Scotch on the Rocks

Solaris was in the process of lowering the sun, and the town houses around us were tinged with an orange hue as their shadows grew longer and longer. Butterscotch was lost in his own world as he walked beside me, busy taking in the scents of flowers, leaves, and pine needles which had baked in the warm sun all day. Brushing a few strands of pink mane from his face, he turned his teal eyes up to the cloudless sky, a content smile on his face. He watched and listened happily as a flock of chirping birds passed overhead.

“Do you really wanna do this?” I asked.

He turned his head back down to face me, a moment of silence while he processed the words. “Of course I do, Blitzy,” he said sweetly.

‘Blitzy’…I hated the nickname. It made me sound cute. I’d prefer just Blitz or Blitzter, or something cooler like that. I was used to it from Butterscotch though, he’d been calling me that since we were foals. I sometimes thought he did it to tease me, but he just acted so sincere about it that I wasn’t sure. I guess you could just call it Butterscotch being Butterscotch.

“It looks like you’d way rather be out here enjoying the sunset or something like that,” I said with a shrug.

“I really do enjoy Solaris’ sunsets, but I like spending time with you more, and it hasn’t been just the two of us together for a very long time.” He smiled.

“Yeah, when’s the last time we went to the bar anyways?” I asked with a laugh, getting a little more excited about the night ahead than I should have. Spending a night out with Scotch sounds pretty dull, right? He barely talks, and when he does, it’s always about his animals, or some other animal doing something not interesting; but when you got him drinking, it was a completely different story. He was actually fun…mostly.
“It’s been a while,” he said with a sigh. “We always have fun there.”

He was right, we did. We used to go to this place a couple times a week or more back before we started really hanging out with the other guys. It was sort of our meet-up place, and back then…I hate to admit it, but he was my only friend. So hanging with him was all I ever did.

As a group of ponies past by us, probably on their way back from dinner, I felt Butterscotch’s body push up against me. I sighed angrily. “Butterscotch, you know those ponies. Why are you always so scared of everything?”

“I don’t know them,” he stated defensively, raising his voice slightly. At least he’d speak up to me sometimes.

“You know what I mean. You see them in town all the time.”

Some days were better than others for him, when it seemed like he was finally getting over the whole awkward shyness thing. Then there were days like these, where it was like he was getting worse. The drinks would help with that.

He was still resting against me. I extended my wing, easily pushing his meek body away. I sighed with relief as I looked ahead and realized how close we were to the bar. At least in there he wouldn’t be so weird, or so I thought.

I opened the door and let it fall back against my flank to hold it open for Butterscotch. He mumbled a thanks and smiled at me as he slowly stepped inside. I followed close behind. The bar matched the rest of Ponyville’s theme, simple, rustic and just like I remembered. There were already quite a few ponies in the place, probably because it was one of the only bar, bars in Ponyville. Luckily, there was almost nopony sitting up at the bar, well except that Berry guy in the corner. He knew how to drink alright. If your coat and mane look like they’ve been perma-stained with wine then yeah, you’ve got a problem.

We always sat at the bar. Butterscotch used to be freaked out because he felt like it was the center of attention in the room, but he eventually got used to it after he realized nopony cared.

“Nice to see ya,” the old bartender mumbled. “Thought you weren’t comin’ back after you got busy with the whole Elements of Harmony stuff, and then the prince stuff with your friend.”

I laughed as a settled down onto a soft, nicely worn cushion of one of the stools. “Just thought we’d stop in so you wouldn’t forget us.”

“Oh, I certainly haven’t. You two were in here almost every night,” he said with a smirk, scratching a hoof against the scruffy fur on his graying chin. “Anyways, what’ll it be?”

“Just a cider for me,” I said automatically, the statement pretty much ingrained in my head.

“And a scotch on the rocks for me,” Butterscotch whispered, adjusting himself on his seat. The bartender gave a nod and turned around to grab the drinks. Scotch seems like a pretty hard liquor for a pony like Butterscotch, right? Something that he’d never drink. Well, the only reason he ordered it was because it was in his name. The rocks part was from me. It’s just cooler, both figuratively and literally. So I told him to start adding ice. He did, and it stuck.

“So…Scotch,” I chuckled, watching as he took a sip of the harsh, amber liquid which was set in front of him. “What’s up, been doing anything cool lately?”

He grimaced slightly as he forced the sip down. I assumed it’d been a while since he drank. “Oh, you know me, I never do anything ‘cool,’” he mumbled and gave a shrug. “Just taking care of the critters. I’ve been really busy lately. So many ponies bringing in their pets, and so many wild animals needing something or another.”

And there he was, talking about animals, like always. It was sort of sad, he enjoyed caring for them; but the main reason he talked about it was because that was literally all he had to talk about. He rarely got out, even with the guys.

“Oh come on, that’s pretty cool. What would those ponies and animals do without you?” I said comfortingly before taking a gulp of my ice cold cider. It was perfect, sweet but not too sweet, good smooth flavor, and an awesome, foamy head to top it all off.

I could feel my eyes bulge out of my skull as he suddenly knocked back the entire glass, the ice clattering against his muzzle before he gently set the emptied glass down in front of him. I forgot how much he drank…that is, when he did drink. “I never do anything cool,” he repeated as he politely waved his hoof for another glass. His voice lowered to a shy whisper. “Um…could I please have another?” The bartender gave him a wink as he grabbed another glass.

“Come on, you do plenty of cool stuff. How many times have we saved Equestria now?” I asked with a sigh. That was the problem with being so close to Butterscotch. Since we’d been friends for, well, pretty much forever; that meant he was comfortable with telling me everything. All the pint up emotion that he hid from everypony else pushed itself out when he was around me. I wasn’t the best support in Equestria, but he trusted me to help, and after such a long time, I was getting pretty good at comforting him.

“Yes, but that’s only because I was with you ponies. By myself, I’m just…well, nothing, a lonely pony who’s always at home.”

That was the truth, but being a homepony wasn’t all that bad. It’d be nice to lay around all day, except he was always busy…that and the really small amount of any social interaction he got, besides the stuff with animals; if you could even consider that talking. He preferred it though. He didn’t like being around big crowds of ponies or meeting new ones. It was like he complained, but in reality would never want to give up what he complained about. I was stumped and had no clue what to say.

“So how’s the mare front coming along?” I regretted the question the moment it came out of my mouth, and took another large gulp of my cider.

“I’ve just given up looking,” he said with an extremely drawn out sigh. “It’s hard enough to find somepony with the same interests as me, and even harder to get to know them. Then there’s a big chance they won’t even like me anyways.”

I turned and gazed around the room, to the dimly lit booths in the corner and back to the tables near the window. All colts, except a few fillies who were noticeably taken by the hoof wrapped around their shoulders. That was the problem with Ponyville…and all of Equestria if you ask me. It seemed like there was a severe lack of mares, which was pretty weird considering the fact that most of the architecture had a feminine touch. I turned back to the bar and my eyes traveled across the heart shapes engraved in the trimming around it. It’s like they were here long ago, but were the hay did they go?

Finding a filly was even a problem for me; yeah that’s right, me of all ponies. I hadn’t had a relationship, or even just a good night since back in Cloudsdale when I was a teenager. So if I was in a bad position filly-wise, that meant Scotch was in a really bad position. I don’t really think that bothered him too much though. He liked colts too. He never admitted to it or anything, but I saw my fair share of moments pointing to it.

“I’ll keep an eye out for ya,” I said, giving him a soft pat on the back. He then mumbled some gibberish that I couldn’t even begin to understand. “Huh?”

He rolled his eyes and knocked back the rest of his drink. “You’ve been saying that for years!” he attempted to yell, but it came out as more of a squeak than anything.

“Hey, I’m just as bad off as you right now.”

“Yeah, but at least you’ve had relationships in the past…Me? I’ve had nothing,” he growled and then turned to the bartender, clearing his throat. “Another please.” His voice had returned to its usual sweet and quiet tone. He turned back to me with a frown. “I’ll have you know, mister, that I have went my entire life without any of it…It’s horrible,” he whimpered, nearly breaking into tears as his eyes swelled with water.

“Bro, chill out,” I grumbled, wanting to smack a hoof against the back of his head. I didn’t, of course. That’d just make things even worse. “You know what? Forget about it. Let’s talk about something completely different, liiike um…” My eyes traveled down to the new glass of scotch in his hoof. “How’s the scotch?”

“Shit, like always,” he said with a pout. I couldn’t help be laugh. Butterscotch cursing was pretty rare, and when he did, he said it as sweetly as possible which made it sound even weirder. He giggled slightly. The drinks must have been working their magic on him. He was finally getting fun.

“So why the hay do you drink it?” I asked with a laugh.

“Because, it makes me forget and have fun…and I get braver.”

“Yeah, they call it liquid courage or something like that.” I shrugged, taking another sip of my cider. “You could always get weaker drink…I dunno an Appletini or something?”

“Pshh, please,” he said, waving his hoof dismissively. “I already get called a coltcuddler enough. If I started drinking Appletini’s everypony would think I’m a total fag.”

I smirked and raised an eyebrow. “But aren’t you, sorta?”

“Just because I’m interested in some colts, doesn’t mean I’m gay. I’m just a bit curious…and willing to experiment, especially with the horrible luck I have with the other side.”

Like I said, I knew he was a coltcuddler from the start. This just proved my theory. I was pretty surprised that he admitted to it though. Alcohol was the key to his secrets. Without it, he was always quiet about personal stuff, especially anything that big.

“Hah, knew it, you’re a fag,” I teased, rubbing a hoof against his head.

“Mhm, that’s right Blitzy, I really wouldn’t mind a nice, strong stallion with a big cock rutting me out.”

“Uh…” I was pretty stunned by the comeback to be honest. My cheeks were warm, really warm, that and my face. I really hoped my face wasn’t completely red. I was expecting something much more defensive and a lot less…awkward? I took a quick swig of my cider, already getting a bit warm, tasted just as good though. With a few quick glances, I was pretty sure the bartender had heard our entire conversation. He was staring right at us.

“And what about you? The mane color says it all,” Butterscotch said with a sly wink.

“Hey!” I groaned, rubbing a hoof through my awesome rainbow mane. “Just because my mane’s rainbow colored, doesn’t mean I’m a coltcuddler…besides, rainbow’s a cool color.” I may have sounded like a hated the teasing, but it was actually pretty fun, and something that Butterscotch rarely did. It was nice to see him letting his guard down and feeling comfortable for once.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of colts interested in you, if you wanted to give it a try,” he said with a smile. “But for me…not really.” He shrugged and sipped at his scotch.

“I’ll just keep an eye out for you on that team too. How does that sound?” I asked nicely. “But let’s start talking about something else…looks like we have an eavesdropper,” I then whispered, slightly nodding my head in the bartender’s direction.

“Thanks, Blitzy. You can be so sweet sometimes,” he said, a wide smile on his face.

I gave a fake gag at the comment and scowled. “Me, sweet? Whatever…cool guys aren’t sweet.”

“I’m not sure how it goes with mares, but I like guys with a tough outer shell and a real sweet and sensitive inside.”

I pondered the statement for a few seconds and shrugged half-heartedly. “I dunno about that, but I guess it’s worth a try. Nothing I’m doing now’s working anyways.”

“You don’t need to try, you already are,” he said, turning his eyes up at me for a moment.

“Uh…huh…alright,” I mumbled. “Anyways, like I said…this subject’s getting pretty dull, let’s talk about something else.”