One Way Road

Wing Dancer’s excitement was quickly thawed by the serious look on Winter’s face. The stallion looked very tense and was eyeing him with a cold stare. The batpony felt something was terribly wrong.

“I-Is everything alright, Winter? You look kind of-” he started but was immediately hushed by the large guard’s sudden advancement.

“I must admit,” he started, the tone of his voice sending an eerie chill down the ash colt’s spine. “You are one hell of an actor. I almost believed you, you know?” He paused for a second, slowly starting to circle the confused batpony. “You played your part masterfully. Tell me, is it a standard routine for you? Or did the boys have to pay extra for this?”

Wing started feeling light-headed. He hadn’t the slightest clue what the stallion meant. With his ears flat against the back of his head, he tried to open his mouth, only to be interrupted again by Winter bolting straight to his face.

“Did you even enjoy yourself? Or were the moans just part of the job description, hmm?” Winter stared down into the blue eyes, his anger rising steadily to a boiling point. The colt acted all stupid and surprised, looking away and stuttering for an answer. “You make me sick,” continued the stallion, poking a steel hoof at the timid chest. “You think you can just mess with ponies’ heads like that? Just, you know, strut down into a bar, select a treat like in a goddamn candy shop and take it home to chow down? Is that how it is?”

Tears started forming at the corners of Dancer’s eyes. He didn’t understand why the stallion was so mad, the screaming scaring him. He wanted to talk back, ask him to settle down and explain, but...he just felt too intimidated. All he could do was take the smiting words with a terrified expression, crumbling into a shaking ball under the steel gaze of Winter.

“Don’t wanna talk? Fine. That’s even better. All I really wanted was to make one thing clear. You toyed with the wrong earth pony. I will not be your friend, much less your next plaything. You’re a despicable being and you should be ashamed of yourself! I’m glad you didn’t get admitted to the night guard,” he screamed, pushing the now sobbing batpony back against a wall. “Trash like you would only ruin it! All you do is play these goddamn games and fuck, right?! Is there anything more to your sad little life other than giving tail to anyone who flashes a badge at ya?! Huh?! ANSWER ME!”

* * *

The maintenance pony was grumpily trotting down the road, tugging his cart with some difficulty. The wheel came off just a few minutes before, but being a unicorn, he could re-attach it with moderate ease, even if the fix wasn’t perfect. The wagon groaned and creaked but moved along nonetheless.

He was just about to enter the arcade when the doors suddenly burst open, a figure tumbling out. Before he was given a chance to open his mouth, the pony rushed past, tripping over the uneven, barely lit pavement. He could hear sobbing fade away in the distance.

Shortly after the sounds died off, the doors swung open again, a burly white earth pony slowly walking outside and taking a deep breath.

“Uhh,” started the maintenance unicorn, raising an eyebrow, “everythin okay, buddy? I saw that other guy run out and-”

“It’s fine,” flatly stated Winter, beginning to walking away.

“H-Hey! Wait up, I came here-”

“Go home buddy. The arcade is closed.”

* * *

Wing ran. He ran as fast as he could, away from the ringing in his head and the terrible echo of Winter’s words. He tripped and fell a few times, barely seeing anything through the tears in his eyes.

He didn’t understand. He couldn’t grasp why the stallion was so furious at him. Why did he say all those terrible things? Why did he shove him so forcefully? He could have just said that he didn’t like the idea of being with him. There was no need to hurt him to the bare bone, going so far as to calling him trash and...and a cheap whore.

That wasn’t even the most hurtful part. He was used to being called names and poked fun at, but never by anypony like Winter. He seemed so kind and sweet at first. But now? In his mind, Wing Dancer could only think of him as a monster - a terrifying, lumbering beast who could hurt him. He was certain he would, had the batpony not fled in time.

He fumbled at the doors for a while, unable to stop his hooves from shaking. It took him a few moments to get inside, running past the dreaded sofa and into the bedroom. His instincts made him lunge under it, rolling into a shivering ball.

He felt cold inside. He had nausea, his stomach somersaulting in dread and fear. He wouldn’t have suspected for the life of him that one of the most promising romantic adventures he ever had would end in such a disaster. He didn’t know nor understand what he did wrong. Maybe he advanced too fast? Maybe the stallion perceived his little session as rape? Maybe it was this morning’s little accident that made him furious after all?

Whatever the case, it was over. His face soaked in tears, the pony gradually slipped into an uneasy slumber, shuddering despite the warm, summer night.

* * *

Snow was enjoying a cold shower, the tension of the day finally flowing down the drain. He suppressed any form of regret he had for making the tender batcolt run out in tears like that - in his mind, the rat deserved it. Someone needed to tell him the naked truth, even if he was a bit overzealous in bashing him.

It was probably unfair to shove him around like that, almost tossing him against the wall, but the stallion wanted to make sure he got the message the first time around. He wanted to cut in deep, hurt him just as much as he himself felt.

“No,” he muttered, splashing water around with his muzzle. “He got what was coming to him. He should have known better to have left me alone. The guys knew I was not okay with any of that. You don’t force a pony’s hoof. Every action warrants a reaction,” he snorted, whipping his tail.

The stain on his back was persistent, but it faded away with each soapy bucket of water the stallion poured over his back, followed by frantic scratching. He wanted to get rid of this tramp stamp of his as soon as possible, even at the expense of his own skin. He never again wanted to see the escort pony. Or think about him. Ever.

After what felt like a couple of hours, feeling refreshed and clean, the stallion dragged his weary limbs to the small, simple bed in his living room. It never felt so good in his entire life and the guard quickly fell into an unbothered, dreamless sleep.

* * *

“Hey man,” started Rising Star, catching his superior in the barracks as he was gearing up for the morning shift. “Listen. I’m sorry I teased you so much yesterday, okay? I didn’t mean to cross the line. I was just having some fun, okay? Didn’t know you’d get so offended.”

Winter sighed and rolled his eyes. He had no intention of picking the subject up ever again. “Just drop it, okay? What’s done is done. You and the guys had your fun and proved that your superior can put his junk into a male whore’s mouth. There. Can we move on with our lives?”

The private stood there with his brows raised and mouth agape. “Guh?” he spattered out, shaking his head violently and trotting over to the sergeant. “Wait, what? You lost me there for a second. What was that about your junk and a whore? Did you actually get laid and I didn’t notice?”

“Private Rising Star, just drop the act,” groaned Winter. “Why do you have to spoil my good mood the moment you open your mouth?”

The brown stallion gave a frustrated groan and stopped, pulling at his superior’s tail decisively. Before the other could reply, he interjected: “What act? What are you going on about? Just rewind here for a second and explain to me exactly what in Celestia’s name happened yesterday!”

“Well,” started Snow, furrowing his brow in mild annoyance, “you should know best. You and the guys hired that male escort and paid him off to give me ‘a good time’. I gave him a piece of my mind yesterday. Do you need one too? I got plenty to go around,” he sneered, feeling his anger ignite once again.

“What the hell? Dude, I had nothing to do with anything! I told you, it was your damn business you didn’t want a buddy to help you get your dick wet,” exclaimed Star, startling Winter into taking a step back. “And you did what? To who? Have you been on some acid or something? Sir?”

Winter Snow was blinking absent-mindedly at his subordinate. His anger immediately crawled back to it’s hidey-hole, prodding confusion awake and tripping over dread. “No,” he whispered to himself.

“R-Rising Star,” begun Winter, his voice shaking slightly, “can you positively, with a hoof on your heart tell me that you had nothing to do with me meeting that batpony, Wing Dancer? Can you swear on your mother’s life it wasn’t you or any of the other guys?”

Seeing his sergeant’s distress, the private put on a serious face. “Sir, I can swear on the life of my unborn children and their grandchildren that neither me nor any of the other guards would do such a thing. I was very wrong to suggest this option to you in the first place, and-”

Before he was given a chance to finish, Winter was already gone. The private shook his head slightly, looking over the scratch marks the fleeing stallion left behind in his frantic gallop. Someone would have a lot of marble flooring to fix, and Star would sure as hell not get blamed for it. As swiftly as he could, he hurried along his way, reaching the next checkpoint on his route alone.

“What the hell, sergeant,” he muttered, looking around nervously. “What the hell?”

* * *

Wing Dancer called in sick today. While his body was fine, save for the lack of hunger and surging shivers from time to time, he felt really bad all over. The remorse and sadness from yesterday lingered - everything he did he either fumbled or left half-done, not capable of focusing on even the simple task of pouring himself some water.

He appreciated the warm words the arcade owner gave him. At least somepony still liked him and didn’t see him as a failure, appreciating the talents he had. If playing games and serving drinks could even be considered a talent. Winter was sort of right - the batpony wasn’t much use to anyone and could easily be seen as expendable. Anyone could do his job just as well - taking away that left him with nothing. Just a sad, lonely game geek who couldn’t get into the night guards due to a bad knee.

“Wingie, you’re not even good at moping, you know?” he whispered to himself, still hidden under the bed. “You shouldn’t be this upset over a stranger, you know? So what, you had sex. He said some mean words and didn’t want to see you ever again. That’s fine. Plenty of ponies cuss at you and wish you death. It’s part of life to be hated by some.” He stopped for a moment, trying to choke back the tears. “But why did he have to hate me?”

Before he could break into a full out bawl, he heard knocking from the other room. Somepony really wanted him to answer, as the bashing went on harder and harder, some inaudible shouts drifting under the bed.

Gingerly, the batpony crawled from his hidey-hole and drifted into the living room. The pony on the other side was hammering away mercilessly.

“Wing Dancer! Open up! Please! I know you’re in there, please, just hear me out!”

The batpony froze. He instantly recognised the voice, his ears snapping to the back of his neck. As silently as he could, he started tip-toing back to the bedroom.

“I’m sorry! Please! I know you’re here, please, just hear me out! I tried at the arcade, but your boss said you called in sick! I…I really don’t know how to apologize for this! I’m an idiot who got the wrong idea, okay?!”

The room went silent, Wing Dancer stopping at the entrance to his hallway. He wanted to jump under the bed, but his legs wouldn’t move. The voice on the other side of the heavy wooden door sounded sincere.

“Wing? Even if you can’t hear me, I’m still going to apologize, okay? I was an ass. I have no clue what I was thinking back there. I was really...really,” the voice stuttered, struggling and breaking. For a longer time Snow seemed to struggle for the right words. He finally took a deep breath and continued: “The truth is, I was really confused. The truth is, I really...started...liking you.” At this point, the batpony had to strain to hear. He took a few hesitant steps back, softly pressing an ear to the door.

“I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to believe it was a set up. I wanted to be angry, I wanted for it to be a trick. I’m not a homosexual!” whispered the guard into the door, pressing his forehead against the mute door. “B-But at the same time...the fun time we had...it was scary to me, you know? All my life I’ve had my eye on mares. I never even thought about...that part of...sexuality.”

The batpony slumped against the door, leaving a wet trail where his teary cheeks connected to the cool wooden surface. He felt torn. Just yesterday, this pony was screaming bloody murder and hating him for the very fact he existed. Now he was apologising in a breaking voice. What was the point of it? To confuse him? He realised he went overboard and was now seeking forgiveness for his own peace of mind?

“I’ve said really harsh words,” continued Winter, straining to hear if there was anything happening on the other side. “I didn’t mean them. I was a horrible, terrible person. I wanted to...I was out of line. There is no excuse, I confess. You might not even be hearing this, or even want to. I don’t need you to forgive me. I know I wouldn’t want to. I don’t know...”

Dancer lay on the floor of his apartment. His mind and heart were having a fierce battle over whether or not he should at least talk to the stallion. On one hoof, he really did sound sincere, and he kind of understood where his confusion was coming from. On the other hoof though, Snow did say all those terrible things. He bashed him for no reason at all, despite the batpony doing whatever he could to just make him happy. Even if his silly heart felt a pang of hope, it would have to be snuffed out in the end. “Go away,” whispered out Wing, a stream of tears flowing down his muzzle.

On his side, Snow heard a voice say something. His heart skipped a beat as he lay his whole body across the door, straining to hear. “Hello! Wing! Are you there?! Hello?!”

“Go away!” shouted back Dancer in a high pitched voice. He picked himself up and ran under the bed again, choking on his tears. “Just go away,” he mouthed, shutting his eyes tight. “Just leave and don’t come back.”