you reveal…” He yanked it off. “The prize! …What?”
Beneath the red blanket was an orange one, and pinned to it was a piece of paper that read, “I know you like surprises….”
Fashion Plate stared at the paper, and Rivet stood and sauntered up next to him. “Hm,” he grunted, smugness oozing off his coat. “Wonder what that means.”
Fashion Plate lifted the blanket, and beneath it was a yellow one with another note. On it was written in fancy hoofwriting, “But you’ve always been the creative one…”
Rivet stood next to his husband and wrapped a foreleg around his shoulder. He kissed the side of Fashion Plate’s face. “I wonder how many layers there are.”
Fashion Plate wrinkled his nose at Rivet. He tried and failed to look angry. “Okay, you got me.”
Rivet just nodded. “Good, because I wasn’t going to let you keep going until you admitted it.”
Fashion Plate nuzzled Rivet under his chin. “Making a fool out of an old pony? You monster!”
Rivet nibbled Fashion Plate’s ear. “You like when I’m a monster.”
Fashion Plate shivered, but he turned his attention to the cart. He peeled back another layer to find a soft, green, fleece blanket. On this one sat another note with yet fancier hoofwriting. “And what’s that you’re always saying about creativity?”
With a glint in his eye, Fashion Plate said, “What indeed?” He turned and flashed a venomous grin. “You’re nervous you got it wrong.”
Rivet’s eyes flicked away. “Maybe.”
Fashion Plate straightened up and lectured, “Creativity is merely the art of finding new uses for old ideas.”
Rivet let out a held breath. “Uh-oh.”
“What!?” Fashion Plate ripped away the blanket and found a blue one underneath. This one’s note read, in the loopiest, most preposterous hoofwriting Fashion Plate had ever seen, “It’s just taking the old and making it new again in an exciting way.” Beneath that blanket was one more, purple this time. The note read, in a tiny parenthetical: “Really hope I got that right!”
Fashion Plate pulled back this final blanket and gasped. “It looks just like new!” Folded up perfectly was a massive quilt with patches arranged in diagonal rainbows. Many of the squares showed the fading of decades, but every little tear had been carefully hoof-stitched, strengthening the heavy covering to what it once was. “Is this the one from your grandmother? From after you came out?”
Rivet nodded. “Mm-hm. Had to replace a couple patches, but most of it is original.” He stopped Fashion Plate before he could pick it up. “Careful. There’s more.”
“I didn’t even know we still had this.” Fashion Plate squealed, “Ah! It’s like Hearth's Warming!" Gently, he picked up the ancient quilt and peeked beneath, where he saw…. “That’s the same pillow from our first apartment! And a bottle of sauvignon blanc!?”
“Look at the label.”
Fashion Plate picked up the bottle, and his jaw nearly hit the dirt. “Gilded Bluff Vineyards Fifty-One! You wicked colt, letting me drink at my age. Where did you even find this? And who fixed the quilt?”
Rivet kissed him again. “I did.”
Fashion Plate threw his forelegs around his husband as quickly as his body would allow. “You’re magic. That’s the only explanation.”
“Or I finally put my insomnia to good use.” He tugged at the dark circle under one of his eyes.
Fashion Plate pulled back and kissed the end of Rivet’s nose. “This all rings very familiar, you know.”
Rivet bowed his head so that his mane could brush against his husband’s face. “I wanted–” He cleared his throat and blinked away a tear. He took a breath. “I wanted you to know how much I’ve learned from you, even from those early years, and how much I still treasure it.”
+++++++++++++++
Mom thought I was crazy, moving in with you after just four dates. Dad figured it was like roommates, and he’d stayed with folks a whole lot sketchier than you.
Was that his idea of a compliment?
Just a matter of fact. I wish I could say that I was sad to leave Ponyville. Honestly, I’d been meaning to move someplace with more consistent work. Just needed an excuse. And I finally found a great one.
I was an “excuse?”
Yeah. A great one.
You’re worse than your father.
Maybe, but then again, he only had to raise one kid. I’d like to think I have a higher success rate.
Spotlight is remarkably polite. Wonder where in Tartarus she got that from.
You know, I listened to your story. Mostly.
Apologies. Continue!
Housing market the way it was, I have no idea how you found a place for us so quickly. I’d kept telling you I could sleep on your couch if your bed was too small. But you didn’t like that. You wanted us to be together every night, and if that meant packing up and moving all your fancy glass awards, it would be worth it. Or rather, you had enough friends and colleagues who could do it for you.
Networking!
I’ve moved probably a dozen times in my life, but that apartment on Fifth? Hoo, I’d never dreamed I’d be that high up. With the giant glass panes that let in the evening sun and the bright blue sky, I felt safe there, like I could escape the noise of the city and the job site every day if I needed to.
You’d already half-decorated the place by the time I arrived, too. Nothing too much, but enough to make it feel like ours. That abstract art square with our coat colors and cutie marks was my favorite, because… hm…
See, we would go through a lot of ponies in my line of work. They think it’s easy: just move stuff from one pile to another. But you had to be invested, and your attitude on day one pretty much set you up for the rest of your time on the site, be it long or short. And seeing that you’d already gotten art of us, well, it told me you’d bought in.
The first time I walked in with just two bags and some rolling luggage, the hardwood creaked under me, and I wondered if it was built to support a lug like myself. Of course, the rose petals you’d spread on the floor were quite the touch.
You were so coy. “Huh, must be a gift from the landlords.” You looked all around and tapped your chin. “How odd that it seems to make a trail to the bedroom.”
Back then, I didn’t know much about patience, so I scooped you up and rushed straight there. You had some big speech about how important it was to break in the new place properly, but you only got about a sentence in before I had you on your back with my tongue halfway down your throat. We had our fun, ate a cold dinner in bed, and decided that unpacking could wait.
Course, the world doesn’t stop for love. We both had work the next morning. You had to run through plans for the autumn holiday preview, and I had to report to a dig site for an excavation project before dawn. Tearing myself away from you felt like pulling velcro, and it seemed criminal to shower away that breezy, sweaty smell of yours, but we did what we had to.
Too bad my new boss was such an asshole. Steel Beam had been a foreman for about eight years at that point, and he went on and on and on about how this team wasn’t near as fast or accurate as his last one. Celestia-damn, I couldn’t tell if his voice was hoarse from twenty years of smoking or twenty years of yelling. Maybe both.
He tore into me at sunrise, two hours into the job, while I inspected one of the diggers. “Newbie, why ain’t that bucket in the ground yet?”
I took a breath and stood tall. And I reminded myself: day one attitude. “Sorry, sir. This is a much different model than I’m used to, and I want to run it through its paces to ensure–”
“I asked for an expert, not a frickin’ playground colt!”
He honestly said “frickin’?”
I’m sparing you the more colorful language.
Even though I wasn’t used to such rough treatment, I was ready for it. I stood my ground. “Sir, I was head of safety back in Ponyville, and we need to–”
“I don’t give a darn about some podunk nowhere town, scrub! Get movin’ dirt or get movin’ butt back to the rock you came from.”
I started up the machine, and fortunately, I could run through the rest of my inspection while getting at the topsoil. I hated it. We had a saying back in Ponyville: multitasking on the job, get ready for your head to throb. But I grit my teeth, and I did what I could. I wasn’t going to let him get to me.
We finished the day ahead of schedule, but we still got an earful from Steel. Something about how quotas and schedules are the bare minimum, and he could tell we were slacking, and he saw us taking an extra piss break. All sorts of nonsense.
What kept me going was thinking about seeing you again. I wanted to walk in, flop on top of you, and not get up until our stomachs grumbled.
But that wasn’t meant to be. I got home near sundown, and I knew even before I walked in that the apartment was empty. You’d thought ahead, though, like you always do, and you’d left a note. “Sorry, love! It’s going to be a late night. I grabbed a Cobb salad and a side of fortified oats for you, and there’s some ice cream in the freezer. I figured you could use a recharge on your protein~. Not fancy, but I want our first big meal here to be together! We’ll try again tomorrow.” You drew a little picture of yourself in the corner blowing a kiss, and even though my whole body felt like a sponge that was saturated with disappointment, it helped.
I tried real, real hard to stay up to say hi to you, but I hadn’t realized that the holiday preview would take you so late into night, and I passed out on the couch at around ten. When I woke up, you’d put a blanket on me and left me another note. “Go get ‘em, you beast! Just save some for me. I’ll need some attention later~”
I peeked into our bedroom, but you were out cold, and I wanted you to get your rest. I wrote you a note back that I left on the counter. “Just try and stop me, Sparkles.”
And that’s how the week went. I got up early, dashed to work, drove myself to exhaustion, and came back to the apartment to find another note and a few words to keep me riled up. Then I’d reply, crawl into bed, and sleep like the–… like a rock until my alarm went off. I’d get a groggy kiss here or there, but the whole week, I felt like a starving colt looking into the window of a candy store.
Friday was the worst. There was this younger stallion, Rebar, who tried to operate the smaller crane on his own. He was just certified the week prior, and he was supposed to still be accompanied, but Steel Beam pulled his partner away for jackhammer duty. It was already six at night, and the sun was going down, and we were all exhausted. Something was bound to happen.
Thankfully nopony was hurt when one of the cement loads clipped a steel cable, but seeing that beam falling towards me, my life flashed before my eyes.
The whole incident set us back nearly a day, plus the hours of screaming from Steel Beam. Poor Rebar was in tears by the end of it, and a whole lot of us stayed back to comfort him.
Steel Beam wouldn’t have any of that. “Kid doesn't know how to swing a bag around! I should rip his damn certificate up myself!”
Rebar trembled. “No! Please!”
I’d had enough. “Beam, lay the fuck off!”
Not sparing my ears?
I’m mad just thinking about it.
I got up in his face. “We’re ahead of schedule, staying late for no reason, and you’re still cutting corners! This wouldn’t have happened if you’d just followed protocol!”
Steel Beam didn’t like that. “You and that little tyke can kiss my ass, newbie! You have no idea what kinda bull I have to deal with while all y’all play in the sand and wreck my rocks!” He pressed his head against mine.
I gritted my teeth and stomped the earth. “I’ll wreck more than your rocks if you can’t get your head out your ass and stop endangering a kid who’s still learning!”
We pressed our foreheads against each other, ready to bite each other’s heads off, until Quartz and two of her friends finally pulled us apart. I’d nearly hit him, but thankfully they stepped in and I didn’t lose my job. Of course, the whole group of us helped Rebar fill out the incident report and wrote up testimonials about how it wasn’t his fault, and I stayed extra late to write up a Pony Resources complaint, but that just meant more hours at the site.
Rebar gave me a giant hug after it was done. He’d calmed down, which got my head back on straight, too. The guys wanted to buy me a beer, but by then it was almost nine, and I told them I just wanted to go hug my stallion. They all understood and promised to get me under the table sometime.
And… oof. I’m real sorry about that night.
You have nothing to apologize for.
But I do.
I dragged myself down the hallway, thumped my head against the door, and thought about just collapsing on the kitchen floor for the night. But when I opened the door, you were all ready to go. Despite how late I was, you perked right up as soon as I walked in. “Splendid! The hero of Equestria arrives to save his lonely stallion!”
I felt like I would fall over. “Hey, Sparkles. Hoo, I need to rest.”
“Nonsense!” You trotted up to me and gave me a giant kiss. “I had hoped to make the evening fountain show, but it runs weekly anyway. But that’s alright! There’s still plenty to do.”
My head shook on its own, like I was swatting invisible flies with my face. “Not tonight, honey.”
You nodded back at me. “Trust me, love. This will cheer you right up. And don’t worry! I bumped our reservation at Regalia – it’s this little tapas place, but you’ll love it, it’s actually quite filling – and there’s a skylight show by one of the Wonderbolt squadrons in the park tonight for the Autumn leaf-turning festival! If we rush, we can–”
I snorted. “Sparkles, please!”
You collapsed faster than that guide beam had, and my heart sank with it.
I felt my lip tremble. “Sparkles, sorry, I didn’t mean–”
You paused, like a pony dipping his hoof in a whole pool full of anger before leaping in. “Didn’t mean what?” you snapped. “Didn’t mean to yell at me as soon as you got in the door? Didn’t mean to shoot down all my plans to let us spend one night together this week?” Tears welled up in your eyes, and the facade of cheerfulness that you’d been working so hard to maintain finally broke. You kept grabbing the side of your head and touching your chest like you had a terrible pain. “Look, I’m sorry, Rivet, but I have a career, too, and this is just how it has to be! I have to work late sometimes! Do you think I’m happy with how early you have to get up, so that I can’t even kiss you goodbye?” You stood ramrod stiff and gritted your teeth at me. Through the sobs, you yelled, “I was trying to give us just one night, just one night to spend time together!”
My ears were so flat on my head that I thought they’d fused. “Sweetie, I’m sorry. It was a rough day, but you didn’t deserve that.”
Your eyes watered, which broke my heart in half again, and you threw your head back. “Ah!” You slammed a hoof to your head. “Where in Tartarus do I get off? Bad pony! Bad!” You smacked your forehead. “You work a physical job! What’s wrong with me? Of course you’re tired. I just… gah!”
I took a deep breath and took half a step forward. “You just what?” I said, gently as I could.
You threw yourself at me and held me tight, and feeling your chest against mine, I finally started to unwind. “I had all these plans, and…” You groaned and said, “It’s your first weekend in Manehattan. I just wanted to show you around and make you feel at home.”
I hugged you back. “I want to feel at home, too, but… Hoo, I don’t have the energy you do. I just want to spend time with you. And…” I dug down deep. Sure, I was exhausted, but it wrecked me seeing you so heartbroken. You were worth more than all the sleep I could want. “You unwind by going into the city, right? Maybe…”
You pulled back and looked me square in the eye. “No. You are not pulling a self-sacrifice thing right now, no matter how much you think I need it.”
I frowned. “You had a rough week, too?”
Your ears folded down, and you mumbled, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
I nuzzled your face. “Sparkles, we’ve done nothing but ‘not talk’ all week. I want to be with you.” I jerked my head back towards the door. “Not out there. Just with you. You’re the reason I’m here.”
You sighed and looked up at me with bright, shining eyes, and we rested against each other’s heads. “And I want to show how wonderful this place can be.”
We paused. It felt like we were so far away, like I was still stuck in Ponyville and missing you every night. We’d made a big move, but we still felt so separate.
I couldn’t stand that. So, I moved my hoof to touch yours. “Sorry I can’t take it all in at once.”
We paused again.
I shrugged. “Maybe I need just a little bit at a time, not all at once.”
You chuckled bitterly. “Fashion Plate? Overdoing it from the get-go? Shocking!”
With a kiss on your forehead, I said, “Just… what’s your favorite place around here? Know anything quick, within a block or so?”
“Rice Noodle’s Dumpling Palace.” You finally looked at me again. “It’s authentic. Just like Shangneigh, but it is not fancy.”
“I don’t need fancy,” I sighed. “I just need you.”
You closed your eyes and relaxed, and seeing you unwind worked magic on me, too.
I kissed you again, because I can never, ever stop. “How about we get some of those dumplings, cuddle up on the couch, and bitch about work?”
You smiled. “I knew I’d married a genius.”
I cocked an eye. “We’re not married yet, Sparkles.”
“Eh, I give it a year until you decide you can’t live without me.”
I pulled you in for a hug. “I’m guessing eight months.”
“Let's call it ten.” You kissed my nose. “I’ll get the food. Not to make your life harder, but this whole apartment is missing your masculine aesthetic touch.”
“Did you forget I like to crochet?”
“Crochet can be masculine!” you whined. “How about unpacking something you love? Then just get comfy and rest, and I’ll be back to stuff your mouth with some soft, salty balls.”
And we did just that. I unpacked this quilt, which still smells like my grandma’s perfume, and fought to stay awake beneath it. You were back in fifteen minutes with dumplings and sides, and you pulled a bottle of wine off your wine rack.
The Gilded Bluff New Batch. Same year as this bottle.
As tired as we were, we stayed up until three or so, feeding each other, catching up… And for the first time that week, I felt like our relationship could really work.
Because Celestia be damned, we were going to make it work!
Heh heh. Yeah. So, cheers to us. Lemme pour you a glass.
Certainly! But…
Yeah?
Didn’t we decide that this wine tasted terrible?
Well, maybe our taste buds have changed in fifty-one years.
Worth a shot. To your health!
And to love beyond this lifetime. Cheers!
…
…
…
Nope! Still atrocious!
Ah, well. Maybe in another half-century.
+++++++++++++++