One Last Shot

The green-haired colt eyed the invitation. What had caught his attention was the fancy hoofwriting, obviously the work of a skilled calligraphist, followed by the shiny golden border. But what impressed Coconut Rum the most was the weight of the invitation, clearly made of a much fancier paper stock than the fliers that he used for his promotions at The Blind Griffin.

        “I don’t know about this,” the half-zebra called out to the older pony in another room. Coconut had worried about this long before his current stay with Caesar. It was, in fact, the only reason he had hesitated on this visit to Manehattan. As much as he loved Caesar’s company, their backgrounds could not be more different, and spending an evening at a formal attended by the sort of ponies who made up the city pony’s inner circle? That was biting off a bit more than he was sure he could chew.

        “It will be fine, Coconut! It’s just a simple party!” insisted Caesar, going through the contents of his desk. He knew he had it somewhere...

        “Simple parties don’t have golden invitations!”

        “It’s just the border, and its only gold leaf!”

        Coconut sighed, and asked in an exasperated voice, “...which is made of?”

        There was a momentary silence before Caesar answered. “Okay, so it’s made of gold. But you’ll do great.”

        “What exactly am I supposed to wear to this, anyway?” Coconut flung the invitation behind himself in a nervous gesture. “The most formal thing I’ve ever worn was my uniform for work, and I don’t need your friends thinking I’m a waiter.”

        Caesar chuckled at the thought of his peers asking his coltfriend to refill their punch glasses, all the while rummaging through the stacks of papers that had piled up in the past weeks. Finally, he caught a glimpse of some purple among the chaos of white and yellow, and fished it out with his hoof. “It’s already taken care of, babe.”

        He came out of his study with the purple ticket clenched between his teeth, and offered it to Coconut. The younger pony looked at the ticket, which featured a stylized portrait of a white-coiffed stallion in large sunglasses. “What’s this about?”

        “I called in a favor with a designer I know. He’s agreed to find you something to wear to the formal from his own collection.”

        “Is this...” Coconut stammered. “Is this Hoity Toity?”

Caesar nodded.

“You know him?”

Another nod.

“Ooh!” As Caesar began to laugh, Coconut looked up from the ticket. “Hey, to me this is pretty impressive. I’ve read about his stuff. He’s good.”

“Well, I’m glad he meets with your approval.” Caesar’s little comment was rewarded with a light smack on the nose with the ticket.

“Hush, you!” Coconut laughed, leaning up against Caesar’s side. He nuzzled his cheek against the older pony’s neck. The gray fur smelled of juniper, a combination of pine and citrus that now made Coconut’s flesh tingle. “Thank you for this.”

Caesar smiled and sighed, enjoying the feel of Coconut’s hot breath. “I should be thanking you. Everypony at that benefit is going to be jealous of me tonight.” The comment elicited a giggle, which was followed by an unexpected nip at his ear. Caesar felt his face flush as Coconut’s warm tongue traced the contours of his jawline. He swallowed hard. “I dunno if we...” he tried to spit out through increasingly shallow breaths. “We’re going to be-”

The words were lost in the kiss, and for a moment, feeling Coconut’s nose against his own and breathing in that omnipresent tropical taste, Caesar couldn’t remember what he was saying mere seconds before. Eventually, his thoughts returned and he reluctantly broke the kiss. “Coconut, we don’t have time for this. We’re going to be late!” he said nervously, hoping the green-maned pony wouldn’t take his need for punctuality as a rejection.

Instead, Coconut just smiled, his orange eyes half-open and glistening with a soft expression. “I would think a socialite like you would be familiar with the term ‘fashionably late’?” He ran his hoof through his lover’s silver mane and resumed the kiss.

Hoity could wait a little bit.

“Sorry we’re late, Hoity. The traffic out there is terrible,” Caesar lied. “I hope we don’t have any problems getting there tonight.” His words echoed in the vast studio, empty of life except for the lone pony, whose image was recognizable to any Equestrian with a passing knowledge of fashion.

“If there’s one thing I’ve tried painfully to impart upon you, Caesar, it is not when you show up, but how. And once again, I seem to be disappointed.” The silver-coated designer looked with dismay around the studio. “How am I supposed to dress this... squeeze of yours, if he’s nowhere to be found?”

“Coming!” came Coconut’s response as he rushed in through the door. “The carriage driver was giving me a hard time about his tip, but I told him where he could put it.” Upon seeing the well-dressed designer, he walked up and extended his hoof. “I’m Coconut Rum. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Toity.”

The introduction elicited a sly smile from its recipient, who returned the hoofshake. “The pleasure is all mine, Coconut. And you can call me Hoity.” When Coconut beamed back a big smile, Hoity looked past him to Caesar. “When exactly did you develop such great taste?”

Caesar shot him back a sheepish grin. He felt proud that an old stallion like himself could still capture the attention of a colt who met Hoity’s rigorous standards for looks. He subconsciously rubbed at a part of his neck where he was sure Coconut had left a mark from a love bite, thankfully covered up by his fur. “So what’s next, Hoity? Do I need to give you my ideas, or-”

Hoity immediately held up both hooves in a defensive gesture. “No, sir. Your services will not be necessary for this. All I need is to borrow this gorgeous colt for a moment so I can get him fitted in something that will put the rest of that crowd to shame.” He glanced over at Coconut, who was now blushing and looking at Caesar nervously. He looked back to the gray pony. “As for you, my old friend, I have a nice little lounge down the hall. Big red door. Help yourself to a Fillygrino and anything else you find EXCEPT the chocolate-covered barley, which is MINE. Touch it on pain of death.”

As Caesar trotted off towards the lounge, threats of violence still ringing in his ears, Hoity turned to his model. “He’s a great pony, but his idea of what looks good is at least six years behind. I’m not sending you to that formal in a cummerbund.” A quick wave of his hoof signaled for the giggling Coconut to follow him down the hall to one of the fitting rooms.

The first thing the young pony saw was an image of himself, quickly joined by two others as he approached the triptych of mirrors. He wasn’t used to getting such a good look at himself, and he had to admit that he didn’t look half bad. “I always forget how far the stripes go on my back.”

Hoity smirked. “Never forget your stripes. They really work with your shape. I have got to hire more zebras.”

Coconut smiled at the compliment. “So,” he asked tentatively, striking various poses for the mirrors. “Are you interested in my suggestions? Because I was thinking maybe an orange tie would work with my colors.”

“Now that’s actually a reasonable idea, though I was thinking more along the lines of a loose-fitting scarf.” Hoity approached Coconut and began gazing up and down his body with a focused expression, seemingly studying his form.

“That would be even better! I used to wear a bow tie for a job I had here, and that thing came off the second I was out the door. I was just concerned about looking too casual.”

Hoity rubbed his chin with his hoof. “I don’t think you need to worry about that. You’re going to like the way you look. I guarantee it.” Coconut noticed that Hoity’s glasses had slid down his nose, and his eyes were looking upwards, as if lost in thought. His mouth was moving, but he was clearly talking to himself, and aside from quick snatches of numbers or words like “croup” and “withers”, the designer’s thoughts were clearly only meant for him.

Suddenly, a large smile appeared on Hoity’s face, and his violet eyes shone with happiness. “I was thinking about the scarf, but I’ve decided to scrap all of that, and put you in something much bolder.” The designer pony promptly disappeared out of the fitting room, and a nearby door could be heard slamming open.

“Bolder?” Coconut called out, confused and curious.

“MUCH bolder!” yelled Hoity from the next room. “What I had planned would have worked swimmingly for any other pony, but you clearly have something more!”

“Something... more?” The young pony couldn’t help but blush.

“Most certainly! Caesar told me about your mixed lineage, but I’ve seen very few ponies whose patterns complemented themselves so well! And you’re just the right size for an ensemble that requires a wearer with real panache!” There was a short pause, followed by some swearing as the frustrated pony continued his search. Eventually, he struck paydirt. “Aha! There you are!”

Hoity ducked back into the room carrying a black garment bag in his mouth. “You are going to look amazing.” He laid it out in front of Coconut. “Go ahead and open it!”

Grinning from ear to ear in anticipation, Coconut slowly unzipped the bag, only to feel his heart sink as he looked at the contents within. He looked up at the designer with a quizzical look. “You’re joking, right?” he asked, but the gray pony was all business.

“You were made for this outfit. Try it on!”

“No!”

“Look, I know it’s a bit...unconventional.”

“Unconventional, my flank! It’s a dress!”

“It is more than just a dress. It is the sexiest dress I’ve ever made.”

“IT IS STILL A DRESS.” The young pony was starting to get upset. What exactly did Hoity expect from him?

“Look, Coconut.” Hoity wrapped a forehoof around the pony’s withers. “I know this comes as a shock to you. And from your reaction, it’s clear that wearing mares’ clothes is not an experience you’ve partaken in. I respect that. But your body is absolutely perfect for this. You’ll easily be the best looking pony at the formal.”

“But...”

“Just think, Coconut. You walk in the room, and all eyes are on you. Every stallion wants to be with you. Every mare wants to be you.”

Coconut felt his resolve starting to slip. “But...” he was able to squeak out, “I’m not a mare.”

“Just do me one favor before you make up your mind, all right? Let’s see what Caesar has to say first.” The suggestion elicited a smile from Coconut. “If you don’t like his reaction, we’ll get you into something more conventional, n’est-ce pas?”

He hesitated at first, but eventually the young pony nodded his assent. As Hoity disappeared in a blur, Coconut began to nose the slinky garment. “Umm...how do I put this on?”

“You’ll probably need my help with that. Same goes for the jewelry!”

“Jewelry?”

Caesar finished his second Fillygrino and placed the empty next to the first on the cedar coffee table. He considered going back for a third, but wondered if it was worth straining Hoity’s hospitality when he wasn’t so much thirsty as nervous. The calmness he had displayed so far had largely been a façade for Coconut’s sake. He recognized how anxious the young pony was about his first real formal event and wanted him to feel at ease. However, Caesar had plenty to be concerned about himself. For one, this would be the first time he had really stepped out among his own circle with Coconut, the first time anypony would see him with a colt.

And then there was Lyrica. He’d done a very good job distancing himself from his ex-mate, especially since meeting Coconut. There had been a great deal of unpleasantness once he first returned from San Caballo. Luckily her new beau, a curly-maned brown pony named Herald, was not particularly interested in a physical confrontation, especially upon hearing exaggerated descriptions of Caesar’s erratic behavior from Lyrica. But both of them would almost certainly be at the formal, and he both hated and feared the idea of once more being the recipient of that judging stare, now with the word “coltcuddler” being repeated whenever his back was turned.

He opened the refrigerator door to see if there was something stronger than bubbly water. In the back, he could see the box of dark chocolate barley. It was elegantly packaged, except for a big piece of red tape that had NO written in large letters. Maybe just a peek...

“Ahem!” came a noise from behind, causing him to attempt to stand up, banging his head hard on the top of the refrigerator.

Nursing his sore head with a hoof, he turned around to see the two ponies. Coconut was wrapped from head to toe in a white cloak, so that only the brown of his muzzle was visible.

Caesar looked at the shrouded pony with incredulity. “Umm...Hoity? You know I almost always bow to your expertise, but you do know this is a formal banquet, not a cult meeting?”

The designer responded with a well-timed snort. “Save your comments, you fillistine. This is what we in fashion call the dramatic reveal.” He cleared his throat again. “Fillies and gentlecolts, it is my most dubious honor to present to you, an islander making his big social debut in Manehattan, Coconut Rum!” He stepped backwards and made a sweeping gesture with his hooves as Coconut released the cloak, allowing it to flutter to the ground.

The older pony definitely wasn’t sure what he had expected, but it was nothing like what he saw. His jaw dropped.

Coconut was wearing a slinky indigo evening gown that hugged the feminine curves of his body. There was no back to it, allowing a perfect view of the brown stripes that went down to his loin, where the fabric began again. The dress clung to his rump and down his quarters, at which point the fabric became more breezy, and hung loosely down to just over his ankles. On each side, near the beginning of his flank, there was a tiny embroidered daisy. The flowers were also seen lining the collar around Coconut’s neck, and the orange centers perfectly set off the rich citrus of the young pony’s eyes.

Caesar tried desperately to think of something to say, but nothing would come out. Silence dominated the room.

Coconut nervously twitched his ears. They were still a little sore from the piercing, after which Hoity had given him two stones, a rich red in color. He waited for Caesar to speak, but when it became clear the image was a shock, he took the initiative himself. “It wasn’t my idea. Really.”

The pony’s voice shook Caesar out of his trance. “I... I honestly don’t know what to say.”

Coconut lowered his head, suddenly too embarrassed to make eye contact. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even want to. Hoity said that it-”

“You look amazing.”

Coconut looked up. “What?”

“You’re absolutely beautiful.” Caesar walked over to the nervous pony and gave his cheek a soft nuzzle. Coconut returned it with hesitation.

“You mean, you don’t think this looks stupid? You wouldn’t be ashamed to be seen with me?”

Caesar pulled back so that their foreheads were almost touching. He looked deep into Coconut’s eyes. “I could never be ashamed of you.” He leaned in the extra inch and placed a soft kiss on the colt’s lips. As Coconut returned it, both of them felt their anxieties about the evening starting to dissipate. Everything was going to be fine.

After a moment lost in the embrace, they realized that Hoity Toity was still standing next to them, a grin spread from ear to ear. “Don’t stop on my account.”

The two lovers chuckled, and Coconut reached up a hoof to softly stroke Caesar’s muzzle. “Sorry, Hoity. Thanks for all you’ve done for us, but we have places to be tonight.”