At the Speed of Gay
“Sign here.”
Zephyr Breeze wiggled the pen in his mouth as he signed the waiver. He did so with an excessive amount of flourish, writing a stream of utter nonsense on the empty line.
“And write your name on this tag here. Make sure it's legible.”
Doing only partially what he was told, Zephyr wrote a series of jagged lines onto his name tag that could theoretically read as his name. He peeled off the sticker and slapped it onto his ruffled blue jacket with a wing.
“And you’re all set…” Pony Joe (he preferred just Joe) squinted at Zephyr’s nametag “...Marvin.” Under his breath, he whispered, “what kind of name is Marvin?” He glanced at the waiver signature. “Sorry, Melvin?”
“Zephyr, babe,” Zephyr corrected as leaned on the sign-up table, a smarmy grin on his face. He gave Joe a wing gun, two primaries in the shape of an ‘L’ while clicking his tongue off the back of his teeth. “And if you’re free, we should hang later. See the stars.”
Joe looked outside at the raging snowstorm that assaulted every available surface in a pure blanket of white. He looked back at Zephyr and took in his scruffy appearance. Calculating his attractiveness as a negative two, or, as the frequently hit upon stallion for this event liked to categorize as, not worth getting stuck in a blizzard with.
“Save the flirting for the event,” Joe responded. He jerked a hoof towards the propped-open door. “Make sure to follow the rules.”
Giving a mock salute, Zephyr trotted into the building that hosted the biggest pre-Hearth’s Warming event of the season.
The Holiday Speed (Of Gay) Date. Parentheses included.
Desks were arranged in a circle in the center of the large open area. Colourful banners hung upon the walls attempting to block out the pure whiteness of the outside so as not to tempt anyone to go home before the storm got worse. Stallions of all sorts meandered about sipping at poorly made spiced eggnog nabbed from a sad-looking refreshment table.
It was Zephyr’s first time and, as a stallion whose preferences in partner defaulted to ‘yes’, was filled with a spark of potential. The sheer desperate energy of the event really made him feel welcome along with signs proclaiming that “You too could have your gay Santa this holiday, or probably not!” and “Be ready to cuddle with the couch this year unless…!”. Truly, this was the kind of event that matched Zephyr’s total dedication to throwing himself at the first guy that told him he was cute.
He was certain that with such a big event and with how hot he looked, he would have plenty of choices.
The basic rules of the speed date were that the stallions would stay seated across from each other at the desks and rotate clockwise along the desks, which would inevitably fall apart halfway through once the cheap booze tossed into the bad eggnog finally kicked in.
Every stallion would have five minutes with their desk partner to shill themselves out, literally or figuratively, before being required to move on to the next. Consensual touching was allowed, however, no physical harm, public displays of affection, going under the desks for reasons, or harassment was allowed (unless they liked that sort of thing).
Due to these rules, punching someone in the face was considered unacceptable and resulted in the straight bouncers removing the aggressor in question.
This was what Zephyr reminded himself of as he nursed the welt on his face by rubbing it gently with a hoof completely confused by what had occurred.
Said aggressor, a large earth pony currently being dragged away by the bouncers, was screaming at the top of his lungs, “I HATE THE NAME XAVIER!”
Narrowing his eyes while puckering his lips in concentration, Zephyr announced, “I give him a 7 out of 10.”
Joe, who had unfortunately been randomly assigned to the seat next to Zephyr at the very end of the line, gave Zephyr a disbelieving look. “Seriously?” He stated. “That guy just slugged you in the face.”
“Yeah, but did you see the size of his legs?” Zephyr leaned on the desk with a dreamy expression. “Woof.”
The stallion sitting across from Zephyr pulled his hat further down his head as he readjusted the oversized sunglasses perched on his nose. He wore a thick bomber jacket over his light blue fur that covered most of his body, but the Wonderbolts logo on the sleeve immediately gave away his identity.
“So, yeah, I’m just looking for a, uh, buddy?” Not-Soarin asked uncertainly. “Yeah, a buddy. To, uh, do gay stuff with.”
Zephyr, being incredibly oblivious, still hadn’t figured out who he was talking to outside of the name on his tag which had been written as ‘Not-Soarin’. “Sure, I’m always looking gay buddies to do gay stuff with,” Zephyr said with a big smile. “What do you have in mind?”
“What do you mean?” Not-Soarin asked.
“Like what gay stuff do you wanna do?”
“Oh! Well, you know.” Not-Soarin chuckled nervously. “I’m into some super intense stuff. Not really appropriate to talk about here.”
“Oh, cool. So like [censored], [censored], and [censored]?” Zephyr replied. “I’ve tried those a few times and they’ve been fun.”
The sunglasses on Not-Soarin’s face slipped down his nose to reveal bright green eyes and a bright red tinge on his cheeks as he stared at Zephyr. “I-I, uh—” he stuttered. “Yeah, totally. I have definitely done… that and would be down for it, but I have something more, uh, intense in mind to try out.”
“Oh, yeah? Like what?” Zephyr asked.
“W-well, it’s pretty lewd, so I’ll have to whisper it to you, uh—” Not-Soarin squinted at Zephyr’s nametag “—Jerome.”
Obliging the request, Zephyr leaned across the desk with a perked ear. Not-Soarin leaned toward the proffered ear and covered his mouth with a hoof as he whispered his desire to Zephyr.
Leaning back, Zephyr happily replied, “oh, yeah, definitely! We can cuddle on a couch and eat apple pie together.”
Not-Soarin smiled.
“We have no time!” Time Turner yelled, slamming his hooves on the table. “You are the one—” He squinted at Zephyr’s nametag, “—Zoomies? I thought your name was Zephyr?”
“It is,” Zephyr replied, thoroughly intrigued.
“Well, it doesn't matter. You are needed, Zephyr! For a task of utmost importance!”
“Ooh, what’s that?” Zephyr asked.
“To save the world!” Time Turner exclaimed.
“Roleplay, love it.” Zephyr rested his head on his hoof, propping it up with the table. “What do I need to do?”
“You must defeat the proods,” Time Turner explained.
“Hot.”
“P-R-O-O-D not P-R-U-D-E,” Time Turner corrected. “They are a menace that will one day eat all of the grass in Equestria and they must be stopped before they can breed beyond our means to control. We need someone so empty-minded that they won’t even think twice about killing them.”
“I love watching your mouth move,” Zephyr noted.
“Exactly. Now, you will need this for your task.” Time Turner hefted a massive glowing cylinder onto the desk. It had gyrating disks encircled around the shaft and emitted strange beeping noises at random intervals.
Zephyr stumbled out of his chair and away from the desk with wide eyes. “Woah, not on a first date!”
“Sir, you can't have those kinds of toys here. Those are at least fourth date material,” one of the bouncers commented. He grabbed the strange cylinder while two others grasped Time Turner.
All three dragged the stallion and device away from the table and towards the exit.
“No, stop! You are dooming us! We need him to stop the catastrophe! HE WAS THE CHOSEN ONE!” Time Turner shouted.
He was then unceremoniously thrown out the door and into the snow along with his contraption. A small boom of sound reverberated from that direction presumably from the machine exploding or malfunctioning.
“Call me!” Zephyr called after him.
“At least he makes things interesting,” Joe commented.
“I’m right here,” Joe’s desk partner interjected with an angry pout.
“Your entire personality is not having one,” Joe retorted. “Don’t even start with me, Caramel.”
“Ooh la la,” Zephyr said, batting his eyelashes. “I never thought I would see the Captain of the Royal Guard here.”
“I’m not Shining Armour, I’m Double Diamond,” Double Diamond grumbled, a scowl on his face. He squinted at Zephyr’s nametag. “I also don’t think your name is Gerard.”
“A cover name, eh? I can work with that.” Zephyr spread himself on the desk showing off… something. “You got let off the leash for the night from the wife? Maybe bored of mares and want a try with forbidden fruit?”
Joe snorted as he tried to contain his laughter.
“I’m a single earth pony who skis,” Double hissed through gritted teeth. “Shining Armour is a unicorn who does… I’m not actually sure. A dad? Is he a house dad now?” He narrowed his eyes in thought. “Prince house dad?”
“Love the cover story for your disguise, should I make something up to? Oh! Yes, I can use, uh, what was the name you said, Gerard? Yes, Gerard!” Zephyr exclaimed happily. (Double’s eye twitched). “I can be a foreign dancer—” He undid his ponytail and tossed his mane back “—From Prance! On the run from the mob and seeking protection from the studly Captain of the Guard while having a hot affair under his wife’s nose.”
“I hate you,” Double stated. “But your mane is fantastic and I feel obligated to ask what product you use to make it that silky.”
“Only the finest from Prance,” Zephyr answered while fluffing his mane.
“Wait, is this still your stupid alter ego thing?”
“Yes,” Zephyr replied. He shot a hopeful look at Double. “Is this the part when you take me on the table, Shining?”
Double gripped the edge of the table, cracking the wood.
“Don’t break the tables. They’re rentals,” Joe interjected. Then, with a smirk, he said, “I would have expected better from you Shining Armour considering your station.”
Double flipped the table.
“Hey,” Featherbangs said in a nonchalant voice while flipping his mane with a toss of his head.
“Hey,” Zephyr replied, leaning casually on the table.
Leaning back, Featherbangs looked away, flipped his head back with his mane flopping about wildly, and shot Zephyr a charming tooth-filled grin. “Hey.”
Clapping his hooves together, Zephyr shimmied his shoulders and then shot Featherbangs double wing guns with a click of his tongue. “Hey.”
Also clapping his hooves together, Featherbangs rode his chair cowboy style in a circle, slammed his hooves down on the table, shimmied up and down, dove down toward the desk like a snake then gave Zephyr a roguish grin. “Hey.”
Zephyr started to shimmy back and forth before he felt a firm hoof clamp down on his shoulder. Both stallions looked to see Joe staring back at them, one eye twitching uncontrollably and a strained grin on his face.
“Absolutely no more,” Joe hissed. He put a hoof to his mouth. “NEXT!”
Zephyr stared at the stallion opposite him with a quizzical expression. They were a black-furred stallion dressed in a Santa hat with matching beard and suit. Their eyes glowed green and a long red horn punctured through the fabric of the hat.
Everypony prior to Zephyr had immediately placed the tyrant of the Crystal Empire and had been as polite as possible to not be blasted into nothing. Most were just waiting quietly and hoping he would leave quietly with everyone intact.
“So, Santa baby,” Zephyr coyly said, eyes half-lidded, hooves spread on the table. “You wanna give me a hard lump of coal for being a naughty colt, or give me a sweet gift-wrapped present for how good I’ve been.”
Sombra, said tyrant of the Crystal Empire, had quickly deduced that the stallion (Bernard by his nametag) thought this was some sexy roleplay. A quick calculation brought the stallion’s attractiveness to a -2 and, between that and the fact there had been no takers thus far, brought Sombra to the decision that amassing an army of gay stallions using his good looks was not worth dealing with Zephyr for more than a moment.
“I’m out,” Sombra declared.
He dropped his hat on the table, stood up from his chair, and made a quick retreat to the exit, blasting one of the windows on his way out with an arcane blast.
“So, later then?!” Zephyr called after him.
“Did you just get King Sombra to leave by being completely insufferable?” Joe said, incredulous.
“THAT WAS KING SOMBRA?!” Zephyr exclaimed. He looked after Sombra’s retreating figure then tilted his head to one side in thought. After a moment, he nodded. “Yeah, I’d still tap that.”
Joe facehoofed.
“So I was zooming through the clouds during practice with Soarin who totally sideswiped me while trying to take the spotlight away from me and I was all like ‘dang, you ain’t hot enough to get away with that’, but I didn’t want to say that aloud in case he like fired me or something for telling the truth, but after we landed he must have known I wasn’t happy with him because he made a joke at my expense to the rest of the team about taking it in the showers later, and I was just like ‘not for a solid three’ and Spitfire said I got him good, but all I could think about was whether maybe he was flirting and I missed my chance at hooking up with a legendary Wonderbolt and— what are you looking at, Harrier?”
Zephyr stared at Sky Stinger’s mane with an intense focus bordering on creepy. He took a deep breath and then slammed his hooves onto the table, using the leverage to lift himself up. Staring down at the nervous Wonderbolt, Zephyr spoke.
“You have to let me cut off that horrible cow lick.”
“IT'S A LIGHTNING BOLT!” Sky shot back.
“IT'S AN INSULT TO MANE STYLE CULTURE!” Zephyr shouted back.
Three bouncers were required to break the two of them apart with a fourth disarming Zephyr of his scissors.
Joe laughed through the whole thing.
“Hello. I require a stallion capable of causing massive amounts of destruction by mere presence alone,” Stygian explained.
“You like it rough then?” Zephyr asked.
“It is a preference.” Stygian squinted at Zephyr’s nametag. “Curry. You are impressive.”
“My wild charm?” Zephyr batted his eyelashes.
“It is quite spectacular.” Stygian nodded in agreement. “You’ve driven many a stallion mad this night alone.”
“Swooning, of course.” Zephyr placed a wing against his chest, puffing up his fur at the boast.
“They did indeed take quite the swings at you,” Stygian noted. “If you are interested, I would like to make contact with you later on so that we may tag team Starswirl together.”
“Ooh! A threesome then?” Zephyr noted with a sparkle in his eye.
“Yes, an engagement for the ages.” Stygian raised a hoof up, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “We shall both show him what it means to claim my books are subpar. We’ll beat him into submission then admit his defeat to us.”
“You’re into some really intense stuff,” Zephyr commented. “Love it.”
Stygian nodded, a content smile on his face. He felt satisfied at having found a stallion that really understood him.
“What was any of that?!” Joe exclaimed.
Inevitably, after many rotations, Joe ended up facing Zephyr as the last pairing of the event. The others made idle chatter as they had either met their matches or become worn out over the long night. Those last desperate chumps made begging pleas to their deskmates, most striking out.
Zephyr grinned at Joe as Joe regarded him with a raised eyebrow.
“Hey, there,” Zephyr greeted. “How’s your night going, stranger?”
“We’ve been next to each other the entire evening,” Joe replied.
“Then I’m sure you’ve already been taken in by my stunning charm,” Zephyr claimed with a wink.
“Well, I’m admittedly beside myself in complete shock with how many participants we lost solely due to you,” Joe grumbled.
“I am a lot to handle.” (Joe snorted). “So?”
“So, what?” Joe asked.
“You know, the usual speed date stuff,” Zephyr elaborated. “What’s your name, hot stuff?”
“We’ve already met before this, right at the start of the event.”
“But you haven’t told me your name and that’s just common courtesy,” Zephyr said with a wide cheesy grin.
Rolling his eyes, Joe replied, “Pony Joe, but I prefer just Joe.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Zephyr Breeze.”
“Your name is Zephyr Breeze?”
“Yeah, it says so on my nametag,” Zephyr pointed to the aforementioned object with his wing.
“That’s what that says?!” Joe exclaimed.
“Of course! What else could it read as?” Zephyr tilted his head to one side in confusion.
Joe snorted, which quickly turned into a giggle followed by outright laughter. He slammed his hoof on the table as he did so, nearly cracking the wood.
“I have this kind of effect on ponies.” Zephyr leaned back, brushing his chest with a hoof on it as he bragged. “It’s a talent.”
“It sure is,” Joe agreed, wiping a happy tear from his eye. “You’re a disaster.”
“But the most interesting guy you’ll ever meet.” Zephyr shot a wing gun and clicked his tongue.
“That I can agree with,” Joe smirked. “I noticed earlier that the blizzard calmed down. There’s a diner down the road that’s open late and has the best milkshakes. You wanna come with me?”
“Only if they have lime flavour.”
“Maybe.”
“Then sure, it never hurts to try.”
Joe grinned. He used his hooves to lift himself up from his seat. “Ready to go now?”
“Definitely,” Zephyr replied as he followed suit.
As they trotted out of the building, Zephyr sipped on a cup of subpar eggnog. Joe was nearby, unsure of how close he should be on their impromptu… date? Hang out? Whatever this was.
“Hey, watch this!” Zephyr called out.
In morbid fascination, Joe watched as Zephyr pranced on top of a snowbank, with his wings out, the cold night wind blasting snow at him in the most unflattering way possible.
“Flying without using my wings,” Zephyr said with a snicker. “Coolest guy—”
He was never able to finish the sentence as he tripped on his hooves and landed rump up in the snow.
Chuckling, Joe pulled out the shivering pegasus and pulled Zephyr close to his side for warmth. Zephyr seemed to enjoy the contact as he shot Joe a look of triumph. If he hadn’t known that Zephyr was an utter dunce, he would have thought Zephyr had done the whole thing on purpose to get to snuggle up to him.
Though, that plan was so convoluted it might have been conceived by the strangest pegasus he had ever met.
“What a Melvin,” Joe commented, shaking his head.