Scotch on the Rocks

I took a deep breath of fresh air as we began our journey to Butterscotch’s cottage. It felt awesome to be out of that hot, stuffy old bar. It was quiet, only the peaceful sound of crickets and a few owls hooting in the distance. Calmness like that was something I normally wasn’t a big fan of; but after a night out, it felt good, great even. I sighed contently, looking around at the darkened homes of Ponyville, only a few with light still pouring out from their windows.

Swarms of moths and other bugs hung around the street lamps which lit our path, and a few bats swooped in and out of view snatching up a late night snack…or I guess for them it would be breakfast. There were only a few clouds in the sky, ones I probably ended up clearing the next day. Besides that, the skies were totally clear and the stars along with the moon shone brightly up above. Prince Artemis’ nights are pretty sweet if you ask me.

I’m sure Butterscotch would’ve been even more pleased about the scenery than I was if he wasn’t so drunk. It looked like pretty much all of his concentration was focused on not tripping over his own hooves and me. His eyes darted towards me every few seconds, then shot back down to the dirt path beneath.

There was a bit of a chill in the air that night. I would’ve hated to admit it, but I was glad Scotch’s body was pressed against mine as I held him steady with my wing. Otherwise, I might have gotten a bit cold. At least that cool air seemed to wave off a little of his drunkenness. He definitely seemed more alert and a little steadier on his hooves. Or maybe that was from the whole falling flat on his back incident. I know that would shook me out of it.

“Hey, uh, sorry about pushing you over back there. I wasn’t trying to or anything,” I mumbled.

“Oh, no… it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have been harassing you like that,” he replied sweetly. At least his speech had improved a bit from the slurred nonsense he was spewing earlier. “But, um, now that we’re out here…” he pulled his head away from my shoulder and his eyes scanned the desolate darkness around, “all by ourselves…and away from that silly bartender, we don’t… have to worry about anypony calling you a coltcuddler.”

I let out a huff as he rested his head against me again. “I wasn’t acting like that because of him. I did it because I’m not a fag.”

“Oh, Blitzy, I know how hard…” he paused to let out a soft hic, “it is to accept the fact that you’re interested in other colts. I understand… your hesitation,” he said as he pushed his body even closer against mine, his soft fur rubbing up against me.

“What? No…I’m not interested…ugh! Never mind,” I grumbled. “Just lay off the gay stuff for now, will ya?” I have to admit, I did admire the fact that he was so persistent about getting with me. He was normally so…well, submissive about everything, but he got pretty assertive when it came to the subject. He wouldn’t talk about it for months on end, but then all of the sudden it’d come back up, and he’d be nonstop when it came to attempting to convince me that I was a coltcuddler, and that I liked him.

“Please just give me a chance. I know you’re… curious about it, and I could be your first, an experiment… I guess you could call it.” He looked up at me with big, pleading puppy dog eyes and a slight, but hopeful frown on his face.

“Scotch, you know I hate it when you do that…you just look so damn cute…er…as in, ya know, animal cute like a puppy or a kitten or something…shit…” my sentence trailed off into a mumble, and then I got quiet. I was starting to feel like Scotch now. Even though it was cold out, I was starting to sweat.

Butterscotch’s cheeks began flushing pink from what I’d said. “Y-you really think I’m cute? Oh…Blitzy!” he exclaimed, or more or less gasped quietly.

I rolled my eyes, wanting to stop dead in my tracks and smack a hoof against my forehead. “No…no, I didn’t mean it like that, I just…wait!…how do you know I’m curious about coltcuddling? I am not! Where’d you even get that idea?” I sputtered out defensively.

“Don’t you remember?” he asked with an annoyingly sly smile.

“Remember what?”

“The first time we ever drank together?”

I shook my head slightly, trying to remember what he was talking about, and quickly lost myself in my thoughts.

***

“Do you really think we should be doing this? I mean, what if your parents find out?” A scrawny little Butterscotch asked me. This was a few weeks or so after the whole locker room incident. The cut above his eye was practically gone. We were sitting in my room, on the floor. A bottle of wine and two plastic cups sat between us.

“They’re both out at work, man. They just think you’re spending the night like always. We’ve never done anything bad before…that they know of. They trust us. We’ll be totally fine as long as you don’t go confessing to your parents or something like that…which you better not.” I smirked. “You’ve seen me kick some flank before, and I don’t think you’d like it if it was your flank being kicked, right?”

His eyes widened slightly. “Okay, okay…there’s no need to threaten me. I wasn’t going to tell anypony. Our secret is sealed.”

“Glad to hear it,” I said before bending forward and latching my teeth around the bottle’s cork. With a few tugs, the plug pulled out with a pop, and I spit it to the ground below. “And now we drink!” I said excitedly, the dark liquid glugging out as I filled our cups.

We raised our glasses for a toast, and I happily took down a huge gulp, then cringed at the bitter taste. “Ugh…this stuff tastes like shit!” I grumbled, my tongue, dyed purple, hanging from my mouth. “Are you sure this stuff isn’t expired or something?”

Scotch shook his head quietly, taking a few sips. “This is how it’s supposed to taste. I tried a drink from another bottle my mom took out of the cellar a while back.”

“I guess it just takes some getting used to then?” I asked with a shrug, taking another gulp. “I heard it takes a few glasses before you start feeling anything…but probably less for us since we have no tolerance.”

He nodded his head and smiled in response. “I’m really glad I’m doing this alone with you instead of going to that big party they’re having tonight. I don’t know if I could handle it…and just think about what they might do to us if we passed out.”

I shrugged again and nodded my head. “Yeah, let them have their party. I don’t wanna spend time with those flankholes anyways. Screw them!”

In reality, I really wished I’d been invited to the party they were throwing. I had dreams of being the cool guy that everypony liked, but big surprise coming, I actually wasn’t. I know, weird, right? Butterscotch was the only pony that’d ever hang with me. I mean, there were a few fillies that I caught the attention of here and there…but not many. It’s not like Butterscotch was my last desperate resort or anything though. He was fun, and a cool friend. I really liked spending time with him.

We drank the alcohol down quickly in hopes it’d get us drunker faster, and it was definitely working. By this point we were already about halfway through our second glass, and I was already feeling a bit off. I’d be feeling like this fairly often throughout the rest of my Flight School career. All the headaches and sick days were probably what got me kicked out…that, and the not following the rules thing.

“If you don’t mind me asking; you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, but what happened with that filly you were dating?” Scotch asked curiously after downing a gulp.

I thought about the question for a while, taking way longer than I should have to process any kind of ideas…and struggling to keep my body from swaying back and forth. The wine was hitting me hard…really hard.

“I just…uh…we…well, I dunno,” I muttered, not really wanting to talk about it in the first place. I really didn’t know what happened. We dated for about two weeks and then everything just sort of went to shit. I didn’t know how to explain it. “Yeah, I don’t wanna talk about it…” I said with a sigh.

“It’s okay, Blitzy…I understand,” he mumbled, struggling to pour us both some more wine. “I’m here for you though…and, um, I know you said…well, you said you weren’t interested in other colts…but um, if you ever want to give it a try. I…I’ll be your coltfriend.”

I gazed forward at him, not fully sure what was going through my head. “I…I guess it’s worth a try,” I said, slightly nodding my head. “I’ve never been with a colt before and stuff…” I closed my eyes for a moment, nearly falling over onto my side. They shot back open as I continued. “I trust you, and I know you…and you’re not all that bad looking…especially for a colt. You sorta act like a filly anyways.” I chuckled at my own joke, still not exactly sure what I was doing.

A weird new feeling came over me as I continued to stare at him. I felt warm inside, content, happy…I wanted more. I moved forward and wrapped my hooves around him, watching his face grow red, and feeling his body freeze in my grasp. It was the same feeling I got when he first told me he liked me, except way better.

He slowly brought his shaking hooves up to my waist and gently grasped my sides. I could feel my mouth widening into a grin as I rubbed my hoof up and down his back.

“Don’t get all shy now, Scotch,” I mumbled, placing my hoof beneath his chin and forcing his head up so that we faced each other eye to eye. I pulled him closer and could feel his heart pounding as my chest pressed against his. I puckered my lips, tilted my head, and pressed our muzzles together softly. A surprised gasp burst from his mouth and into my own. I could taste the wine on his breath.

Finally, he got up the nerve to start kissing back instead of just sitting there and letting me do all the work. This only made me feel the need to kiss back deeper. I opened my mouth slightly wider and let my tongue push out from between my lips and against his. As I made my way just slightly into his mouth, his tongue met mine…