Mutual Attractions

Chapter 2

The next morning, Braeburn was woken by the rooster’s incessant crowing. Groaning, sore from the previous two days of travelling, he forced himself out of bed. Normally, he had no problem with getting up early. But today, he wanted nothing more than to stay right there in its warm embrace.

After eating a quick bowl of oats, he joined Applejack and Big Macintosh in the orchards. It was a nice day; the sun was shining brightly down from an azure sky, and there were only a few clouds in sight. He took a deep breath, relishing the cool morning air, even if he missed the desert mornings of Appleoosa. The worked hard for a good while. They fell into a rhythm, shared between the three applebucking ponies.

Since applebucking required very little intelligent concentration, he had plenty of time to think further on the dilemma of the date. As he thought on it, he developed a sort of back-and-forth with himself.

Why don’t I get along with any of these mares? I mean, I try to be nice! But somehow, it always ends in disaster, and I probably hurt their feelings.

Well, maybe I’m not trying hard enough? There’s got to be some way I can improve.

That can’t be it, though. I’ve done things plenty of other stallions wouldn’t do. Like that one time-

Yeah, but still-

And then, there’s the fact that I’m a bit toocomfortable around mares. I mean, when it’s a group or something, all the other stallions are tongue-tied, but I just waltz on through.

It could just be that I’m a bit more social than most ponies in Appleoosa. I do like meeting new ponies.

Yeah, but I doget tongue-tied around other stallions. Like when Red Delicious came to visit.

Well, it could all just be a male rivalry thing.

That’s true. But it could also mean…

NO. I just need to get to know these mares better before I quit, that’s all. I’m not like that.

If you won’t listen to yourself, what am I supposed to do...

Lining himself up with his umpteenth apple tree, he bucked it as hard as possible. He heard the immensely satisfactory sound of the apples falling from the tree into the buckets he’d placed around the base of the tree. He turned, looking up and checking to make sure he’d gotten all of them. Having confirmed this, he put one of them on his back, and started carrying it to the wagon.

“How you doin’ cous’?” asked Applejack, meeting him with a bucket of her own.

“Ah’m fine.” he said, putting his on the wagon, and sliding it up against the other buckets full of shiny red apples.

“That’s good.” She followed him back to the tree he’d just bucked, where she also picked up a bucket. Together, they loaded the rest of them into the wagon.

“Big Mac!” called Applejack, looking around for her brother. She didn’t find him, so she turned to Braeburn. “You think we can move this if we work together?”

Braeburn sized up the wagon. It was fully loaded with apples, and it was sure to be heavy. “We can certainly try.”

Together, the two of them managed to get the wagon back to the barn. It was slow going, as even together they were barely strong enough to move it. When they got it there, they began unloading the fruit. Storing it in the barn, they returned to the orchard. After several more hours of following the same pattern- bucking, loading, moving the wagon, and unloading- they called it a day. As it was a bit early in the season, not all of the apples had finished ripening, so there wasn’t quite as much to do yet.

“You should go get ready.” suggested Applejack, wiping the sweat off of her brow and admiring the day’s work.

“What for?” asked Braeburn. Not that I don’t know.

“Yer date with Rainbow Dash.”

“Oh. Alright.” Told you so.

Braeburn showered, and did his best to make himself presentable. He didn’t expect the night to go well, but he should at least try, right? After running a comb through his long mane, he put his hat back on, and went to find Applejack. He found her on the porch, talking to a cyan pegasus mare, whose mane was an array of vibrant rainbow colors. Spotting him, she threw him a cocky smile.

“Hey there, Brae.” she said, strutting over to him. “Ready for our evening out?”

“Sure thing.” he said. “What did you have in mind?”

“I got us tickets to a Wonderbolts Show!” she said, holding up two paper rectangles. “I bet you’ve never been to one before.”

“Can’t say that ah have.”

“It’ll be fun. And don’t worry, the seats are on the ground.”

“Okay.”

“Come on!” She started pulling him towards wherever her destination was, thudding down the porch stairs. He’d had mares dragging him around before, and he sighed mentally. Again?

“You two have fun!” Applejack called after them. “Try not to be back too late, ya hear?”

“Will do, A.J.!”

“Ah can walk!” he said, dislodging himself.

“Sorry.” she said, her cheeks blushing red. “Let’s hurry, so we can get good seats!”

She led him through town, pestering him with questions about himself. He patiently answered them, having heard them all before. They soon reached a large gorge, which had been lined with seats like the ones you find at a stadium. They gave their tickets to the large pony who was waiting at the gate, who let them through. She led him to the front row of seats, which still had a few empty spots left. Being the good gentlecolt he was, he let her through first. He sat next to her, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. When will it end?

She started rambling on about all the Wonderbolts, and he politely attempted to listen, if not understand. For the next few minutes, they waited as the remaining seats filled up. He’d never had a problem with crowds, so the ever-growing noise didn’t bother him. He looked around the makeshift stadium, watching the ponies filing in. As the sun approached the horizon, a sudden hush fell over the crowd. Braeburn looked around for the reason, and three pegasi, smoke trails accompanying, zoomed by overhead at tremendous speeds. He watched as they looped up and over, and the show began.

______________________________________________________________________________

When the show was over, Soarin landed just outside the exit from the stands. He took a deep breath, trying to collect himself and prepare for the coming flood of fan-ponies. He’d been a bit off during the whole performance, since he’d had a hard time sleeping the previous night. Gracefully, Spitfire landed next to him.

“You alright?” she asked. “You’ve been a bit off all day.”

Took the words right out of my mind. “I’m fine.” he lied. “Just a bit tired.”

“Well, there’s only a few more shows left in the season.”

“Yeah.” In front of them, the crowds were finally released from the stands. “Here they come.”

The next half hour was full of autographs, pictures, and short conversations. Normally, Soarin would’ve enjoyed this, but today it was dull, and felt drawn out. Ponies asking the same questions over and over again, picture after picture after picture after-

“Soarin!”

“Huh?” he said, looking up from the ten-millionth picture he’d signed that night.

“It’s me!” said a cyan mare, her rainbow mane distinctly visible through the crowd. “Rainbow Dash!”

He brightened up slightly. “Hey! How are you?”

“I’m great.” she said, beaming as she fought past the last pony in her way. “That last trick was really something!”

“Thanks.” he said. “I-”

His attention was caught as a yellow stallion emerged from the crowd. He had a long golden mane, and green eyes like Soarin’s. He wore a brown cowpony hat and vest, and his cutie mark was a simple red apple.

“Who’s that?” Soarin asked, pointing out the stallion.

“Who?” Rainbow Dash turned around, following the direction of Soarin’s hoof. “Oh! Braeburn!”

“Somepony call me?” said the stallion, walking over to the two pegasi.

“Braeburn, this is Soarin!” said Rainbow Dash.

“Nice to meet ya.” said Braeburn. The two stallion shook hooves. “So yer the Soarin Rainbow’s been goin’ on and on about.”

“Probably.” said Soarin, who couldn’t seem to look away from Braeburn. “Can’t think of any other stallions with the name she’d go all fan-mare on.”

Braeburn laughed, the sound managing to cut through some of the depressed cloud that was surrounding Soarin’s mind. “Ain’t that the truth?”

“Hey, Soarin?” said Rainbow Dash. “Where’s Spitfire?”

“Over there.” he said, pointing towards where his teammate was in conversation with several other ponies. Unlike him, Spitfire seemed to be enjoying herself, as usual.

“Thanks.” Rainbow Dash ran over, and the two struck up a friendly conversation.

“So, Braeburn.” Soarin said, returning his attention to the stallion that intrigued him so. “Where do you live?”

“Ah’m from Appleoosa.” said Braeburn proudly. “Ah was one of the original settlers!”

“Really?”

“Sure am! We had a bit of a spat with the buffalo over our apple orchard, but everything’s fine now.”

“What happened?”

Braeburn raised an eyebrow. “You sure seem awfully interested in me for a Wonderbolt.”

“You seem like a nice guy. If you got Rainbow Dash’s attention, she must’ve liked you.”

“You two know each other well?”

Soarin nodded. “She helped me get my place on the Cloudsdale’s team for the Equestria Games back.”

“What happened?”

Soarin grinned. “You seem awfully interested in me for an Earth Pony from a frontier town.”

“Fair enough.” After a moment of awkward silence, an idea came to Soarin.

“Say, Braeburn?”

“Yes?”

“Would you like to hang out tomorrow? Our next show isn’t for a few days.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Braeburn glanced around. “This isn’t exactly the best place ta have an extended conversation, now is it?”

“Not really.”

“So, where should we meet? Do you know where Sweet Apple Acres is?”

Soarin thought for a moment. “The big red farmhouse?”

“Surrounded by apple trees.”

Soarin nodded. “Yeah, I saw it earlier when we flew in.”

“Ah’m stayin’ there with mah cousins.”

“Cool. When should I come?”

“We’ll be applebuckin’ most of the day,” said Braeburn, “so it’ll have ta be later, in the evening.”

“Does seven sound alright?”

“That should be fine.” Braeburn glanced over towards where Rainbow Dash was. “Er… Soarin?”

“Yes?”

“How do you… get rid of a mare?”

Soarin glanced over at Rainbow Dash. “You don’t like her?”

“She’s a nice mare, but I don’t really want to date her.” He sighed. “Applejack set it up for me.”

“Who?”

“Mah cousin. Mah family’s always settin’ me up on dates. I’ve never even had the chance to do the askin’, what with all of ‘em choosin’ themselves as mah personal matchmaker.”

“That bad, huh?” Soarin looked back at Rainbow Dash, who was grinning happily. “Well, I wouldn’t worry about Rainbow getting too upset. From what I’ve seen, she’s not really all that big on dating, anyway.”

“Thanks.” Braeburn started towards Rainbow Dash. “See ya tomorrow evenin’.”

Soarin watched him go, sighing to himself. Then he shook his head. What am I doing? I can’t crush on a… a stallion!

He looked down at his hooves. Can I? He seems really nice.

He growled at himself, stopping the train of thought in its metaphorical tracks. I like mares! I just went through an intense show, after barely getting any sleep. I just need to go to bed.

______________________________________________________________________________

Braeburn walked Rainbow Dash back to her house, which was on the edge of town. And about fifty feet up.

“Rainbow Dash?” he said nervously. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure.” she said. “What is it?”

“Well… you’re a nice mare…” he said, avoiding her eyes. “But… I don’t think this is gonna really work.”

“Why?” she asked, looking a bit hurt. “Did I do something?”

“No, no. I just… don’t really think of you like that. Yer just… a friend.” He braced himself, waiting for her to do her worst.

“Okay.”

“What?” He looked up, surprised. Soarin had been right.

“It’s okay.” she said happily. “I guess I kind’ve got carried away. I’m not really that into dating anyway.”

“So… we’re good?”

“Yes.” She smiled cockily. “Besides, dating a stallion would tie me down!”

“Well, good night to ya.”

“Good night.”

Without further ado, she flew up to her house. Braeburn waited a moment, then he began the long journey back to Sweet Apple Acres. He thought about what he had planned for the next day. Soarin had said seven. He felt confident he’d be free by then, considering how long they’d been working in the orchards today.

When he’d reached the farm, he took a moment to steel himself. When he felt ready, he entered.

“How’d it go?” asked Applejack, who appeared with unnaturally speed and stealth. “You two have a good time?”

“It went alright.” he said, avoiding her eyes.

“Brae… did you…?”

“Yes.” he said flatly. “Ah did. And ah’ll thank you ta let me decide who ah date from now on.”

He started for his room, exhausted by the days events.

“Did she get upset?” asked Applejack, following him.

“No. She was fine.”

“Well, at least there’s that much.”

“Now, if you don’t mind, ah’m going ta bed.”

“Good night Braeburn.”

“‘Night Applejack.”

He went to his room, and crashed on his bed. He sighed, realizing how uncomfortable it would be to sleep in his vest and hat. He tossed his hat onto the bedside table, and wriggled out of his vest, which he just shoved over the cliff that was the side of the bed. Pulling the covers over him, he forced his body to relax.

He took a moment to think back on the day. Soarin. He seemed like an interesting pony. And Braeburn had found himself… liking him? He covered his face with his hoofs, groaning.

I can’t like stallions.

But do you?

N-No. I c-can’t.

But do you?

I don’t know.

He sighed loudly.

Why does it have to be so difficult?

______________________________________________________________________________

When the crowds finally cleared away, it was nearly midnight. They returned to their hotel, where Soarin was more than happy to remove his flight suit and collapse onto his bed. His blissful attempt at relaxation was foiled when Spitfire followed him into the room.

“Yes?” he asked, burying his face into the soft pillow.

“Soarin, Wave and I are going to go grab a bite to eat.” she said. “You want to come?”

“Fine.” His voice was muffled by the pillow. He forced himself upright. “I’m coming.”

He followed her out, where was his teammate Wave Chill waiting. About Soarin’s height, he had a blue coat and a mane that was a similar hue to Soarin’s, if a bit less messy. In keeping with the trend, he had dark blue eyes.

“Where are we going?” he asked, as they exited the hotel.

“I heard about this place earlier.” said Wave, who looked as glad to be free of his flight suit as Soarin felt. “Sugarcube Corner.”

“Sounds like it’s worth checking out.” said Soarin. “Spit?”

“Sure.” she said. “Why not?”

They found it near a large fountain. When they walked inside, the first thing Soarin noticed was the smell. It smelled like every kind of delicious that a bakery should. They walked over to the counter, where they were greeted by a shorter mare, whose mane was done in a creative swirling pattern.

“What can I get for you, dears?” she asked, in a motherly tone. She seemed unfazed by the presence of three Wonderbolts.

“What do you have?” asked Wave, leaning down and looking into the glass case.

“Oh, all sorts of things.”

“Hmm…” said Spitfire “I’d like to try that.” She pointed out a tray, which held several smaller loaves of a reddish bread.

Wave pointed out a stack of fresh pretzels. “Those look good. I think I’ll have one of those.”

“Can I have a slice of pie?” asked Soarin, pointing one out. Apple, of course.

“Sure thing, dears.” said the mare.

She quickly gathered up their orders, and put them on top of the counter. After they’d paid her, they took a seat at one of the booths. Soarin dug in immediately. Nothing got between him and pie. Not that it was an obsession, like Spitfire made it out to be. He just enjoyed the taste. Kind of like how Spitfire couldn’t resist a Root beer Float. Why that, he had no idea. Pie was definitely better, with its crumbly crust and deliciously sweet and tart fillings. Besides, it went just as well with ice cream as Root beer.

“That a good one?” asked Wave, looking up from his pretzel. Soarin was sort of an authority, since he always sampled apple pies, so the others always asked what he thought.

“It’s good.” he said. “Not as good as the one from the gala, though.” He sighed. “I never did get that mare’s name.”

“Oh well.” said Spitfire, chuckling. “You eat pie often enough, you’ll probably find her again.”

“That’s not what I meant.” he said, seeing how she’d taken it. “I just wish I could get another one of those…” He licked his lips. “Delicious pies.”

And besides, I don’t even like mares. I like-

Shut up, me.

Rule one of insanity, talking to yourself.

Ha! I’m not talking, I’m thinking.

You got me there. Or rather, you got you there. Or is it-

Zip it.

Okay.

It still bothered him, though. Did he like mares? Or… did he like stallions?

When they returned to the hotel, he made a beeline for his bed. This time, no one stopped him, and he took refuge under the covers. He discovered, however, that he again lacked that key ability one required to properly use a bed. Sleep. He tossed and turned for hours.

Should I feel this way? What would happen if I- No! Not happening.

He tried counting sheep, which didn’t work. He tried impromptu meditation. Nothing.

And that stallion I met earlier, Braeburn. Could he ever like me? Do… do I like him?

Shut up!

Needless to say, it was a long, long night.