> Sex and Porch Beer
>  by Vivid Syntax
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Just Seven More Days
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Comet Flare heaved a heavy, wet sigh as he settled into one of the weathered chairs on the porch. Sweat rolled off his face and back, giving his violet coat a subtle sheen. The cool breeze of the early summer brushed against him, and the sudden chill fought against the massive amount of heat leftover in his body. The throbbing in his skull signaled overexertion and dehydration, but it felt satisfying all the same. He let his eyes close and his mouth hang slack. He didn't breathe, instead basking in the utter stillness. He loved this weekly ritual, and he winced as he remembered why they'd missed it last time.

His afterglow twisted itself up into an ugly knot, and he told himself that he and Iron would have to talk about it, even as the thought of doing so choked him. Comet sucked in a quick breath. He furrowed his eyebrows and grit his teeth as he tried to think about the beautiful day or the sex or even work, but all he could picture was a large, terrifyingly still pony lying in a hospital bed.

The back door of the house whined open, derailing Comet's train of thought. His ear flicked as he took another big breath and let it out slowly. 

The wooden boards on the porch creaked as heavy hoofsteps approached. They stopped next to him, and a low voice rumbled, "Stout?" Comet turned to see his friend Iron Forge offer him a bottle. Iron loomed over him, a neutral expression on his face. Iron took deep, labored breaths. His deep blue coat shimmered the same way Comet's did, highlighted by the stallion's beautiful black-and-silver mane.

Comet smiled and bit his lower lip, recognizing the label on the bottle. "Hell yeah, thanks. I love these." 

Iron smirked back. "I know."

Comet took the bottle and dragged it across his forehead. His headache spiked at the sudden temperature difference, but at the same time, the coolness of the bottle quieted his throbbing temples. Comet moaned loudly, convinced it was a good trade-off.

"Heh heh. Should I be worried about you sticking that bottle somewhere?" Iron lowered himself onto another chair, identical to Comet's. They sat close together with only a small table between them. Iron picked up the bottle opener and opened his bottle with a tsik.

"Ha!" Comet took the opener from Iron and rolled his eyes. "Nah. I'm worn out for the day." Tsik. The bottle cap fell to the floorboards, joining a growing, scattered pile that they swore they'd clean up sooner or later.

"Bullshit," Iron chuckled as he gave Comet a sideways look. "You'd go again in ten minutes if I gave you half a chance."

"You got me." Comet held out his stout towards Iron. "You do good work. We both do."

"Cheers to that." They clinked the bottles together and drank, savoring the coolness and the malty, sweet flavor of their stouts. They'd joked in the past about drinking what was essentially chocolate milk for stallions, but it never stopped them. With a collective sigh, they set their bottles on the little table between their chairs.

The late, tranquil afternoon felt like a landscape. Iron's home sat at the edge of Ponyville, overlooking wide open fields and rolling hills, and from his porch, they could see clear to the Everfree without any sight of the neighbors. 

Comet loved this place, their favorite little resting spot for recovering from their favorite little hobby. It was uncomplicated, this weekly practice of theirs, and even if very few other ponies would have approved, it didn't matter to them. They'd figured out a way to show each other they cared, and on these afternoons, the rest of life's grievances couldn't touch them. 

After shaking off a thought about the sedative effects of alcohol, Comet turned to Iron. Casually, he asked, "Did you like that little move with my back hoof?"

Iron shrugged. He said flatly, "It was fine." His default answer, the one that always meant there was more, if only one was patient enough to listen.

Comet narrowed his eyes with a smirk, then reached over and playfully batted at Iron's shoulder. "Just fine?"

The ensuing pause was long, but comfortable. Iron furrowed his brows, took another swig of his stout, and rocked his head back and forth. Comet waited silently, a growing smile on his face, and after nearly a full minute, Iron took another breath. "It was… weird at first. Like, 'What's he gonna do?' But then the shock wore off, and…" Iron's expression softened, and his eyes unfocused. "Yeah. It was good. Really good." 

Comet gave a smug nod. "I knew it. You haven't gasped like that in a while."

Iron hid a blush behind another swig. "Yeah, I suppose." He cocked his head back. "Cinnamon likes that one, too?"

Comet snickered. "Nah. She hated it."

Iron sat up suddenly, waving a hoof and chuckling. "Wait, so you tried something on your wife, she hated it, and you still–"

Comet threw up his forehooves. "It was worth another shot!" The friends shared a round of laughter, and then Comet wiped his eye with a fetlock. "I mean, I would have liked it, and you and Cinnamon have different tastes, anyway."

Iron shrugged. "Yeah, fair." He looked out at the rolling hills and the lake in the distance. "You should bring her around again. She's nice. Great body, too, and she knows how to use it."

"I'll let her know you said so." Comet winked.

Iron looked out at the fields in front of them. "Think she wants to have more fun sometime?"

Comet took another long pull of the stout. "Eh, I've asked her. She liked experimenting, but I think she's–" He paused, then snorted a laugh. He mumbled, "Sorry, I was going to say she's had her fill."

Iron slapped the foreleg rest and let out a rumbling laugh. "Hahaha! Well, she ain't wrong."

Comet grinned and shook his head. "Yeah, you're right." As he lifted his bottle, he mumbled, "Especially in your case."

Iron gave a prideful grimace. "Yeah, I got lucky down there."

"We all got lucky," Comet added.

Comet's shoulders had relaxed. His whole body had, but whenever the conversation lulled, he felt those images creeping back into his mind. He felt heavier and heavier the longer the silence lasted, and he could feel the upcoming conversation like a predator breathing down the back of his neck.

Iron burped and scratched at his chin. "She, uh… She still good? With all this?"

Comet released a breath that the hadn't realized he was holding. He smiled. "Oh yeah. She's just happy I have an outlet with somepony I trust."

"She's a damn fine mare, then. One in a million." Iron raised his bottle in a small salute.

Comet did the same. "You got that right."

The stallions drank and then moaned their approval together, their breaths slowing to nearly normal. Comet ran the bottle across his head again, then his chest. His fur wicked away the condensation, cooling him, and he rotated the bottle to get every drop. Iron Forge remained still, almost statue-like except for the rhythmic movement of his chest.

Insects buzzed around the flowers that lined the porch. The sun evaporated the morning rain from the grass, creating little ripples in the air, and at the nearby lake, a pair of ducks landed in the water with graceful splash. 

As his afterglow faded completely, Comet felt a dark pit form in his chest again. It was the same tightness that he'd felt so suddenly a week ago, one that he hadn't been able to ignore since. It gnawed at him, and he swallowed hard. The air felt heavy, and he knew that Iron could feel it, too. This was their first quiet moment since the hospital, and as much as he didn't want to ruin it, he worried what would happen to Iron if he didn't ask.

Comet shifted awkwardly in his chair. Iron remained stoic.

Comet's mouth opened, but nothing came out. He turned to face Iron. He felt pressure at the back of his skull, trying to force the words out, just like he'd practiced. "You–" It caught in his throat. 

Iron turned his head, then remained motionless. His neutral expression had bent downwards almost imperceptibly, and his ashy, grey eyes seemed bigger. Sadder. The air took on a slight chill.

Comet swallowed hard. "You got any plans for the holiday?" Outwardly, he grimaced. Inwardly, he sneered.

Iron frowned and looked out at the scenery again. "No," he grunted. He took another drink.

Mechanically, Comet did the same. His words were rapid and clipped. "That's okay, too. It should be a relaxing weekend, at least. That'll be nice." He cursed himself for his inability to just come out and say what he was feeling, and a scream rattled around inside him.

Gritting his teeth, Comet looked at the Equestrian landscape. It was so beautiful, so manicured and perfect. He wondered if the princesses made it that way so that all the insidious troubles of the world would be easier to ignore. For a second, he hated the beautiful summer day. It felt like a rug that every problem got swept under.

"You can say it," Iron said directly, snapping Comet back to the present.

Comet couldn't look at his friend, but he knew. Iron had always been able to see through his veneer of politeness and understand what was really going on. It was one of the reasons he trusted him so much, but at the same time, it brought all the discomfort of the moment to the forefront. 

From the corner of his eye, Comet saw Iron hang his head and continue. "You're gonna ask it anyway. Just get it over with." His tone had softened. All the force had drained out of it.

A lump in his throat, Comet turned away. "Sorry. I'm trying, but…" He shook his head and shivered at a new chill in the air. His mouth ran off without his consent. "It's tough to even ask about. I don't know where you're at, or what was going through your head, and I don't want to, like…" He waved a hoof rapidly through the air. "…trigger something that might make you try it again, even though I know that's not what the research says."

He took another quick swig of his stout, rolled the roasty flavor around in his mouth, and set the bottle back down. "But why the fuck am I going on about research?" He dragged a hoof through his mane.  "Because I don't know what to do, I guess? I want you to know deep down that I'm here for you, but just saying it doesn't feel like enough, but I don't know what else I can do. I haven't stopped thinking about it all week."

"You think I have?"

Comet felt his chest crumble. He was jealous of Iron's ability to say so much in so few words, whereas he seemed to ramble forever without saying anything.

Iron remained still, and Comet fidgeted through a long, quiet moment.

With a groan, Iron said, "Comet, I'm… I can't talk about this by myself."

Comet looked back at Iron, whose head was still hung low. He felt like the door was partway open. "Are you asking for help?"

Iron paused. He paused some more. His eyes were down at the floorboards of the porch, and every few seconds, his lips would part, but no words came out. Iron's breathing got heavier, and his posture collapsed, little by little.

Taking a deep, slow breath, Comet rotated his shoulders back and tried his best to project comfort. Gently, he said, "Would you like me to start?"

Iron whispered, "Yes."

The pressure at the back of Comet's skull built up again, and now that he had his friend's permission, he sighed and cleared his throat. Finally, he said, softly, stiffly, just like he'd practiced, "You weren't here last week."

Iron stifled a tiny sob.

The seconds stretched on like hours, but Comet let Iron take his time.

Iron's head shook slowly. "No, I wasn't." His voice was heavy, full of resignation.

Comet stiffened and sat straighter, forcing himself to continue. "I came to the hospital as soon as we found out what you'd–" He bit his tongue, closed his eyes, and tried again. "I came as soon as I heard. Cinnamon did, too. Right away."

Barely above a whisper, Iron said, "I know. Seed Sifter told me." His tail twitched behind him. "I guess I'm lucky he found me."

Comet's chest felt exposed, like the wind was blowing through his ribcage and causing his heart to shiver and tighten. He forced himself to finish. "You… promised you'd come talk to me if you were… if it got bad enough that you were going to do it." He grunted and gritted his teeth, wishing he was brave enough to say it.

His words felt like they were hanging in the air and echoing off the wind, but the insects kept buzzing. The dew kept evaporating. The ducks kept swimming, and nopony else in Equestria paid them any heed.

Iron's eyes went dark, and his gaze lowered further. Softly, he responded with a sarcastic bend to his voice. "I did promise that, didn't I?"

Comet's chest loosened, but the feeling was immediately replaced by a gaping, cold void. He sucked in a quick breath, then let it out with a huff. "But you didn't."

Iron paused again. "Nope." He didn't move.

Comet's lip quivered, and he blinked his wet eyes. He felt like, no matter what he said, he wouldn't be able to close the distance between the two of them, but if he didn't say anything, the gulf would only expand further. Trying to inject false confidence into his words, he said with a cracking voice, "You scared me, Iron."

With a shrug, Iron whispered, "I scared myself, too."

Comet looked out at the fields again, and his mind drifted. He wondered briefly if he was talking to a ghost, if Iron's attempt had succeeded and he hadn't actually survived. It was a comforting feeling to think of it that way, so detached and ethereal, but Comet snorted and reminded himself that that comfortable numbness was a siren song, one that left nothing but pain behind. He shook his head and brought himself back to the present, to the living friend beside him.

"What did it feel like?" He quickly jerked his head towards Iron. "Sorry! N-not the part with the pills. Leading up to it."

Iron hadn't moved. He rumbled, "I dunno."

Comet frowned. "You can tell me."

"You already know."

Comet relaxed his shoulders and forced himself to keep breathing. "I only know what it was like for me." He was surprised how easily those words came to him. In a twisted way, it helped to see somepony else struggling with the same things he had. It made it easier to dredge up those dark feelings. He only hoped he could help Iron the same way.

Iron's head shook subtly. "So what's it like?"

"It was a long time ago," Comet mumbled.

"But you never forget."

Comet groaned. "It's…" He held up a hoof and waved it around, searching for how to put it. "It's like there's this other pony. Like he's standing right behind me, and he's got this smooth voice. And he tells me that it'd be a good idea to just end it. That it's not going to be any better. I can't ever see him, but he's there, and he just won't quit." Comet's fur prickled. "Even when he quiets down sometimes, it's like I'm just waiting for him to come back and push me over the edge."

Iron mumbled, "Yeah. Like that or whatever."

Comet furrowed his eyebrows. "Seriously? That's it?"

Iron shrunk slightly. He didn't say anything.

Comet relaxed his face, cursing himself again for making assumptions and lashing out. He tried to drink more of his stout, but all that was left was foam. He looked over to Iron's bottle and saw that it was empty, too. With an annoyed grunt, he stood and said, "I'll get more."

The walk to the kitchen was familiar, but his legs felt heavy. Standing at the fridge, Comet's hoof hovered over the new bottles for a moment, and he wondered if drinking more was a bad idea. He knew alcoholism and suicide went hoof-in-hoof, but he also remembered somepony telling him about putting out the fire before worrying if the kitchen was messy. Or something.

Comet returned and set two amber ales down on the little table. Iron hadn't moved, so Comet picked up the bottle opener.

Tsik. 

Tsik.

Comet sat down and took a drink. Slowly, he said, "Take your time." His instincts kept telling him to say more, but his experience told him that Iron needed the time to process. 

Comet frowned when he realized that wasn't all that Iron needed. He looked at the table between them, set his beer on it, and stood up. He pulled the table away and slid his own chair next to Iron's, angling it slightly. Comet sat down again, put a foreleg around the larger stallion and then pulled him in for a hug. 

Iron flopped towards Comet like a large doll. His big, warm head rested on Comet's shoulder, and Comet set his own head on top of his friend's.

It felt like hugging a warm statue.

The pressure came back, and Comet wanted to say anything. The silence dug into him, and his mind raced with thoughts of how saying something stupid was better than saying nothing. But he held on.

He wondered why a hug, such simple intimacy, felt so hard, especially given what they'd been doing not thirty minutes prior. This one had another layer, though, something deeper than skin and muscle, something much more fragile that needed an extra measure of delicacy.

Comet kissed Iron's forehead. Neither of them completely understand why.

They stayed like that for almost ten minutes before Iron said, "It was like a fugue."

Instinctively, Comet squeezed him. They held for another two minutes, motionless.

Iron's head shook softly. "It was like I didn't have control. Like I just made the decision without… making it, I guess. Like I'm watching somepony else pilot my body, and one step at a time, I'm walking to the bathroom, opening the bottle, and holding all those fucking pills in one hoof."

Comet's throat sealed shut. He held steady.

Iron took a shaky breath. "I don't know. I knew I shouldn't have. I didn't want to. But I did." He wiped a fetlock across his face, and his breathing was labored. "I knew it would make you sad. I knew how much it would hurt all of you, okay? But I'm a greedy motherfucker. I did it anyway."

Comet finally spoke. "You're not greedy. You just needed help."

"Fuck off," Iron said, lacking energy.

Comet squeezed tighter. Iron went slack. They held for four minutes.

Iron mumbled, "It's not your fault."

Comet's ear flicked, and he raised an eyebrow at the scenery. He tried to turn to look at Iron, but his head refused to move. "Should I be worried that it was?"

Iron's head shook a few times against Comet's shoulder. "No. But I get… jealous." He pressed his head harder into Comet's shoulder. "You have Cinnamon, and a good job, and things always seem great for you."

Comet mumbled, "On the outside, maybe."

"But at least you have that." Iron heaved slightly. "What do I have?"

With a steady hoof, Comet stroked Iron's mane. "You have a friend, Iron."

Iron tensed, then relaxed. After a beat, he said, "Yeah…" He sat up and shrugged off Comet's hug. "And I feel like I don't deserve it sometimes."

Comet relaxed back into his chair. "You and me both."

Iron's chest rumbled. "Heh. You feel like I don't deserve you?"

Comet's eyes widened, and he quickly spun his head to look at Iron. "N-no! I-I mean, I feel like I don't deserve you sometimes." He slapped a hoof to his face. "Sorry! Sorry. I didn't meant that to sound that way."

With a small laugh and a flick of his tail, Iron said, "You're fine. I knew what you meant."

"Heh. Still." Comet smiled weakly. 

They remained silent for a few more minutes. Eventually, Iron sat up straight in his chair and looked out at the scenery. Comet followed suit.

The temperature had risen slightly, and the air was starting to get muggy. The insects buzzed louder, and the ducks had flown away when neither of the stallions were looking. Tension still hung in the air, lessened but still present. Neither pony spoke for three minutes.

Finally, Iron reached out and patted Comet's hoof reassuringly. "You know, for a couple of extrasexual stallions, we sure suck at being intimate sometimes."

Comet shrugged and gave a hollow laugh. "Something to work on, I guess."

Iron let his hoof linger. 

Comet didn't try to pull away, and he stared at Iron's hoof on top of his. "It feels like we didn't say all that much. Like I'm supposed to say more."

With a chuckle, Iron said, "You always feel like you need to say more." He withdrew his hoof, and he shook his head. "But I don't know what else there is to say. It happened. I don't want it to happen again." He said sternly, "And if it does, you can't blame yourself."

Comet's blood froze, and he said quietly, "I would, though."

Iron shook his head. "Then that's one more reason I can't let it happen again. I wouldn't want you to feel sad. You're a good friend. You deserve to be happy."

Comet frowned. "You do, too."

"I know."

The stallions breathed in the fresh air. They felt the last of their excess heat leave their bodies, and for a long, lazy half hour, they wordlessly sipped their beers and watched the time roll by. Their empty bottles sat on the floor next to their chairs, and eventually, Comet stirred. "I… think it's time for me to head back."

Iron nodded. "Mmhmm."

Comet jerked his head towards the far side of the house. "You want to come for dinner? Cinnamon would love to see you again."

Iron's expression flattened. "You afraid I'm gonna to do it again?"

"Yeah, but that's not why I'm inviting you." Comet looked out at the grass. "You don't have to feel alone. I don't want you to." He swallowed. "I don't ever want you to feel that way. You're my friend." His words felt so small and inadequate. He felt the same way.

Iron nodded slowly. "You're mine, too. But no. I'm… not really up to it right now, I think."

After a stiff pause, Comet whispered, "That's okay."

Iron's voice was soft and low and comforting. "I hope you have a good night. And… thanks."

"You're welcome." Comet swallowed a lump in his throat. "I'll see you same time next week, right?"

"Right."

"Promise?"

Iron frowned. "Would it even mean anything? You know I don't keep promises."

Comet's face scrunched up. "It would mean something. To me, at least. Just… make it to next week, okay?"

Iron thought a moment, then said, "Yeah. Okay. I promise. I can make it seven days."

Comet eyed his friend as he slowly got up from his chair. "Thank you," he said, giving Iron one more hug. Comet stepped off the porch and into the field, then rounded the corner to head home. Stealing one more glance of his stoic friend, he prayed for the week to pass quickly.