Horseshoes

by Peter Yellowhammer

Pinned

“That was stupendous!”

“Simply breathtaking!”

“I'll treasure the memory for the rest of my life!”

“That was awesome! I need to get back home, though...”

“...I say, darling, did you hear the latest?”

“Oh? My lady, what could it be?”

“They say the Oranges have a new worker...but he's never moved a plough in his life!”

“Surely you jest!”

“I jest not!”

“What? The Apple Family has a new worker? Who?”

“That's weird; I thought they had sorted everything out already. Then again, Wrap Up was a flop...”

“Like, chah, that was, rebelatory! I never knew that klutz could do anythang!”

“Hold on, madam: a klutz, you said?”

“Ohmigawsh, yes! That klutz from the Stallions' Shield Cup or whatevar; he was super grumpeh.”

“Hmm...there's only one colt I know of that could fit that description.”

“I hope Sylvia's not gonna be mad at me for being late; who could blame me after seeing that?!”

“I believe his name was Karmel, darling.”

“Karmel? Oh, that can't be right. Who would name their son Karmel, that's absurd.”

“Focus, you silly stallion...it's tentative, but there's cause to believe this new pony...is light on his hooves.”

“WHAT?!”

“WAAAAT?!?! That, like, explains a lot, because I, like, could not get him ta look at mah new hurr!”

“...Wait, what does, like, 'light on his hooves' mean anyway?”

“My good madam, that will shake this fair town to its foundation if it's true!”

“I will keep you posted, darling. Toodles!”

“Ta ta!”

“Like, no, Toodles is at home! I can't take that puppeh anywhar!”

“What did I hear just now? Something about puppies and hooves...”

“Psst! Karmel's gay!”

“Karmel? Gay? What the hay are you talking about?”

“It means he dates stallions.”

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah! And get this...”

Big Macintosh and Caramel ended up staying on the newly seeded field for the rest of the day, mostly just playing with each other, taking their minds off the situation and whatnot. As a result, they completely forgot about Fluttershy, but they decided that was just as well. She had her friends to congratulate her or console her either way; but the two of them needed to get to know each other better...

As the sun set, the two headed back to the Homestead. A lot had been said back on that field, so it was hard to know what to say now. The latter decided to make smalltalk.

“So how have you and the Oranges been getting along?”

Mac grimaced.

“I see.”

“Eeyup.”

Mel glanced to the town: it had gotten so much bigger that it was at risk of creeping up the valley itself. There were gentlecolt's clubs and ritzy sports parks and tourist booths and funky modern residences and businesses he didn't even know existed until now. They had even installed a small amusement park with a roller coaster; it was ridiculous. Something had to be done, but even now, he couldn't think of a thing. He just hoped they weren't here to stay.

“Am I...going to have a problem with 'em?”, he asked as he turned away.

His roommate just kept facing forward. He couldn't blame the guy.

“Just do whut Ah do; don' engage 'em. It's *cough* not worth it.”

“...Okay.”

“Yer in luck, though; they won't be home 'till later.”

He looked to 'home'.

“They won't?”

“Nnope,” he said with embellishment. “They're 'tourin'' right now.”

“Again? I thought they toured yesterday. Wouldn't they be familiar with the town by now, at any rate?”

“You'd think that, but you'd be *cough* wrong. Apparently.”

Caramel turned to see Macintosh's completely unconvincing smile. It was almost frightening to see the stud express anything that wasn't genuine; but he chalked it up to yet another new discovery about Big Mac.

“Since when did you get so sarcastic?”

The plastered smile failed.

“...Ah blame them.”

The former turned pensive as he said: “What exactly went wrong, anyway? I thought they were just visiting y'all. They weren't even here to see Spike!”

The latter turned dark as he said: “They got greedy. Simple as that.”

Mel glanced to the town again. He had to stop doing that; it was depressing.

“Well, let's just go get dinner.”

Big Mac nodded wordlessly.

“I wonder what we'll have tonight? That salad last night had me reeling. I'll bet it's good.”

“It's pasta.”

Caramel beamed as Applejack told him before entering the house. He stopped as soon as he registered her plasticine face, however.

“...Is there a problem with pasta?”

“Oh NO,” the pasta maker exaggerated in a city voice, “it's a DELIGHTFUL dish. Why, I myself am SO eager to partake of it!” She ushered them in, her face obviously struggling to maintain composure.

He looked to the sane sibling, whose face remained neutral. The sarcastic face was thankfully nowhere to be seen.

“She doesn't like pasta?”, he whispered.

Big Mac shook his head.

“But they do.”

Big Mac nodded.

“So I'm just lucky she served something I like.”

After a second, Big Mac nodded.

“Your throat's sore, isn't it?”

Big Mac nodded with a frown.

“Well, let's eat.”

“Eeyu-*cough* *hack*!”

“GAAH! REVOLTING!”

“I thought you said--”

“*hack* *wheeze*”

“Nevermind...”

“So...Caramellow, was it?”

'Caramellow' looked to Clementine. Unsure of how to respond, he just made an “I'm listening” face.

“How was your first day on the job, if you don't mind me asking, darling...?”

After an intentional pause, he made a “It wasn't too bad” face.

“I see you're practicing nonverbal communication,” interjected Mosely. “What fun! I think I'll have a go.”

Mosely made a “So how was your day REALLY?” face to 'Caramellow'.

Caramel responded with a “Fair to middlin'” face.

Applejack shot him a “What in Equestria do you think yer doin'?” face.

Big Macintosh tapped him on the shoulder, showing him the same face as his sister's.

Granny Smith and Applebloom, as it turned out, were making the same face.

Caramel made a general “I'm uncomfortable” face.

Clementine expertly gave a “Well, don't be so gauche, darling” face.

Valencia discreetly made a “What exactly is going on?” face to her husband.

Mosely reassured her with a “Just a bit of fun, sweetheart” face.

Caramel started to panic, making a “Wow, this pasta sure is good!” face.

The Apples mimicked his face, while the Oranges responded with an “It must be a rural custom” face.

Big Macintosh privately gave Caramel an “It's okay” face.

Caramel smiled.

As they settled into bed, Mel cuddled up to his big red pony and buried his muzzle in the withers. Macintosh chuckled softly, probably trying not to upset his throat. He felt so warm...the kind of warmth of which he had dreamed for years to have by his side; he was swimming in that gentle love submerging him without asking anything in return. It was enough to make him forget the subtle chaos outside their home for just one night...

But as always, Caramel still had concerns. He pulled his muzzle up.

“Babe?”

“Hmm...?” Mac's voice was still weak, poor guy.

“You don't have to answer right now," he whispered apologetically, "but...I'd like to know if you have a plan for my problem. All we know so far is it affects all of me...which to be honest, I already knew.”

His partner sighed...then wheezed softly as he shook his head.

“Nothing, huh?”, confirmed Caramel with a hint of dread. “Ponyfeathers...”

Suddenly, Mac shook Mel off and turned to face him. The former motioned toward the latter's side of the bed.

“Huh?”

Mac motioned again.

“Turn over?”

Mac nodded and smiled.

“...Okay.”

The anxious pony complied, and was rewarded with a very warm, very big body embracing him from behind. He giggled stupidly as he was kissed on his right cheek.

“Hmm...we'll figure it out.”

He got kissed on the neck.

“Goodnight.”

Caramel was in a field. He was a little colt again, playing in the mud without a care. It splashed and flew and landed everywhere. He didn't have to worry about Dad dragging him to another interview now; it was just mud, mud, mud. Mud everywhere. The mud was on the sky.

It was literally all over him.

He panicked, trying to find his way home before he couldn't see anything anymore. Mud was pouring from his hooves and cutie mark, smothering everything underneath him. He ran faster and faster, making more and more mud to pour behind him and to the sides. Eventually, all he saw was an ugly mix of brown and black.

“Hello?! Anypony?! HELP ME!”

The little colt ran to every corner, finding himself blocked inside a doorless room. He was completely trapped.

“Daddy, I'm scared.”

For a second, he thought he heard the sound of a pen clicking...but it was too far away to tell.

He pushed himself against one wall, which became all he could see. He struggled and struggled, throwing all of his might against it only to lose his nerve. He slumped and began to cry.

“Daddy, please help me...I'm lost.”

After a second, Caramel heard the sound of burrowing in front of him. He peered at the fathomless wall...and recoiled when a little Macintosh came bursting through. He was panting with his tongue out, like a dog. Without prompt, he licked Caramel generously. The wagging tongue collected the mud, which was eaten eagerly.

“...Macintosh? What happened to you? And why did you eat that?!”

He got licked again. And again. As Little Macintosh kept doing it, he got bigger and older, falling down the viscous wall. The licks became tender and strategic.

Caramel didn't feel himself grow; he was just a mud-free adult there with Big Macintosh, opting to connect their tongues into a proper kiss. They intertwined decadently as the walls melted.

The brown slid down the walls until only black was left. It seemed to pulsate. Mel tried to close his eyes and enjoy the caress, but his eyes were stretched open and his ears were pinned to the sky. A shrill, demonic, feminine voice assaulted him from all corners. It was getting closer.

“THIS IS YOUR PRECIOUS PARADISE!”

“MMMFH!”, he cried out to his lover.

Mac kept kissing him...but he became more and more passionate. He got so invigorated that he shoved his colt against the sky, drinking in the blackness that pulsated around both of them. He drank mindlessly, drinking and drinking until Mel couldn't see him at all.

“THPPP, MKKNTOTH!”

Black Macintosh slowed his pace down, savoring every curve their tongues made. Then he stopped, pulling away very slowly.

Caramel tried to close his eyes. He fought against the psychic pins as hard as he could...but he was stuck.

His lover grew fangs and moved in for the kill.

Caramel silently screamed as his body was overwhelmed with adrenaline. He was sweaty and confused and disoriented, and on top of it all he was being restrained! He needed to find Big Macintosh, and fast.

“Mmmfh.”

...Oh.

There he was. Right behind him, like before. The restraints were his legs.

He's right there, he's right there, he's right there. He's not evil. He's right there.

He repeated the mantra to himself while breathing deeply. That dream was certainly new. If he wasn't careful, he might wake Mac like the day before. But then again, what time was it?

Blinking his tired eyes, he spotted the clock with much less effort this time. It was six o'clock. So he slept soundly through most of the night, that was good.

He wasn't too familiar with morning farm schedule, other than it started early. He decided to rouse the farm pony for better or for worse.

“Mac? Mac...”

He felt the legs wrapped around him bring him in closer and tighten their grip. His stud made a sleepy giggle.

“Mac! Get up!” He tapped the hooves around his chest, which were thankfully just below his own. He was finding it increasingly difficult to resist the unconscious cuddling. After all, today was going to be significantly frustrating, if last night was any indication. Why not just enjoy it?

Just as the thought occurred to him, a bead of sweat dropped from his muzzle and onto the sheets.

“Mac! Big Macintosh, let go of me!”

He felt the entangled legs loosen as Mac roused. Mel amused himself with the picture of the champion of the Stallions' Field Cup with heavy-lidded eyes and bed hair. It was a shame he still couldn't move to see it.

“*snort* Whut?”

“You awake?”

His boyfriend grumbled. His voice sounded better, that was good.

“Eeeeeyup. Somethin' wrong? Wait, whut time 'zit?”

“Six.”

“...Oh, good, jus' in time. Thanks.”

Macintosh finally retreated from Caramel and got up off the bed. The pony remaining glanced to see the face he had imagined, except the real one also had some sleep lines and stubble. Just how old was his stud anyway? He never thought to ask, funnily enough.

“Um, sorry if this is a stupid question,” he hazarded, “but just in time for what?”

“Nnope, it's a good question,” the groggy pony answered. “It's time fer you to get t' th' field.”

Mel wasn't sure he heard that right. Maybe his ears were still pinned to the darkness.

“Uh, whaddya mean by that?”

“Ah meant just that. Clem's suspicious of you, so it's best you git out there an'...”, he stopped to look outside the door before coming back in, “make like yer workin'. Ah'll join you later, but Ah need t'keep up 'pearances, you know. In fact...let's just make this a rule fer now.”

The suspect couldn't help but feel he was being cast aside somehow.

“You sure?”

“Eeyup. Plus,” he added in a seemingly nervous tone, “it might be good fer her t'see me away from you fer once. Ah say might. Ah could...jus' be paranoid.”

The feminine shriek in Caramel's dream came back to him. It seemed strangely significant to him now, making him clammy and anxious like his partner.

“...Paranoid about what?”

“L-look, just git out there. Ah'll snag some food fer you later. Git!”

Despite their mutual paranoia, nothing happened that day. But this also meant no real progress was made. Both of them went to bed feeling decidedly less optimistic.