Butterscotch was completely hammered at this point. I didn’t count how many he had, but definitely way more than he should have. At least he slowed down, and was only taking a few sips every now and again. He was handling his liquor surprisingly well. These nights would normally end up with him stumbling towards the bathroom, laying a huge pile of vomit on the floor before he even reached it, and apologizing nonstop for the mess he made.

Me, well, I didn’t drink all that much. Big surprise, huh? Don’t get me wrong, I really liked to party, but not on a night like that. I used to back when I was younger…all the time, but I started to realize it was hurting me. It slowed me down; I trained less; I didn’t fly as much, all because of a stupid headache from a night out. Along with that, drinking turned me into an idiot. I made dumb decisions that ended up hurting me even more than just the alcohol, or causing some major complications in my life. I had a few ciders, taking them down slow, and that was it. I was sort of feeling buzzed, probably because I hadn’t drank for a while. I lost my resistance.

Up until this point, the night had gotten pretty awesome. Listening to Scotch’s drunken ramblings about how much he hates our friends, but totally loves them at the same time was always hilarious. Especially the part when he called Elusive a ‘whiny douche’ and Dusk an ‘annoying brat.’ But now things were getting a bit more complicated.

“You know, Blitzy…you’re better than them. You’re always there for me and you’ve…been there for me since…I was a little teeny tiny foal.” He paused every few seconds, gathering and then processing whatever slurred speech he’d spew out next. His eyes were glazed over and he blinked extremely slowly every few seconds. “You’re my best friend, Blitz.” He smiled weakly and rested his head against my shoulder with a sigh.

“Glad to hear it,” I said, giving him a comforting pat on his head and attempting to push him back up into his seat. He didn’t budge, of course.

“I’m going to… let you in on a big… secret of mine. Please don’t tell anypony,” he whispered, turning his eyes up at me. His cheeks were flushed with pink, and it wasn’t just from the alcohol. “I love you, Blitzy…as more than just a friend. I have for a…very…very long time. You’re the… most amazing and sexy colt I’ve ever met. I want more than what we have now…I’m sure you don’t though.” As he planted his lips on my cheek, I couldn’t have been more unsurprised.

Don’t get me wrong, I was shocked that he’d actually wound himself up enough to say it again…but he’d admitted to it in the past, and always found more discreet ways to show his affection. Remember what I said about the signs pointing to him being a coltcuddler? All those signs were also pointed to me. Yeah, that’s right.

***

The Flight School colts’ locker room, I was just a teen. Sounds like the beginning of one of those really weird and cheesy coltcuddler romance flicks, huh? Or maybe one where things get steamy in the shower? Not exactly. Butterscotch, really small, weak, and scrawny at the time; he always was, but even more so then, was sitting on the bench beside me. After successfully undoing the lock on my locker after about the third try (I hated those things, they never worked right,) I opened it up. As I rummaged through its contents, I looked up at the gash above Scotch’s eye, his ratted and messy mane, and the dampness from tears around his red eyes. A pang of pain, followed by anger rushed through my body.

“Damn it! I’m tired of their shit, Scotch! They need to stop bein’ such flankholes and actually do what their supposed to for once instead of do shit like this to you!” I yelled aloud, slamming a hoof into the closed locker beside my own. I’m pretty sure it left a dent, but maybe I’m just over exaggerating. I’ve been told I do sometimes. Finally my hoof touched the small first aid kit I had left there in case I ever had a bad crash. I opened it up and dabbed the tip of my hoof into a small container of ointment.

“Man, I’m sorry,” I said weakly as I looked up at his disheveled and completely traumatized expression. I hated seeing him hurt, he looked like that every single time; and it happened a lot, way too much. Everypony in Flight School made a point of teasing him relentlessly, and even taking it as far as it went that day, physically hurting him. I couldn’t stand it. No matter who they were, colt or filly, good flyer or bad, they teased him anyways. The fillies were the worst, a bunch of cunts if you ask me. I hated their guts.

“There,” I said softly, dabbing a bit of the cream across his gash. I grabbed out a bandage and ripped away the paper with my teeth before setting it in place over his wound. “You alright besides that?”

He nodded his head quietly before bursting forward and wrapping his hooves tightly around my waist, along with burying his muzzle into my chest. I could feel his warm tears trickling across my fur and soaking down to my skin. Nopony in all of Equestria, even the worst of them should have had to go through what he experienced every day in Flight School. I held him close and gave him a few comforting pats on the back, but quickly pushed him away when I realized what I was doing. He couldn’t rely on me. He had to learn how to deal with it himself. He looked at me curiously, tears still streaming down his face.

“I can’t keep doing this, Butterscotch.” I shook my head, pausing a moment. “I’ll always be there for you, but doing what I’m doing is only making it worse. You need to toughen up, and stop being such a weak pussy! If you keep this shit up, they’ll never let up. You’re too easy of a target. If you got out there and started kicking some flank; you and me wouldn’t have to deal with any of this! It’s simple, Scotch. Just stop being a pansy…”

I hated yelling at him, or calling him names like that, but it was the only way for him to realize how weak he really was. If I kept babying him, he’d depend on me for everything, and he’d never get any better. He gasped out a few loud sobs and then whimpered as he sucked some snot, which lingered around his nostrils, back up into his head.

“It’s just who I am, Blitzy. I’ve tried and tried to change, but I can’t. I never will. I know how badly you want me to, but it’s not going to happen,” he said softly and weakly.

I sighed and placed my hoof on his shoulder. “Look, I’m not trying to be mean. I hope you get that. I’m doing this to help. I’m not forcing you into anything either. It’s your deal, not mine. I just somehow got involved. That’s just my advice, is all.”

“Oh, I know; and it makes me really happy to see how much you care for me.” A soft smile appeared on his face as he spoke. “You’ve always been there for me. I don’t know why somepony like you would want to help a weak little colt like me, but you do. Thank you.”

“Whoa…cheesy much?” I asked with a chuckle, patting his shoulder lightly. “You’re welcome, and I do it because I can’t stand to see somepony like you get pushed around. You’re a really good guy, and don’t deserve any of what they put you through.”

“You’re a really good guy too, Blitzy.” As he said this, his cheeks…well, more or less, his entire face lit up with red, and he looked away shyly. I gazed forward curiously, not exactly sure what it was all about. Come on, I was young and naïve. How was I supposed to know?

His eyes darted back and forth across the room around us making sure nopony else was there. It was silent, almost too silent. The benches, along with the floor around them, were empty besides an occasional stray piece of clothing left out by its owner. Our voices practically echoed as we spoke. It would be a while before this changed. Me and Butterscotch had left the flying course early after the…incident, and the rest of the students were still out flying.

“Um…there’s something I’ve um…been…w-wanting to tell you for a v-very long time…” Scotch muttered out nervously. By the amount of pauses and stutters in his statement, I knew it was something big.

“Yeah, alright, what?” I asked with an uninterested shrug in an attempt to make whatever he was about to say seem less important; so he could spit it out a bit easier.

“Um…well…like I said, you’ve always been there for me…and have always been really nice to me, and protected me…and have just been an all-around great friend. You’re really my best friend…my only friend, but…” his sentence trailed off into a mumble and he rubbed and clacked his hooves together anxiously.

“But what?” I asked, raising my voice in annoyance. “Just say it already!” I hated when he got like that. It was taking way longer than it should have for him to say whatever he was going to say.

“But…I want to well, um, take our friendship a step further…”

“Huh?” I raised an eyebrow, tilting my head curiously.

“I…I-I love you, Blitzy…” he whispered almost inaudibly.

“Yeah, man, I love you too…thought we already established that?” Once again, I was young, naive, and stupid, more or less. I was thinking of love as in the brotherly bond between us. I guess it was more of a brother and sister bond though, since Scotch was such a girl.

“No…no…I mean like…as in…you know…”

My eyes nearly popped out of my head as it finally hit me. My face was on fire. I couldn’t see it, of course, but I’m sure I was blushing like a complete idiot. “…U-uh…what the literal fuck, Scotch?” I yelled, shaking my head as I pushed away from him awkwardly, making sure I was out of hoof’s reach.

“You’re so fuckin’ weird, man…I mean if you’re gay that’s cool and all…but I’m totally not…so just…lay off, alright?” I jumped off the bench and onto my hooves. My wings shot out from my sides, no not because I was turned on, because I was nervous. You know, anticipation, wanting to get the heck out of there.

“Uh…let’s get back out on the course. Coach’ll be pissed if we don’t show back up,” I sputtered out as some form of excuse. Scotch shook his head quietly, at both my response, and to my command. “What? They’re not gonna pull off another stunt like that again in the same day…alright?” He shook his head more forcefully this time, still not saying a word. “Damn it, Scotch…okay, let’s just get outta here, and take the day off? You deserve it.”

He smiled sweetly and nodded his head as he stood up on his hooves. I motioned for him to follow as I turned towards the exit.

For days after the event, I couldn’t get the thought of him admitting those feelings to me out of my head. I cringed every time the scene replayed in my head, but somehow it felt good too. In a way, it made me happy to know how much he really liked me. I didn’t want to date him or bang him, or anything like that, but it still made me happy. Maybe it was the attention…I did like attention.

***

Lost in my thoughts, I hadn’t really noticed when Butterscotch scooted his stool closer to mine; or when he rested his head against my shoulder again…or when he wrapped his hooves around me. It finally hit when my body starting warming up from his own.

I shook the memories away and realized that my friend was in the process of nuzzling his cheek against my own while rubbing a hoof across my back and against my wing. “Butterscotch! What the hay!” I shouted as I attempted to push him away.

“Mmm, come on, Blitzy…just one hug.” His grip was surprisingly strong, but I, of course, wasn’t using my full strength. I didn’t want to hurt him or anything.

“You already got a hug,” I muttered, attempting to pry his hoof away from my back. “And from the looks of it…it was a pretty damn long one. So get off, would ya?” He looked up at me with a sly smile and shook his head. “Scotch! Come on, bro!”

“Oh, just a little longer. Pretty please?” he asked sweetly, tightening his hold.

“Alright, you asked for it,” I stated as plainly as possibly before giving him a harsh shove. The wasted colt practically had no time to balance himself, or even notice he was falling, before he and his stool flipped backwards. I winced as his back hit the wooden floor beneath with a loud thud…at least it wasn’t his head, right?

“Shit,” I muttered beneath my breath as I peered down at him. He lay flat on his back and his wings just then unfurled, and pretty slowly if you ask me. Nice reaction time, Scotch, real nice. By the awkward expression on his face, I could tell that from his perspective, the world was spinning.

I hopped off my stool and onto all fours, then stepped over top of him. “Come on, Scotch. I think we’ve had enough for tonight. Let’s get you home,” I said with a sigh. I really didn’t want to deal with taking him all the way home. It was a long walk, and he was in no shape to fly. If he would’ve even attempted it anyways. Then I had to deal with whatever kind of mood it was that he was in. Horny? Lonely? Romantic? It was something like that, maybe even all three.

I offered him my hoof and he gladly latched on, but decided to let me do all the lifting. Unfurling my wings for extra lifting power, I glided up into the air and pulled my stumbling friend back up onto his hooves. I then dropped back to the floor with a clack and wrapped a wing around his waist before he could tip over again.

I turned with him and placed a small pile of bits on the bar as the bartender watched my every move. I was sure he had been eyeballing us the entire night…and now he was glaring.

“Hey, just because he’s different doesn’t mean it’s wrong or disgusting, or anything like that, okay?” I huffed at him fiercely, before turning with Butterscotch and heading for the door.

Just because I wasn’t a coltcuddler didn’t mean I hated it when people made fun of them or called them sick and wrong. It’s rarer than the traditional relationship, I guess; and even rare compared to fillyfooling, but that doesn’t make it bad. The only reason ponies are okay with fillyfooling is because it’s hot. I mean, come on, two mare’s making out? Who doesn’t love that…Anyways, it’s just like that, except two dudes instead of mares. I never understood all the hate; and it really pissed me off when ignorant flankholes acted like, well, ignorant flankholes. Especially when it was directed towards really great colts, somepony like Butterscotch. They just couldn’t look past that fact.

With all that hugging and nuzzling, I was sure the bartender thought we were just two major fags on a night out, and that’s what set me off. It may come as a big surprise, and it still surprises me even, but I didn’t care what he thought about me, only how he viewed Butterscotch. I knew how sensitive he got, especially when he drank. All I cared about was protecting him; and that protective nature of mine made me overlook the fact that the bartender was probably just glaring because the scene I’d caused. Everypony that was still in the bar was staring at us after all. Even that Berry guy had somehow managed to lift his head off the bar and look up, leaving a nice pool of drool where he had been sleeping. The sudden crash must have somehow woken him up from his alcohol induced coma.

I opened the door with my free wing, and a burst of cool, night air hit my face as we left. I glanced back as the door was swinging shut and watched as the grumbling bartender set the stool we had knocked over, back up.

Author's Note

Wait, what? Still no clop? Yeah, that's right. I'm tired of my clop having no connection or emotion between the characters which are involved. So let's make some emotional involvement, shall we? Don't worry, your clop will be coming soon enough, and this will only make it better.