The morning sun's rays were blocked by the storm clouds lingering from the middle of the night. The weather team must have been behind. Nevertheless, Caramel roused himself to see where he was, sleepily jostling his head to clear his thoughts. He was in a bed...a very nice one, at that. What had happened last night? Was he so tired that he passed out in front of a hotel in a deranged stupor? He saw blue walls, a green ceiling, a misted window...whatever had happened, he certainly was not in the old barn anymore. He groaned at the thought of making an excuse for the poor hotel owners.
“Mnngh.”
“GAH!”
THUD.
“*snort* WHU-WHUT?! WHUT'S GOIN' ON?!”
The no-longer-groggy pony pulled himself off the floor and made himself take a deep breath. It was just Big Macintosh.
Wait...
Oh.
OH!
Caramel felt himself blushing as he recalled the events of the previous day. The same pony who got him a room indefinitely was staring at him with wide eyes and without a blanket. Sheepishly, he untangled himself from it and threw it back onto the bed. He was mostly just glad he had showered before wrapping himself in it, as well as before formally meeting the Oranges. He remembered nodding and smiling at the "appropriate occasions" at the lavish dinner (fruit salad and crepes; it was like he had died), trying not to look left or right. Other than that, he just ate and went up to bed. Nothing happened. Macintosh came up to the room later and slipped into bed next to him. Nothing happened; they were both extremely tired, and for more than one reason.
Apparently, Big Mac wore his yoke to bed. Maybe it cushioned his neck...? It certainly made him look more muscular...ahem.
“U-Um...good morning, Mac. Sorry I startled ya.”
Mac blinked a couple of times, then rubbed his head.
“Mornin'. You okay?”
His blush deepened. What a way to wake up the boyfriend.
“Yeah. I just...forgot where I was for a second.”
His bedmate gave a confused chuckle, then glanced around through heavy-lidded eyes.
“Just whut time 'zit anyway?”
Mel looked around Mac's room, finally settling on the partially shadowed clock. It was shaped like a navel orange, which to its credit matched with the blue walls nicely. It was difficult to read, though.
“Eight fifteen...? No, Eight twenty, sorry.”
“That late?!”, Mac shouted before scrambling to get off the bed. “Ah've got work t'do! Th' fields are still idle with everythin' that happened--”
“Whoa whoa, slow down!”, Mel cut him off. “Isn't today the Pegasus Race? Your family's probably gone to cheer Fluttershy on—you have a beard!”
Big Macintosh turned around and actually tilted his head. He looked like Winona...except for the red part...and he was much bigger...plus his white facial hair wasn't dog-like...so really, he didn't look like her at all. Caramel giggled.
“...Eeyup...'zat a surprise? Colts grow facial hair. Don' you?”
Mel went to rubbing his muzzle, the sarcasm not lost on him. It felt as smooth as the day he was born.
“Nah. Never had to shave once. I just have a naturally smooth face, and I thought you did, too.”
“Nnope...Ah'm gonna shave real quick.” The scruffy pony meandered to the adjoining bathroom.
“Oh, don't do it because of me! I kinda like it with--”
“Ah'm not”, he called out before shutting the door, “...but Ah'll remember that.”
It was then that it hit him in full force. He was living with Big Macintosh, albeit temporarily.
He was in a relationship with Big Macintosh.
He was seeing him from all angles.
It was really happening.
Wow...
While his new boyfriend did his morning ritual, Caramel took the time to examine the room further (the night before, he just went straight for the bed and didn't look back.) Not taking charm into account, it was unremarkable except for a raggedy old doll on the single drawer there. It looked far too old to still be there, but he supposed Macintosh was the type to hold onto old things. Always better to keep using what worked, right?
It almost looked strangely familiar...
Meh, it wasn't important.
Mac came out after a few minutes, fresh and smooth and...gracious. Mel swallowed for control's sake.
Come on, don't rush it. Just...just make smalltalk.
“It's lucky today's the Race so you can relax a little. They'll be there all morning.”
“Eeyup.”
Eeyup? You were talking my ear off in the barn! Work with me!
“...I guess it's also nice not to wake up with the sun in your eyes. That always annoyed me.”
Mac shrugged...this was just getting awkward now.
Mel decided to walk up next to him, nuzzling above the yoke and getting a sleepy smile in return. He edged himself forward and pulled Mac down for a kiss. Seeing a compromise with himself, Mel turned it into an intimate mouth-to-mouth exploration, sliding to the floor with a deep-throated moan. Evidently Mac had learned much from last night, not making Mel gag even once. It was just...a nice way to start their morning.
Well, apart from the screaming.
Five minutes later, they parted and stood up together.
“Um...I guess we better get to the Forest.”
The diligent farm pony hesitated.
“Um...Ah dunno. Ah wuzn't kiddin' 'bout th' fields. They really do need t'get ploughed, the rest of them, that is. Ah know t'ain't polite, but we need that food.”
“Oh...alright, then”, the handicapped pony accepted. “So...”
“Hm?”, Mac prompted while looking to the fields in question through the window.
“If you're going that route...I guess figurin' out how to get me a job skill will have to wait?”
Mac turned around and looked to the ceiling for thought's sake. Either that, or he was frustrated?
“We can do both.”
A shock of elation revived Mel's body as he drank in the sight of his lover. Strong, masculine, thoughtful, reasonable, dedicated...he closed the distance between them and gave him a peck.
“I love you.”
Macintosh gave a longer kiss in return. It meant something different when it was offered to him...it was just sweeter.
“Ah...Ah've dreamed about you saying that t'me, you know.”
The dream pony melted at the thought, nuzzling his stud. Some of his own dreams were of snagging Big Macintosh (wearing a suit, for some reason) with a gigantic shoe, catching him in midair and laying a big, fat one on him. The other dreams he had were...well, they weren't that nice.
Even though he wasn't wearing a suit, Mac nibbled on his left ear before he whispered: “I love you, too.”
The stallion's voice shook him to the core. Even as much as he knew that, just hearing the words made him so thoroughly happy. Not to mention something about his left ear was very sensitive, especially when somepony whispered into it. The last time somepony whispered in that ear was...that one time. He quickly killed that line of thought and just focused on the thrill running through him.
He managed to contain himself as they went to eat. Both of them were lacking for conversation, funnily enough.
As they finished breakfast, Mel was feeling a little playful.
“So didja dream about me declaring my love just earlier?”, he teased.
Mac suddenly looked embarrassed, but then he just grinned. “Among other things...”
Okay, he wasn't expecting that. Caramel parsed the phrase as many ways as he could as they walked out of the room and out of the house...and then it hit him.
“Oh, that's gross, hon,” he chided.
Big Mac waggled his eyebrows. Caramel was starting to believe the stadium personality and the farm personality were much closer than he thought.
“If'n you don' like that stuff, then yer not ready fer a relationship, sugarbear.”
“Touchè. And never call me that again.”
“Ah can do that, if'n you never call me 'hon' again.”
“What, really?”
“...It jus' bothers me. Ah cain't say why.”
“Huh. Whatever...what if I called you 'Mac Daddy'?”
“Now yer just bein' absurd. Ah'm not ready fer kids.”
They had made it to the idle field much quicker than Caramel thought it would have taken. He didn't realize just how close this field was to the old barn...he really saw it for how ratty it was now. The holes in the roof weren't visible, but they painted even more of a bitter picture for him. The field itself stood before all the "useless" sections the Oranges didn't look at more than once, as he understood the situation. Maybe they wanted the orange trees where everypony could see them, something silly like that.
The soil was freshly wet with the occasional earthworm wriggling holes into it. Just as Macintosh said, it needed to be ploughed and seeded. The real question was just in what way were they going to test his curse. A rusted plough sat just on the edge of the first section. Maybe he would finally be able to pull one when this was done.
The sky was cleared, and the sun was shining merrily as per usual.
“Ah'll get some bales out here. Just sit tight.”
“Bales? You sure about that?”
“Ah wanna git a better look.”
Caramel complied, not that he could have done anything else. He found himself actually sitting just before the field, listening to the odd songbird. They certainly didn't have to worry about making bits...or not ruining whatever they perched on. They just had to sing to their potential mates, without fear or doubt pestering them. His mane was ruffled by the damp wind. It was amazing how lonely he could feel even when he would have company in just a moment.
BAM!
BAM!
BAM!
Before he had time to react, Caramel was surrounded on both sides by two large square bales and had a third one right above him. Mac must have thought it was funny to throw them like that. Who knew what was going on in that strange pony's head?
Big Macintosh came galloping over, or at least that's what Mel inferred from his hearing.
“Sorry! Ah didn't mean t'box you in, heh heh!”
“You did that on purpose.”
“Maybe.”
“Why?”
“Cuz yer cute when yer flustered.”
“...Well, I'm more exasperated than 'flustered'.”
“Yer also cute when yer 'zasperated.”
“...Really? That's a new one.”
“Eeyup; yer just generally cute. Now lemme get these off you.”
“Oh, don't bother, I can just--”
“Nnope,” Macintosh interrupted. “Ah need t'see it...Jus' wait.”
Inexplicably, Caramel felt his anxiety spike as the bales were hefted away from him. He had the strangest fear they were going to discover something horrible.
“Okay,” his lover continued, “now do whut you did before to th' one on yer left.”
But as he walked up to the bale in question, he felt the need to say: “You know...you've been talking a lot more, lately.”
Mac shrugged.
After a hard swallow, Caramel tentatively brought his left hoof to the dense grain. He held it there for a while, afraid to press any further. It didn't matter though, as even his inert hoof seemed to be making the bale break apart into loose hay, albeit more slowly. In just seven seconds, it was completely broken.
“Heavens t'Betsy...Ah thought you said you could write an' junk.”
Mel shrugged.
“I guess my hoof just doesn't like hay.”
He turned around to see Big Macintosh completely stunned. The champion's face was pale, or as pale as a red face could get, while his own face was surely growing a deep blush. He had forgotten how unsettling the phenomenon was after all this time.
“As for the writing bit...only about half the time. I can never tell.”
They remained silent for a length of time neither was willing to measure.
He had to ease the tension. This was exactly the reason he didn't want to tell anypony about himself...or at least he was pretty sure that was the reason. His mind tended to fold in on itself when he thought about it.
“Well..you could break a bale pretty easily, too!”
Mac was not amused.
“Well, yeah, if'n Ah bucked it! Not by resting mah hoof on it! That's just...that's...oh, Caramel...”
The pony of ruin felt a familiar depression on the edge of his heart. He took a long, slow breath to stave it off, opting to look at his stallion sympathizing with him.
He had a boyfriend...and what a boyfriend. He must have been doing something right. And if he was doing that something right...who was to say they couldn't overcome this? For the first time in far too long...he actually felt the barest hint of hope. Life was going to get better, even if it took him forever.
Two minutes later, his boyfriend cleared his throat.
“Well...'zit the same fer every hoof?”
---
Macintosh got to ploughing as his colt demonstrated each hoof's destructive property on the hay. After he quickly and continually rebuilt them into round bales, he would look back occasionally to see body slams, tail whips, headbutts, snorts, exhalations, every technique feasible for tearing the rebuilt hay down every time. It was clear this condition afflicted Caramel's entire body. It was also clear if he hadn't come to his aid sooner, Mel might not have been there to become his boyfriend.
Eventually, he stopped looking and just kept his eyes on the ploughing. Not that it made a difference; just hearing it made him cringe. The plough gave him more and more resistance as he carried on.
Eventually, he had had enough.
“Caramel?”
The destroyer looked up from the new hay pile, created from laying on top of it, dear skies above.
“Yeah?”
“Ah...Ah think that's enough fer today. It's clear whut we're dealing with here.”
“Oh, come on,” Caramel complained. “I think I was on to something with the stomach.”
Mac suspected something decidedly strange. It scared him just to think about it and angered him from the implication.
“You weren't...enjoyin' ruinin' th' hay, were you?”
Mel smiled and returned with: “Am I not allowed to?”
That's our food...or it woulda been if'n it weren't so old! An' yer supposed t'be findin' a clue!
"How can you--"
“Well, you try doing that for half an hour. You'd want to make something out of it, too. Heh heh. My favorite one was just barreling straight into it. It was everywhere and your face was--”
ROOOOOOOOOAR!
“What in Celestia's name was that?!”
Mac hastily scanned the area to locate the roar. As best he could tell, it had come from the Everfree Forest. He pointed in that direction.
“The forest? That would mean...”
“Fluttershy won?”
“...I dunno; they sounded pretty angry. Maybe she lost...?”
“Hmm...”
“Well, we'll go over later and congratulate her. Or offer our condolences.”
“...Eeyup.”
With that, Mac finished up ploughing the field, as much as the plough seemed to forbid it. It was time for seeding.
He started heading for the stockpile when he heard: “Hey, wait.”
He turned around, feeling an inexplicable anxiety down in his stomach.
“Hmm?”
“Are...are you sure your family's okay with us? With me?”
Oh, 'zat all? Sheesh. Yer cute when yer paranoid, too.
“Eeyup.” He smiled at the affirmation.
“Good...then what about the townsponies? They can be--”
“We'll be careful. It'll be fine,” he reassured, smiling even wider. He turned back toward the seed storage.
They really would be fine...yeah. They just had to be careful.
This was going to work.
Eeyup.
Big Macintosh searched for the hayseeds within the stockpile, letting his mind wander. It was readily understood that Mel would just sit by the field and watch, to avoid any incident. In retrospect, the constant spilling and dislocation of seeds during Winter Wrap Up made sense to him now. A normal klutz would have just dropped them in one place, but those seeds completely vanished. Perhaps they shriveled up and blew away...?
Maybe that's why he didn't attend the one this year; he was just too much of a liability. It depressed Mac so much not to see Caramel there that he couldn't finish the field work. It stung, too, because everypony else was working so hard on the other tasks, yet the fields ended up neglected. At least the mystery was solved now.
With the seeds in tow, Mac started heading out of the stockpile when it was buffeted by a massive surge of wind. He cringed as the wood creaked and bent under the pressure...but what made him jump was when the stockpile as a whole was pushed to the left. It took a great deal of effort to make sure his seeds didn't ironically fly out onto the ground.
A little shaken and wild eyed, the seed sower walked out of the buffeted shack to see that his seated audience was much more wild eyed than he, pupils fully dilated and staring at the sky. For some unfathomable reason, three butterflies were resting in his hair. There weren't any butterflies in this area, so their presence made the former wide eyed out of sheer confusion.
“It...it was...”, Caramel gasped, “it was like nothing I've ever seen before. I...I can't even describe it.”
“...Mml?” He set the seeds down for the moment.
“T-there were so many colors...it was like my eyes went on vacation.”
“Mel, what the hells happened?!”
The pony plus butterflies blinked, then returned to normalcy...or at least he hoped that was the case.
“I honestly don't know. It went by too quickly. All I can say is that it was big, and colorful, and weird.”
Two of the butterflies fluttered away, while the remainder pulled Caramel's mane back to how it looked before the...thing. It then fluttered off to its waiting fellows.
“So...Ah'll go plant these seeds,” said Macintosh as he picked them back up.
“You do that," said Caramel.
Halfway through planting the seeds, Caramel seemed completely back to normal. Mac saw him pacing up and down the perimeter of the field, being careful not to get too close. His chest tightened at the fact the pony had to do that at all...that sort of affliction should not have existed. He found himself marveling at how Mel managed to scrape by without asking for help for so long. It was a worthy question among many others he had.
Mac seized the opportunity, taking the lanyard out of his mouth and putting it around his neck. Inconvenient though it was, he could still seed the fields that way, and this was too good of an opportunity.
“So...you really lived in that old barn fer a year?”
Caramel kept pacing...that was a weird drift he had. Huh. Well, he fixed it quick enough. Maybe that was why running was difficult for the pretty pony.
“Sure did. It wasn't that bad, really. Nopony bothered me, food was plentiful, the rainwater was...well, it was there. I made do.”
Mac felt his throat tighten at the way Mel said he "made do." Just thinking about all that time he spent alone made him testy. The little pony needed to start being honest today.
“Mmhmm. So you lived there durin' Winter Wrap-Up an' everythin'?” He felt his seed box tremble, but got a hold of it.
“Nngh...yeah, yeah, I did. I lived there for the last one, too. I would've told you, but I was just too distracted, and...yeah, distracted.”
Macintosh squinted at his little stallion. He wanted to press for details...but ultimately decided to drop it. All he needed to know it there was no good reason for it.
“Uh-huh. An' you exhausted every job avenue there is?”
“O-ho yeah,” Caramel answered in a bittersweet tone. “We got desperate for a while; we even tried to sell me as a paperweight. Can you imagine? A paperweight, Mac. And you know what? I ruined the ink after I had to get up. Worst idea we ever had, hooves down.”
Mac felt his shoulders tense up slightly.
“So I like how you want to just research my...whatsit. Job searching won't really get us anything.”
“We?”
Mel seemed to falter.
“Well, heh, you're just as invested in this as I am. I figure it's your job, too, once we get it.”
“Nnope,” Macintosh corrected. “You said 'we' before you referred to 'me'. Who's th' third?”
He couldn't see it from there, but he guessed Caramel's lip was trembling. The little stallion wasn't going to dodge this forever; Mac would make him talk about it.
“...My dad.”
Now Big Macintosh was considerably tense. He felt his blood pumping through his veins.
“How is yer daddy these days?”, he asked as 'politely' as he could muster.
“...I wouldn't know.”
“Mmhmm.” He kept sewing the seeds perfectly.
“Shoot...last I saw him, he was packing his things...at least I think so. Th-that was when I was asking him to appeal to the Princess. He...refused. Probably because he was embarrassed.”
“...Embarrassed, you say?”
“Yeah.”
“Mmhmm.” Still perfect, but his hoof made the box shake with each sowing.
“And then...well, you know the rest.”
That made him stop. His entire body was on fire.
“Wait.”
Caramel froze. Mac felt the slightest twinge of guilt, but it was quickly forgotten.
“Y-yeah?”
“So you're sayin' he never came t'see you after he trashed you?”
“...No.”
“Not even once?”
“...N-no. He moved to Canterlot and I never saw him again.”
“Uh-HUH,” he grunted through clenched teeth, starting to sew the seeds a little messily.
His boyfriend's voice sounded far away, his ears picking up the box rattle more than anything else.
“Mac...don't get any funny ideas, okay?”
“Funny ideas?”, he answered with a manic giggle. “Now whut d'you mean by 'funny ideas', babe?”
“Mac, 'babe', you're scaring me. W-what's wrong?”
He threw the seed box someplace he didn't care to know. He was panting; he was shaking; he had trouble seeing straight. Nevertheless, he made his way over to a cowering Caramel.
“Ah jus' don' git it,” he spat. “Ah don' git how somepony could abandon 'is own flesh an' blood like that. It makes me SEETHE, Caramel. It makes me SEETHE to think o' how this happened right under mah nose. H-he was embarrassed? EMBARRASSED?! Ah bet that's why he left you, too, that same EMBARRASSMENT."
BOOM.
"DAMN IT ALL!” He had stomped just before where the love of his life stood, making the wet earth crumble.
He hated how Caramel was shaking...but then, he hated plenty of things right then. He hated how this debacle was years in the making. He hated how it managed to slip under the radar of everypony else. And he hated how Caramel probably still wanted to keep quiet about it.
But more than anything else, he hated how he was too angry at the moment to comfort him.
“N-now just relax,” the victim tried to soothe. “It happened a few years ago, I've moved on, and that's still my dad you're talking about, so cool it,” he ended on a forceful note.
“Yer dad,” the savior grunted through gnashing teeth, “is somepony I don' wanna see anytime soon...Nnope, scratch that, Ah wanna see 'im right now. Ah wanna see his big, smug face right before Ah--”
Mel jumped onto his hooves, eyes suddenly full of a rage that had no reason to be.
“YOU JUST SHUT UP!”
“YOU JUS' LISTEN! If Ah had mah way, that overgrown DEMON wouldn't walk this earth anymore. T'think ponies like that EXIST; what th' HELLS kind o' world are we livin' in?!”
He couldn't see anything but Caramel now. He didn't want to see anything else, as the pony's face twisted in his own anger. He wanted him angry in the worst way. He wanted him to dare to fight back.
“You're a FINE one to throw around words like OVERGROWN, you hypocrite!”
“An' yer DEFENDIN' 'IM! That SLAYS me, Mel, an' no joke. Did he come 'round last night and MAGICALLY redeem 'imself while we SLEPT?! Magic don' work that way, babe! Even if'n it did, NO magic could save THAT pony, Ah'll tell you whut!”
“LOOK, you don't KNOW the pony; I DO! You believe or don't believe what you want, but I'LL speak on the subject of MY father, NOT YOU.”
Oh, like that was going to work.
“Ah ALSO can't believe YOU jus' let all this HAPPEN!”
That shut him up. The pony's jaw moved, but couldn't utter a sound.
“YER th' victim, YOU should be th' one rantin' an' ravin', not ME! It DISGUSTS me, it SADDENS me t'think o' how you prolly jus' SAT BACK an' TOOK IT ALL, leavin' ME t'come an' rescue you!”
“RESCUE me?!”
“...You were livin' in a condemned rat hole, Mel. Ah saved you, no doubt 'bout that.”
“Oh, really?!”
Mel butted heads with the big workpony. Good. He wouldn't need comforting now.
“For your INFORMATION, Mr. Savior, I would have been just FINE if you hadn't DESTROYED me at that damn TRACK-AND-FIELD! I had PLANS, Macintosh. Plans based on that day that would have gotten me somewhere nice. And DON'T EVEN tell me you didn't know, the point is you just HELPED me; you did not 'SAVE' me.”
“Oh, that soon?”, Big Macintosh countered sourly. “Those plans you had made for, oh, whut wuz it...YESTERDAY?! OBVIOUSLY, you were ahead o' the curve! Not to mention, since Ah DESTROYED you as you said, that...put a...crimp on yer plans...”
Whut th' hells am Ah doin'?
His ears drooped as his resolve faded. He shouldn't have been yelling at Caramel. He had no good reason to be mad at this pony; especially not when words like that were being thrown around the field.
“...Destroyed you?”
Caramel took a deep breath, seemingly calming down...but his ears drooped, too.
“It was...pretty bad, Mac. I've never been bested at my own talent before. It broke me. But not because I have any real pride in my shoe throwing, because...well, you know.”
The damp wind rushed through both their manes. They were both sweaty.
“You should be proud o' yer talent,” the eldest Apple sibling objected weakly. “Everypony should.”
The disgraced pony's expression remained somber as he said: “If I could eke out any bits from it, I would be. It's not that I hate shoe tricks, really – I used to love it – it's just...everything else...”
“Oh, Caramel...”
Macintosh sat both of them down and leaned in to touch heads more gently. He only moved to lick above Caramel's muzzle, not wanting to break the connection.
“Ah'm sorry Ah yelled at you.”
Caramel licked him back.
“It's okay. It was...kind of impressive, actually.”
That he did not expect. He pulled back to gauge Caramel's whole expression, which turned out to be...eager? Huh?
“Impressive?”
“Yeah!”, his strange boyfriend confirmed. “You were just into it. I was ready to take you down but you weren't having any of it! I...kind of liked it...Not all of it, but a good deal of it, at least.”
Even as much as he didn't expect that, he never expected this. He couldn't help looking aside as the revelation pummeled what sanity he had reclaimed from the shouting match.
“Y-You liked it?” He had to eliminate any ambiguity, else...he didn't want to think about it at the moment.
Caramel giggled. He actually giggled. His eyes closed as his mouth turned a grin and everything.
“Yeah...it got me riled up. I just felt alive, y'know?” His wild expression was dangerous for too many reasons.
“...Ah threatened yer father an' insulted you, an' you liked it?!”
“Yeeeeah, the second part is where I fell off that wagon,” Mel answered glibly.
It was then the ranter realized just what he had said; and he said a lot. No matter how much his colt giggled, it didn't change that.
“Ah...Ah didn't mean that stuff. Ah saw those bales, you couldn't've--” He was shushed by the insulted pony's hoof.
“Mac...it's okay. You were angry, it happens...but it's good you didn't mean it,” Mel admitted with a smile.
The cute pony looked askance to the stockpile before adding: “As for the stuff about my dad...well...it was nice to see you stand up for me. Even if it was a little overkill.”
A terrified Macintosh tried to understand what just happened. His boyfriend liked it when he shouted and villified his horrible father. When he shouted about that miserable excuse for a pony...Mel liked it. He kissed the hoof against his muzzle, despite the dirt it had gathered. Mel lowered the now wet hoof.
“...Ah suppose Ah can live with that. A little overkill every now an' then can be good,” he said with a nervous grin.
Caramel raised his eyebrows. That was more of what he was expecting.
“Well, I don't wanna catch you making a habit of it.”
He didn't feel nervous anymore, snorting as some anger returned.
“No promises there.”
“Mac...”
“He ain't worth th'--”
“MAC!”
He looked to Caramel's inexplicably stern face and quieted himself. He wasn't used to having to do that, not since he was little. It made him feel dirty.
“Babe...come on,” the abandoned son soothed. “Life's hard enough without making it harder. Let's just figure my stupid body out and move on.”
The last sentence echoed in his head as he tried to contain himself. But then he remembered...he had no reason to. He was used to doing it for so long, but now the colt was right there in front of him, trying to appease him.
Perfect.
“Yer body ain't stupid.”
Caramel looked confused...then smiled. As his mare ran a hoof down his chest, Mac felt it was a smile he would come to anticipate.
“It ain't?”
“Nnope...Ah'll prove it t'you.”
That was when the tickling started.