Blueblood was tense. At least, that’s what Fancy Pants thought when he pressed his hoof the prince’s chest. Even in such a large bed truly fit for a king Fancy Pants found it hard not to huddle close to Blueblood as if they were laying on no more than a twin bed. His muzzle was pressed against Blueblood’s bare chest, fluffed up like a lion mane and growing only more tangled and large when he ran his hoof up it. It was normally comforting, to bury himself in Blueblood’s chest and focus on the smell of roses that danced through his nose… but this morning the prince was tense. No matter how much he kissed or hugged his prince it seemed as though he had hit a wall.
“We were up far too late,” Blueblood mumbled. He had his hoof over his eyes and was staring out the small part of curtain on the opposite wall that he had left cracked, a stream of sunlight striking the otherwise shadowed room. “We missed breakfast. I know how much you enjoy using me to eat of my chef’s food.”
“Oh, so you figured it out?” Fancy Pants raised his eye and lifted his chin from Blueblood’s chest. Blueblood let his eyes show for but a second before covering them up again. “It’s true, I must confess, I love Buttercup’s honey muffins far more than your embrace. It’s a dark secret of mine, I must admit.”
“Do you love me more than lunch at least?” Blueblood chuckled, but somehow it seemed distant. Something about him was just… going through the motions. Even when Fancy Pants lowered his head to press his lips to Blueblood’s own it felt as though something else was on the Prince’s mind.
“I’ll think about it,” Fancy Pants answered. Even the pink velvet blankets that Fancy tugged closer to cover both of them did not compare to simply how soft the younger unicorn’s fur felt. He kissed at the base of Blueblood’s neck and was awarded with a giggle, though Fancy could feared it might be involuntary. “Are you alright, Sweetheart? You tossed and turned all night.”
“I’m fine.” Blueblood squirmed out from under Fancy Pants and sat up, rubbing his eyes with both hooves. “What time is it, anyway? The sun’s nearly on top the castle.”
“Oh, dear, let’s see,” Fancy Pants mumbled and crawled to the edge of the bed. He spotted his dress shirt at the edge of the open bathroom door. He felt heat gather in his horn and watched a single golden chain raise from the pocket, a watch floating towards him that he snatched out of the air. He clicked it open and read the time. “It’s nearly noon.”
“Well I do hope you didn’t have anywhere to be today,” Blueblood chuckled, it sounded a bit more genuine this time. “Otherwise you have nopony to blame but yourself. It’s not my fault you’re so tedious and slow with every action you make in this bed.”
“Oh but it is your fault for whining, Sweetheart,” Fancy Pants threw Blueblood a look that made the prince glance away and cover his cheek with his hoof. “And don’t worry, all my affairs lately with business have been through letters. Manehattan ponies take ages to respond to the simplest of questions. Honestly the way a mare seals her lips about her size to the one crafting her dress never ceases to amaze me.”
“As much as I would adore to hear the details of your work, I look a mess,” Blueblood sighed and slapped his hooves lightly against his cheeks a few times in an attempt to wake himself up. “Do me a favor and tell me why exactly you can stand to see me before I’ve so much as untangled my mane?”
“Because I know I’m one of the only ponies you allow to see like that, Sweetheart,” Fancy Pants laid back down at the bed and observed the shape of Blueblood’s figure when he rose from the bed. Blueblood didn’t respond, and just rolled his eyes. Simply staring at Blueblood walk slowly around the bed and to the bathroom made Fancy’s heart fill with a sense of warmth that he had grown to call his own as of late.
Blueblood pushed aside Fancy’s shirt with a sense of dainty precision that showed he was reluctant to touch it, choosing to clear a path instead of simply picking it up. It was Fancy’s turn to roll his eyes, sitting up in the bed and daring to touch the cold purple tiles of the floor that sent a shiver up his spine.
Lack of sunlight really did more harm than good to a room as massive as this. He opened the curtain with his magic on the far side of a room just a crack to give a bit more light, nothing else in the room but a large closet and a vanity tucked away in the corner. The only thing that seemed out of place was the three piles of newspapers by the door, which tugged at Fancy’s smile and pulled it momentarily into a frown.
“I saw, Blueblood, did you plan to start a bonfire or adopt several dozen puppies and housetrain them?” He questioned. Perhaps his attempt to make a joke of the matter was the wrong call when he approached the bathroom. When he leaned down to retrieve his shirt he saw Blueblood standing at the sink with his hooves in the water, his expression numb but lips sunk in a frown.
“It was a knee-jerk reaction,” Blueblood grumbled and placed his wet hoof to his eye, water dribbling down his face. “I’ve heard the lecture before, Fancy, spending money so pointlessly is frivolous at best, even in a position of royalty.” He shook his head slowly and bit briefly at his lip before splashing a bit of water in his face.
“I know, darling,” Fancy lifted his shirt with his magic and began to slip it on slowly. He eyed Blueblood with his bad eye and watched him grow clear when positioned his monocle. “But I hate to say this, I don’t think we’ve known a private life for most of our lives. Plenty of my romances have been far from a private affair. I once dated a mare who I swear it turned her on more to know that she was with a celebrity and everypony knew it.”
“I don’t need details,” Blueblood grumbled and shook his head again. He shut off the water but simply stared straight ahead at the mirror. “Look, can we not discuss this? I want to…”
There was a pause where Blueblood’s hoof trembled on the edge of the sink. He looked as though he were struggling to come up with anything to say. Fancy didn’t push him, but took a step forward. What hurt him most wasn’t the fact that Blueblood was visibly upset with him, but the fact that he took a step away. Fancy reached out his hoof, desire to place it on Blueblood and comfort him near overwhelming him, but somehow he resisted and set it back to the floor.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry I teased you. You’re right, it was a knee-jerk reaction.” Fancy mumbled and looked to the mirror. If anything he looked like more of a mess than Blueblood did, his mane ruffled and eyes baggy. It was safe to say getting clean was not the focus of yesterday’s bath. “But this is just the way things are for ponies like us. If anything it helps if you learn to take it in stride.”
There it was again, that tenseness that Fancy had felt before. It was near visible the way Blueblood’s muscles tightened and his breath caught in his throat. He shook his head again and turned away from Fancy.
“Fancy I’m not… like you,” Blueblood mumbled. He looked down to his hooves before sitting down slowly and hugging himself tightly. “I don’t own a fashion business like you do, p-ponies don’t adore me like they do you. They see you as kind and gentle and just me as your… fashion accessory…”
“Sweetheart, they do-”
“They do,” Blueblood’s tone was firm. His muscles tightened more when Fancy dared to lay a hoof on his back, and he even trembled when the older unicorn rubbed in circles. “They don’t… Ponies still don’t know how to think of me. For my whole like I was just my father’s puppet and did what he wanted and tried to be what he wanted me to be. I’m only good at looking my best and trying not to devalue the name of the throne more than I already have.”
“Blueblood, I highly doubt that you alone could devalue the throne,” Fancy Pants stepped closer to Blueblood and laid both hooves on his back. The prince still didn’t turn to look at him and instead stared at the patterns on the pink tiles. “My business has never been hurt by stories like this, in fact I dare say it’s improved. Ponies in Canterlot eat it up if one of us dares step into the realm of… naughtiness.” The word tasted strange on his tongue, but he stuck to it.
“Ponies still don’t know what to make of me, though,” Blueblood brought the end of his hoof to his teeth and bit on it briefly. “The way they look at me is different now, like I’ve been caught in some big lie. I feel as though they always talk behind my back and view me as nothing more than some toy of yours.”
Blueblood ran a hoof through his mane. “Fancy… they don’t call you the things they call me.”
“I…” Fancy Pants tried to grasp for words, yet none came to his mind. He could feel Blueblood’s tail swish back and forth near his hooves impatiently, his body trembling again as if irritation was rising in him quickly. “I wasn’t always regarded as this, Blueblood. Believe it or not I’ve done things that when you were far younger your father wouldn’t dare let you read about.”
“I can hardly tell if you’re joking with me,” Blueblood mumbled and for the first time let Fancy see directly into his eyes. “Though I can imagine.”
“Well…” Fancy Pants sat down gingerly onto the floor and ran his hoof from Blueblood’s back to his foreleg and tugged on it gently. “When I was young when I first got into fashion. I didn’t grow up in Canterlot, you see. I worked mostly outside of my mother’s fabric shop. She didn’t create dresses, no, but she sold them to ponies who did. I delivered them until I was in my late teens and always asked how they managed to turn a few strips of pink and black into a beautiful creation.”
“This story doesn’t involve much slander, yet,” Blueblood commented. Fancy Pants saw it, a smile, it was brief and nearly between Fancy’s blinking, but it was there.
“I’m getting there,” Fancy Pants jabbed his hoof lightly into Blueblood’s side and tugged him closer until their bodies pressed together. He pushed his back against the cabinet and let Blueblood turn his body to pay closer attention. He lowered both his hooves to Fancy’s own and held tightly. “But I did manage to save enough money to go to Canterlot. My parents didn’t like the idea of me pursuing fashion as my career, claiming it was far too unstable. My cutie mark was vague enough, so it was easy to convince them I meant to keep it as nothing more but a hobby.” Fancy nodded to his flank at the three crowns. “Mother wanted to expand her business, so I offered the outskirts of Canterlot. The ponies more wealthy than the common folk but not quite rich enough to live near the castle as I do.”
Blueblood nodded his head. He seemed more interested in the story than his own self pity. “Shining lived there before Princess Twilight became Celestia’s student.”
“Right,” Fancy Pants smiled at Blueblood. “Well, I wasn’t just going to give up on my dream like that. Expanding the cloth business to Canterlot helped keep me afloat, but my name wasn’t quite out there yet. I created dresses in my spare time and even managed to sell a few. However, I was also young and… well I… Y’know.” He removed his hoof from Blueblood’s own to scratch behind his head. Blueblood threw him a questioning gaze.
“No, I do not know, Fancy,” Blueblood raised his eyebrow. “What exactly did you do?”
“Well, there was this… bar, near the store. No more than three blocks down. It was more of a club, really. And in this club stallions well… they were on stage and very… extravagant about their bodies.” Fancy spoke slow, finding it incredibly difficult to speak the words accurately.
“You frequented a stallion strip club?” Blueblood questioned. There was little emotion in his tone, not even disbelief. Perhaps the deepest blow was the fact that he hardly seemed surprised. It was Fancy’s turn to feel his cheeks grow warm when he coughed into his hoof.
“A bit,” Fancy admitted, a dry chuckle at the end of his words.
“Oh. Okay then.” Blueblood nodded his head slowly. “You truly to have the animalistic needs of an animal in heat, you know this?”
“Yes, Sweetheart,” Fancy shook his head quickly and resumed his story. “A-Anyway I grew friendly with the owner, and eventual-”
“You went enough to get friendly with the owner?” Blueblood raised his brow.
“Shh!” Fancy Pants hushed Blueblood. “Regardless of how often I went, I got to know them and consider them a friend after a while. I told them about my buisness and my side project and… she was nice enough to allow me to host a bit of a fashion show. Even if the stallions on stage were over sexual they still had enough experience to be proper models.”
“Fancy, you honestly could not have taken up that offer,” Blueblood placed his face into his hoof.
“Oh, I did.” Fancy Pants shrugged. “It was about as large of a disaster as you could expect. About a dozen tabloids called me a disgrace to fashion as a whole and nothing but a mockery… It’s not a smart idea to host a fashion show on the same stage two stallions sat atop each other doing things very… similar to what we did last night, to say the least. I honestly just wanted to attempt to get my name out there, and in a way I suppose it worked.”
“If you’re trying to cheer me up through embarassing yourself I think it may be working,” Blueblood shuddered and his muscles tightened. “I get it, you were embarrassed too. L-Let’s not compare embarrassing press anymore, please.”
“That’s just it.” Fancy Pants raised his hoof and let on a devilish smirk. “You see, Blueblood, all it takes is one pony in the right place to believe in you and you can salvage your name. And a single journalist who happened to work at Canterlot’s biggest fashion magazine thought my show was a work of art.”
“Art?” Blueblood asked disbelievingly.
“I was just as shocked as you, believe me,” Fancy Pants laughed. “Her name was Bristle Quill, and she was the only one to convince me to interview. I was so embarrassed about the backlash I planned to let her have it… When she started asking me about my artist meaning I made up every other sentence. Did you know it’s incredibly easy to convince the public that your message was the over sexualization of ponies in the industry?”
“I can’t imagine it’s easy to convince the public the sky is blue, some days,” Prince Blueblood mumbled. He released Fancy’s other hoof and rubbed his own together. “Were you ever not disgustingly dirty?”
“When I was five, and then I caught a glimpse of my best friend’s mother and her curves.” Fancy shrugged his shoulders. Blueblood chuckled, it seemed involuntary by the way he instantly tried to cover his mouth with his hoof. Blue laughing filled his heart once more, this time with warmth. “You don’t have curves like hers, but I prefer muscles.”
“Oh shut up!” Blueblood hit his hoof to Fancy’s foreleg. He seemed to bit on the inside of his cheek just to keep his mouth shut from laughing further. Fancy smiled, and craned out his neck to press his lips to his cheek.
“All I’m saying, Sweetheart, is that all it takes is one pony to believe in you. I know that they talk about you much less… favorably than me, but I was once where you were. It took years for people to forget about that little incident.” Fancy Pants grasped Blueblood’s hoof and rose to his hooves. “If we’re going to sit and be sorry for ourselves I’d rather it be your bed over a bathroom floor. My back is killing me already.”
“You’re old,” Blueblood chuckled.
“I know,” Fancy Pants replied.
“But you,” Blueblood began when he rose up to his hoof as well. He stared into Fancy’s eyes for a moment and then reached out his neck to kiss him. His lips were soft, much softer than Fancy’s own. “You are at least a voice of reason.”
“I can’t… stop the public from hurting you, like this,” Fancy Pants walked slowly and pulled on Blueblood’s hoof until they were out of the bathroom. He stopped at the crack of sunlight from the balcony and smiled back at Blueblood. “But I want you to know I’d never think of you so poorly… Their opinions of you will change eventually, they just eat up what they think will give them attention. Why don’t we do something today? Something outside of the castle?”
“F-Fancy, I…”
“They won’t do anything that I won’t be there to help with,” Fancy pulled on Blueblood’s hoof until the other was close to his body. Blueblood looked away, but Fancy took it as an excuse to kiss his cheek once more. “It’s not good to hide yourself away every time you feel as though ponies will judge you. Remember what I told you at my birthday last year?”
“When… When I was your rose?” Blueblood looked to Fancy and stared at him with those piercing blue eyes.
“Right, when you were my rose,” Fancy Pants grinned when he replied. “You still are. You told me that no matter what we would laugh it off together because none of it mattered. And right now I want to treat my boyfriend to a wonderful lunch and not care about what ponies think. We can come back here and burn the papers if you want but for now let’s just try to move on.”
Blueblood was silent for a few moments, but in the end after staring out at the balcony and then back to Fancy he nodded his head. The world seemed empty for just a moment, the two standing together. Fancy smiled, and it seemed to infect Blueblood’s lips as well.
“I’ll get dressed,” Blueblood said, and pulled away from his lover.