Colts

by Guy_Incognito

Stranger Danger

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Stranger Danger

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In the cold, hushing, darkness of night, with a silver moon hanging over his head, Shady Daze walked alone. The jacket hugging his body wasn’t fit for the weather; there were holes in the denim from times he’d fallen asleep with a still smoking cigarette after a wild night and the wind cut through them sharply.

He shivered.

Midway through the Starswirl Memorial park a young couple blocked his path just long enough to gawk. Dark and dirty looks were worn long across their faces as they sized Shady up. No surprise there. He was a proper mess. Yet, he was polite and courteous always. He gave the couple a grin — quite a charming one — but felt defeat when the gentlecolt with her shook his head, and the lady uttered a few bad words under her breath.

No surprise there.

He rolled his eyes and let them pass. He searched the road for any nearby bodies of murky rainwater to see for himself what was so worth being rude about. He found a shallow puddle that reflected the spitting image of an uglied, worn down, bruised, and broken pony back at him.

Shady sucked his teeth.

There was a nasty looking welt growing around his left cheek and fat, saggy flaps of skin had begun to develop under his eyes. It had been a long, long, time since he’d had a good sleep.

Shady fixed up his mane. He pulled loose sweat-stained strands behind his ears until they took and after that, on another look, he reassured himself that he looked less like shit and more like a half decent, respectable, tax paying Equestrian citizen.

Onwards he walked.

He came across a park bench, lonely and empty, and collapsed backwards into his seat. He stretched his legs out and sprawled as openly as he could. Sore. Tired. Deflated. Unabashed. Unashamed. The quietness in Ponyville was alright with him.

He could do much worse. Clearly.

He needed a plan. A scheme. He’d been lying when he told Button he was going home. Home was never a good option. Not for Shady. Not because it was being fumigated, because that had also been a lie, but because coming home drunk any time after sundown on any day of the week that ended with the letter ‘Y’ was just as fun and exciting as walking into a Canterlot Dungeon ass-first and flaunted.

And, yes, he was being sarcastic about that.

He sucked in and bit hard against his puffy cheeks.

A well dressed, older stallion approached from his left. He strutted casually in slow deliberate movements. He dropped himself on the empty spot on the bench beside Shady, grinned and then nodded.

Shady smiled back.

“Good evening,” said the older pony.

Shady nodded, “Evenin’,”

The older pony’s attention drew towards Shady. His soft grey eyes studied the younger pony’s form. He crossed his lower legs, softly slapped his thighs, flashed a grin then turned towards Shady.

Softly, he spoke, “Lovely night for it,”

Following the older pony’s lead, Shady tilted his head up. It certainly was a nice night. All things weather considered. The sky was free of clouds, the stars did that lovely twinkling thing they did, and the largest, fullest moon that Shady had seen in some time hung above them in tranquility.

Yes. Indeed. It was a nice night. One absolutely besmirched by a dumbass named Rumble.

The thought made Shady quiver, and, it must have been notable. Beside him the older pony’s smile only grew with and then he was reaching his hoof into the pocket of the finely pressed suit jacket he wore to withdraw a pack of cigarettes. Shady made moves to grab one of his own only for a sullen realization to strike him; he’d left a half pack sitting on the table back at Club Black.

Typical…

Feigning a smile at the older colt, he was gracious to accept a cigarette. Lighting his cigarette, he grumbled and this time when he did the stallion beside him cocked up an eyebrow and rolled his head towards him,

“Something on your mind?”

Shady sniffed at the air, “It’s… pretty dumb,” he huffed, trying to smile, “Actually… It’s the definition of stupid. Really.”

The older pony nodded, “Please. By all means...”

“Well, okay…” Shady scrapped a fetlock across his left leg to ease the tense muscles, “It’’s like-” he bit his lower lip and scrunched up his nose, “There’s this... guy. And, um, okay- See, I have this friend. Now, yeah… He’s a really good friend. A- Well, a great friend. Like we’ve been friends since we were eating mud pies together on the playground...”

The stallion stayed quiet for a moment, then nodded, “Okay,”

“And, once you’ve known a guy for that long, I mean-” Shady stopped to suck his teeth, “Um… Well, the thing is, you get to really know that guy-” another pause for Shady to drag his tongue across his cracked, swollen, lips, “Platonically speaking… of course.”

The older stallion grinned at him, “Of course,”

“And… Like I said; I’ve known him for years and years, and over the last- Geez, two, or three… I mean, who’s really been counting, right?” his brows dropped, then he hunched, “Okay- See- It’s just that… Something changed with him. And with me- With us I guess you could say? And, well it sucks. I fucking hate it. Really. There’s- Okay, look... There are days where I can’t even look him in the eyes because of it.”

The older pony dropped a hoof against Shady’s thigh, rubbed it, then smiled, “What changed?”

“I did? He did? I don’t really know,” Shady shrugged his heavy shoulders and let his neck slack until his face fell to his chest, “I guess we both did?”

He could see the stallion looking him over. His soft grey eyes drinking in his form while his face tried to express a neutral emotion. His mind clearly undecided on what to think of the shrunken, drunken, sad little homo sitting next to him. Did he pity him? Maybe he resented him?

Who fucking cared?

After hearing all the bullshit that Brolly — who really was the poster child for abortion —, or Thunderlane — who had good genes but was still a douchebag — or, worse than them both, Rumble — who he could have sworn was supposed to be his friend — what did one more pony’s opinion of him really matter? Honestly?

The older pony’s aged features softened. His brow sank, but he smiled and then Shady was smiling back. A tiny bristle of confidence reemerged within him. It wasn’t much. It didn’t convince him that everything was going to be okay. But it was a start. The older stallion leaned his body towards Shady, “And how do you feel about this… friend of yours?”

The insinuating tone attached to the word ‘friend’, coupled with the warmth radiating from the older stallion was enough to have any fleeting traces of worry quickly leave him. An old, familiar tingle spread up his body, to his cheeks, and then Shady was burrowing his head comfortably into the folds his crossed legs made.

“It’s complicated...”

He said it so quietly that he was almost convinced he hadn’t said anything at all, until the older stallion chortled. It wasn’t a mean or callous. It actually made him feel good. Almost. There was that tiny bit of resentment hidden in the back of his tone that sent a chill up Shady’s spine.

“Hey! S-shut up,” Shady demanded, puffing his chest, “It’s not- This isn’t funny, okay?”

Again the older pony laughed, “It is a bit, though…”

“No. No it’s not,” Shady stated through a sharp breath, “Maybe this doesn’t mean anything to you, but to me it’s-” he stopped to give the older pony beside him a harsh and scolding glare, “Why do you even care anyway?”

The older pony sat quietly for a minute then shrugged, “I’m just trying to be friendly,”

Shady grunted, “Oh, sure, yeah. Friendly all the way up until I’m just a head floating in a pickle jar with all the others you have in your dark, unfinished, basement cellar, right?”

The older pony laughed. Hard. He smiled and when he’d finished laughing his face got as close to serious as Shady had seen him muster. This came between short-winded giggles, “Relax, would you?” said the older pony, “I swear to Celestia that I’m not some… deranged, psychotic axe murderer.”

Shady snorted, “Yeah, right. That’s exactly what a deranged, psychotic, axe-murderer would say…”

The older pony giggled, “Do you think you’d still be breathing if I was?”

Shady hummed, “Oh, that’s very reassuring.”

This time when the older pony laughed it was loud and booming, “My goodness, are you defensive,” he scolded, shaking his head, “Just what did this guy do to you to make you so-” he stopped and made a sideways scrunch of his facial features, “Standoffish.”

Grunting, Shady moved a half buttcheek’s away from the pony beside him, “Nothing.”

“It doesn’t sound like nothing,” said the older pony, “It actually- You seem quite a bit… hurt.”

“I- I don’t know-” Shady paused and huffed, “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. But, since I’m still not totally convinced that you’re not some serial killer, and that might also make you the last pony that I ever talk too-”

“Then what?”

“I just need to get this off my chest,” said Shady, “Because, to be totally honest here… it took me a long, long, time to be okay with who I was, alright? I spent months staring at myself in front of my stupid cracked mirror at my dad’s house just telling myself that it was fine to be the way I am. That it was okay for me to be, like… this. That there was nothing wrong with being gay. That no one would think any less of me because of it,” he dropped his brows to look as mean as he could, “So if you’re going to just ream me- Or, if you’re going call me a faggot... Or if-”

A delicate and precise slap from the older pony’s right hoof to Shady’s left thigh shut him up. Entirely.

“Relax,” said the older pony. Quite softly, “You’re spoiling the mood.”

Shady, curious by nature, wondered about just what the older stallion meant. He said nothing about it. In place of his curiosity he found the older stallion’s hoof making it’s way across all the sprains, aching muscles and strained tendons across his back. Rubbing out the pain like wrinkles in bedsheets.

When a purr escaped from Shady’s throat it brought a spread of crimson to his cheeks.

“So this colt means quite a lot to you?” asked the older pony, giving Shady’s tense left shoulder a rub, “Clearly.”

“I guess,” said Shady, “He’s kinda- We’re friends, yeah...”

Another soft touch from the older pony reminded him of another time he’d been touched like this. Gently at first, and then harder later, when it mattered.

He shuddered.

“It sounds like you really like him,”

“Yeah,” said Shady, dropping his face until his cheeks brushed against his thighs, “I don’t, um... I don’t really know when it happened. I just sorta- Over time, I guess? It just, sort of, turned into this thing where we’d spend all this time together, and, like, I kind of found that it meant- means - something different for me than it does to him. If that- Does that make sense?”

He didn’t check to see if the stallion beside him made any moves to acknowledge his statements, but a shift of his body against Shady’s side seemed to say that he had.

“And it’s like,” he said, “There are-” he clicked his tongue, “There are some days where I just look at him and I… Fuck! This is- I’m, like, blackout or something. I really shouldn’t be saying this.”

His groan came out like nails on chalk.

Another firm touch from the stallion beside him reassured Shady that he wasn’t steering the conversation into an uncomfortable place. The heat radiating from the body to his right got warmer. The stallion slid closer towards Shady.

“I don’t know,” Shady grumbled, “I fucking love that stupid ass-hat. For sure. But at the same time he’s also a gigantic douchebag.”

The older colt nodded, “Right,”

“And, he also-” Shady licked his upper lip, “Well, fuck. I’m just sick of the way that he gets away with hurting me, y’know?”

The older colt’s eyes widened,

“Oh no, no, no. Not like that,” Shady said, “Not physically. Rumble’s an ass, but he would never-”

He cut himself off. There was a quickly swelling welt tainting his cheek that told another story.

“He just… He’s fucking dumb. I honestly don’t think he ever thinks about what he’s doing when he’s doing it, right? And, maybe that makes it worse?” Shady let out a quiet hum, “He’s just some stupid fucking kid trapped in an adult’s body. And he’s totally aloof, immature, stupid, and an asshole-” a grin crossed his lips, “Oh, yeah. Rumble’s definitely an asshole,” he blinked, “But still...”

He growled and popped his shoulders forwards. The older pony’s hoof fell from his lap, and, suddenly, he was glad for the cold feeling that came with it.

“See, the thing is… Even after all that. I’m the one who still keeps trying,” Shady admitted, quietly and into his lap, “Doesn’t that make me the fucking dumb one?”

Quiet.

For what might as well have been an entire lifespan to some lesser creatures nothing but silence filled the area while Shady hid himself away from the scrutiny of admitting what he had and the pony beside him judged him.

“I think that’s the worst part of it,” mumbled Shady, quietly, “It’s like… you’d think I’d have learned by now that a fucking idiot like Rumble is always going to be a fucking idiot like Rumble, right? You think I’d know that tonight would have gone down exactly like it did, hey? Because that’s how it always happens. And then... here I am, bitching to you about it like some kind of asshole.”

The pony chuckled, then Shady did, then he sighed and bowed his head,

“I really don’t even know why I try,”

He felt a nudge at his waist while the stallion beside him shifted his weight from his left side to his right, pushing up against Shady’s body. It almost felt nice. Almost.

“I think you do,” said the stallion, “You seem like a smart enough guy.”

“Smart enough?” Shady repeated, “Smart enough for what?”

“You like him,” said the stallion.

“What? No. No way,” Shady grunted, throwing himself forwards in his seat and meeting harsh, judgemental eyes with the still soft, gentle, ones of the stallion, “That’s dumb. You’re being dumb.”

The older stallion reared his left eyebrow upwards, “Am I? Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Shady asserted, bluntly, “I mean, yeah, we’re really good friends, and, like, yeah he’s definitely got a nice body, and-”

Fuck.

The grin from the older stallion came hard like a kick to the scrotum, “And? I don’t mean to offend you here, but you’ve been sitting here talking about how great this kid is so much that I want to meet him.”

“Fine,” Shady sighed, “Okay. Let’s say I do like him? So-fucking-what? That doesn't change the fact that he’s a two faced, shit-eating, ass clown.”

“No,” the stallion said, sighing, “No it doesn’t.”

“Well then what good is it?” Shady asked, “It’s not like if he knew that, maybe, I wanted to jump his bones it would really make him feel the same way. And… Oh, fuck. Let’s say you’re right and… Let’s say I’m gay for Rumble. If fucking Thunderlane, or, oh Celestia, if fucking Brolly... if either of those two pricks knew? Oh, geez. They already wail on me enough as it is. I really, really, really, don’t need to find out how much worse it can get for me."

The stallion pet him. Shady fell under the touch. He twisted his neck to meet the feel of the fetlock digging into him, rubbing the aches and pains while he bit his lower lip so hard he split dry skin open.

Shady sighed, “It… It fucking sucks, dude,”

“I know,”

“No… No you don’t,” said Shady, “I… want- I wish it could go back to the way things were, and-” he clenched his jaw and shook his head, “And who fucking cares? Honestly? Who cares? Like in the grand scheme of things this is such a dumb thing to complain about. Really. There’s like… There are zebras starving to death out there. There are Buffalos loosing land to settler ponies, and all the Manticores are going extinct, and-”

The older pony’s hoof fell on his lap, rubbed him and Shady found himself grinning despite his best intentions not too.

“So what if I like Rumble,” he said, “He’s still an ass. That’s not going to change.”

Years. Months. Days. It didn’t matter how long he’d been waiting to say it, because, right here, right now, it made more sense to admit it out loud to a stranger than it had ever contemplating it in his head.

He felt a hard surface press into his side and realized the stallion beside him was prodding him, “Feel any better?”

Shady rubbed his cheek. The bad one. “Not really.”

The stallion hummed then lurched upright, “I’d like to use the stallion’s room I think,”

The stallion trotted forwards, towards a dusty cabin which Shady assumed was the public restroom. He stopped, midway, and turned back to face Shady with a soft, enduring, sort of grin playing across his face, “Coming?”

Shady cocked his head sideways, “Am I… coming to the bathroom with you?”

The stallion tapped the spot under his nose, above his upper lip, “You’ve got some, um, blood there…” he said, “You might wanna wash up?”

Shady touched his lip with his hoof and when he pulled it back he could see wine coloured blotches staining his fetlock, “Oh…”

It must have been from one of the many falls he’d taken that night, or from the force of Rumble’s hoof connecting with his cheek. It didn’t really matter. A good washing was in order. Not just to get rid of the blood, but also the dirt, and the mud, and all the other filth he’d accumulated on himself from his many rigorous physical lectures in the pitfalls of gravity that night.

He got up and followed the older stallion to the bathroom.

It was dark, and dingy, and reeked of mismanagement and underfunding towards the parks and recreation department. The fluorescent bulbs flickered, there were an infinite number of curses written on the walls and it stank of lemon scented antiseptic chemical wash.

Class was an elegance this public bathroom lacked in spades.

The older stallion trotted to a urinal and got to his hind legs while Shady walked to the cleanest part of the mirror; even through the cracks, and looking past where some highly educated colt with access to a magic marker had written; ‘Gryphon pussy tastes like feathers’, he could still make out the mess that he was; heavy bags under his eyes, a fat, swollen and bloodied lip, an ugly lump on the side of his face, grey from where dirt had stuck to his fur.

Quietly he turned the sink on, splashed cold water on his face and started to scrub his face with his fetlocks. Blood and dirt mixed with soap and water and rolled off his chin and down the sink. After several minutes of scrubbing he pulled his hooves away and glanced at himself again; he looked clean(ish) now, the blood was gone, so was all the dirt, but the fat lip and welt remained.

Shady snapped his tongue. The noise bounced off the walls. He watched the rest of the murky, brown/red water circle the drain when he felt a very warm, very furry, surface press against his back. Then a pair of appendages wrap around his waist.

Something hard prodded him in the back.

The fight part of his defensive mode kicked in. He pushed the older pony off of him, spun around and faced him with a sneering scowl while he took a defensive position.

“Dude... WHAT THE FUCK?”

The older stallion’s eyes got sad and he frowned, “What?”

Shady swallowed, “Are you… Did you just try to…”

“I’m just being friendly,” he said, once again, “What’s the problem?”

“You’re fucking… You just tried to molest me!”

“Molest?” The older cocked his head sideways, “No, no, no... Not at all. Are we not going to be doing this, though? You seemed quite excitable earlier.”

“Do?” Shady gawked, “What the fuck do you mean ‘Do’,?”

“You don’t have to be so guarded. I promise that this is a safe place for it,” said the stallion, “Nopony who judges ever comes in here past ten. Trust me.”

“What… What the fuck are you talking about?”

The stallion’s eyes shrank, his brows fell and he dropped his head, “I’m too old. Is that it?”

“Too old?” Shady said, “I don’t- What… What exactly is happening here?”

“They said this spot was great for cruising,” said the stallion, sniffing, “I- It’s me, isn’t it?”

“Cruising?” Shady asked, “As in, like… Do you mean, like, gay sex with strangers? Is that… Is that what’s happening?”

At the words ‘Anonymous’, ‘Gay’, and ‘Sex’ the stallion’s ears twitched and he lifted his head. A hopeful, dopey smile spread across his face, “Well, yes,” he said, tapping the floor, “This is the spot I was recommended at the spa.”

Shady felt his tongue trying desperately to suffocate him. He choked it up, blinked his eyes and when he was finished found himself not awake from the nightmare. He was still staring at the older pony, who still looked just as ready to pounce him as he had five minutes ago.

Shady coughed, “Dude…”

A blush spread across the older stallion’s cheeks. He kicked an empty toilet paper roll across the floor, lifted his head softly and smiled at Shady, “You- You could call me ‘Rumble’ if you’d like too?”

Shady hacked, “Weak, dude...”

The signs had all been there. The touching. The rubbing. The brushing. The older pony taking an interest in his gayest, saddest, sob story. The way that the older pony’s eyes had glistened after he’d admitted to wanting a stallion he couldn’t possibly have. Shady might have considered himself a tease, if the situation wasn’t so terribly awkward...

“I… uh… Well, um- So, hey… Here’s the thing,” Shady began, “Um, uh- If I came across as flirty, I’m- I’m sorry about that. But, I can’t- I don’t want to do this.”

The older stallion’s sagged, pained, expression came over his face again and he moved backwards until his rear hit a stall wall and he slumped against the dirty floor.

“But, see I-” Shady continued, “Um… There’s, uh- Now, look, not that there’s anything wrong with, uh, y’know… cruising, or anything. I just- I don’t, um, personally, enjoy it?”

Hopefully this might keep the older stallion from either A) Killing himself, or — far worse — B) Killing Shady.

“But, um, you’re… certainly an attractive enough guy,” Shady said, and, in fact, he wasn’t lying; he was good looking. He wasn’t quite Shady’s cup of tea — in fact, Shady tended to lean more towards self destructive heterosexual colts who boozed, did drugs, loved to flaunt their sexy bodies around their best friends ignorantly, and also who sometimes happened to strike him in the face after calling him horrendously homophobic terms — but the older stallion certainly was good looking in his own way.

The older colt’s dim frown lifted and his eyes peeked up at Shady, “R-really?

“Oh yeah. Totally,” Shady nodded, “You’re, uh… totally a hunk. And, um… So, like… maybe… I mean- There’s definitely bound to be someone out there who’d, uh, totally want to cruise with you someday, dude.”

The stallion moved forwards and when he lifted his left leg Shady flinched backwards, until it landed softly on his shoulder, “You’re… very, very, kind,” said the stallion, “Kind, and cute.”

Shady flinched, “Uh, thanks…”

“Are you,” the stallion wiggled his eyebrows, suggestively, “Quite sure you don’t want to do this?”

Shady’s face fell flat, “Very.”

“Hmm, I can’t say I’m not disappointed,” said the stallion, still smiling, “Or that you’re not missing out. I’ve been told I’m quite a… generous lover.”

A hefty combination of stomach acid, bile, beer and whiskey boiled in his stomach and made it up to Shady’s throat. He swallowed it down.

“I’ll pass.”

“Suit yourself,” said the stallion with a boyish grin, “If you ever get tired of pining after this Rumble, or if he never realizes how lucky he is… and begin to realize how much of an ass he is, do come and find me? I work at the post office. I’ve been told I look quite dapper in my uniform,” he grinned, “Although I certainly look better without it.”

He growled.

The desire to vomit — profusely — anywhere near enough to the older stallion that he could use it as an excuse to leave came and went, and, even with the still pleading, inviting, look on his face, Shady shook his head, pushed off the sink and trotted out the door. Only looking back to reassure himself he wasn’t about to get pounced on.

Outside the bathroom Shady waited a few minutes to make sure he wasn’t likely to be followed, then decided to leave for the unknown. There weren’t many options he had. Twist’s place was too far, and, on top of that without Twist there he’d just be keeping awkward company with her parents, trying desperately to act sober. Button’s house wouldn’t work either. Once Ms. Mash noted the suspicious absence of her son, and then saw the welt on his face she’d ask questions that he didn’t really want to answer.

What options were there?

The Rumble/Thunderlane/Brolly/Cloud-Kicker abode? That was one. They kept the back door unlocked for stragglers. There were Wonderbolts sheets in the linen closet and the couch in the living room had been broken in to the point of almost being comfortable to spend a night sleeping restlessly on. His hesitations came in two forms, the first was that at some point Rumble was likely to stumble in and he’d have to deal with him, and the second came from knowing that after his conversation with Brolly he was probably going to wake up shaved naked and with a sharpie marker shoved up his rectum.

He grunted.

Having cocks and curse words shaved into his fur wasn’t much worse than spending a night under some bridge like some desolate hobo, he figured. If he was lucky there might be a few grams of cloves and some rolling papers lying around that no one would notice go missing. This would make the entire ordeal far more bearable.

Smiling, Shady kicked off the park bench and trotted towards Rumble’s place.

***

“I feel a powerful lust for ethnic food,” Rumble was saying, “Saddle Arabian, maybe. I could munch up on some fuckin’ samosas right now. Y’know? Or, like, a falafel or something.”

Button was busy watching the way that his hooves made funny looking patterns in the moist grass every time he lifted one of his front hooves. He turned his eyes up and smiled, dimly, at Rumble, “Uh, yeah. Falafels are alright. I guess...”

Rumble licked his lips, “I’m pretty sure that place Secretariat’s is open all night. I think they sell beers and malt liquor too. Talk about a total fuckin’ win-win, eh?”

“Right, right,” said Button, staring past Rumble and towards the stretch of concrete road and empty, lifeless, cottages ahead, “Falafels and malt liquor. That’s always fun.”

Rumble tapped him on the shoulder, “What’s up with you?”

Button turned to him and blinked, “Huh?”

“You’ve been like a fuckin’ zombie for the last couple blocks,” said Rumble, “Why? What’s up?”

Button shrugged, “I’m just a little tired, Rumble.”

Rumble stared solemnly at him with a darkness in his eyes that cut through him, “Is this about what happened with that bitch-ass, Shady?”

“Actually? Yeah. It is,” Button said, his tone more commanding and domineering than he’d expected from himself, “You were a real butthole to him, Rumble.”

“Oh fuck off about that shit,” Rumble grunted, “He’ll be fine, Button. I’m sure he’s probably super fucking busy worrying about where to flap his vagina next-”

“Rumble. Geez,” Button hissed, “You’re being a real jerk about all of this. You know that, right?”

“What-the-fuck-ever,” Rumble rolled his eyes, “That jizz-mop really didn’t have to say any of that shit about Flitter...”

“Okay,” Button Mash glared ugly at him, “But you really didn’t have to call him a gosh-darned faggot either, Rumble.”

The tone in his voice had turned cold and nasty. Rumble could sense the resentment, and the anger, and, he smiled a pitifully weak thing at Button.

“He’s a big boy,” Rumble insisted, “I reckon our little mouthy amigo can take care of himself.”

“Maybe. But he wouldn’t have to if you’d just frickin’ apologized to him,” Button said, curtly, “It’s like… Sometimes it seems like- Well… Do you even care about him, Rumble? Honestly? Do you? I know he can get a bit melodramatic about this stuff, but he’s still our best friend. And he’s out there somewhere, totally ticked off, all alone… and you’re here talking about wanting to get some stupid falafels? That’s pretty messed up.”

Rumble stopped for a moment and stayed completely silent. The lines on his face creased while he moved his jaw from the left to the right. Bloodstained pupils shrank. For a few minutes he looked as close to remorseful for his actions as he had all night.

“It’s not like there’s anything I can do about it,” he said.

Button Mash noted his hesitations, and considered for a moment the limitations of Rumble’s fragile understanding of other ponies emotional states. He sighed and shook his head,

“Not unless you want to, Rumble.”

Coyly, Rumble allowed his wings to expand, wrap around his body and stopped moving long enough for Button to notice. When Button turned to him, he was biting his lower lip and clicking his tongue.

“It’s not my fault that he’s such a freaking drama queen, alright?” said Rumble, “C’mon, Button. You know what he’s like when he gets like this; Shady’s like a fuckin’ menstrual cycle wrapped in heat flashes and menopause,” Rumble said, then rolled a hard ‘R’ off of his tongue, “We’ve been friends since we were, like, five or some shit and even I don’t understand the guy sometimes-”

“Yes. You have been friends since you were five. That should mean a whole lot more to you than it does,” Button huffed, shaking his head, “And what’s even to get? He’s angry at you because you really hurt him Rumble.”

“Well… like, if he’d just… stopped when I told him too,” Rumble said, biting his lip, “Like, if he’d just fucking listened to me when I-”

“Then what?” Button said, “Then you wouldn’t have punched him in the freakin’ face?”

A glimmer of light got caught in Rumble’s eyes. He blinked and when he did something that looked like wet streaks across his cheeks shined. Bowing his head, he dragged his tongue across his dry, cracked, lips.

“I really shouldn’t have done that,” he said to the ground, “That was wrong.”

“Yeah. It was,” Button hissed, “It was really messed up.”

Silence for a few minutes. Rumble still hugged himself with his wings and Button stood quietly kicking the ground, until he lifted his head up.

“I don’t understand you two sometimes,” he said to a curious look from Rumble, “It’s not like this is the first time you guys have ever fought before. And… um, well, it’s not usually as intense as tonight. But you two do fight a lot for two guys who say they’re best friends.”

Rumble licked his lips and huffed, “Shady’s got some strong opinions about things,”

“So do you, Rumble.”

Rumble picked his head back up, un folded his wings and stepped forwards, “What am I supposed to say here, Button?” he said and then grunted, “Do you want us to go look for him? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

Button stomped his hoof into the ground, “It’s the right thing to do.”

“If he’s still pissed…” Rumble began, then stopped and hummed, “Look, I… If I get a chance tonight I’ll try and make it up to him, okay? But, right now he’s probably too pissed off to want to talk to either of us, and- Yeah. Space, Button. Shady needs some space from us. That’s what he needs right now.”

Button threw a mean and ugly glare at Rumble for insinuating that he was in any way, shape or form at all to blame. This went ignored by Rumble, who only spread his wings open, folded them across his back and cracked his neck. He shook in place, shaking a cold chill out of his spine, then slapped a handsome, charming, smile to Button.

“I say give it a day or two and he’ll be a-okay,” he said, still smiling, “Shit, I bet by the time he wakes up tomorrow he won’t even remember half of the crazy stuff that happened tonight-” he got a pleading, pained expression from Button that he brushed aside with a wry grin, “Trust me, Button. Everything will be fine by tomorrow.”

Button grumbled an exasperated ‘Hmm’ under his breath, “If you say so…”

“Chin up, eh?” Rumble said, nudging Button’s stomach with his elbow, “Stable Avenue is only a few blocks from here. We’ll get some cold beers, some good munch, and then we’ll figure out what to do with the rest of the night. Sound good?”

Not really.

“Sure,” Button said, “I guess...”

Rumble smiled. Button faked his, and then they were off again.

Comments

[One Lucky Gamer]

yes....YES.... FEED ME MORE OF THIS GLORIOUS STORY!!!

Keep up the good work as always.

[Samey90]

‘Gryphon pussy tastes like feathers’

I wonder if he was writing from experience...

[djthomp]

Oh my god, Shady, how oblivious can you be?

“Trust me, Button. Everything will be fine by tomorrow.”

That would be nice, as unlikely as it seems.

[Shellybox]

5849784 It will be, but not how you expect, remember, Shady is going back to Rumble's house, they are probably going to meet up and talk, something happens there, and it will be important.

[SageBrony07]

I feel sorry for shady. I hope Rumble realize how stupid he is being. Great job.

[TheTiredQuill]

Man, if I were Shady I might've actually taken that stallion up on his offer, what with Rumble being a gigantic ass and everything. I also really love the scene where Rumble starts to realize what an asshole he (was being) is.

[Hasardeur]

Thank god you, that what I initially assumed to happen didn't happen. This was far better.