One Way Road

“...So, you’ll be meeting him at The Blue Moon at eight. Of course you’re paying for it, and I made the reservation on your name,” summed up Rising Star. “What would you do without me, sir?”

Winter smiled a little. “I’d be lost and stupid,” he snorted out, lightly bumping his grinning subordinate’s shoulder. “I’m still not certain this is such a good idea. I’d rather just talk it out in private, you know-”

Rising Star interrupted with a hoof to Snow’s muzzle, tsking in a motherly fashion. “Of course you would. But like I already explained to you, you’re intimidating to that batpony. If you saw the face he made when I mentioned I was your friend, you’d burn of shame man. It took me long enough to even convince him to lend your apologies an ear. Which brings us to the subject of what you’re actually gonna say.”

The sergeant remained silent, looking away for a second. “I just want to say I’m really sorry. That I acted upon false pretenses and should have not reacted as harshly as I did. I want him to know it won’t happen again and that-”

“Nah, that sounds too dry,” retorted Rising, waving down his superior. “You have to say it in a way he will understand. You have to think really hard about how he felt while you shouted at him, shoved him around, made him cry. You have to make him stop fearing you. Frankly, I’m not even sure if that’s possible anymore. I wouldn’t be surprised if he just wouldn’t show up at all.”

Winter bit his lip. “You think he wouldn’t? But he said he’d come-”

“He said he’d try and be there. You have to understand - he’s afraid. Ugh,” sighed the brown stallion, pacing around his superior. “It’s hard to explain to someone who never experienced it. It’s that kind of fear that makes your bowels churn when you even think about that person. It’s a trauma that can stay with a pony for his whole life. Hey, I’m not saying that’s the case here, just that it’s a possibility,” rectified Rising, seeing Snow’s expression grow gloomier by the minute.

“This is all pointless, ain’t it?” asked Winter, resignation in his voice. “He’s not going to show up. I’m going to live out my life knowing I can be a monster at the tip of a hat. Perfect.”

“Sir! That is not true! We all have our moments of weakness. Yours was just...well, fueled by confusion.”

“But it was such an insignificant matter! What normal equine being flips out so hard over sex? It’s a normal thing ponies do! And I made a big enough deal out of it to traumatise an innocent guy who was nothing but nice and accepting, and, and good to me!”

Silence fell between the two. They were following the outline of the now empty training fields, a light and refreshing drizzle gracing their bodies.

“Winter. Sir. Each pony is different. We all have things we freak out over, regardless of how stupid or irrational it may seem to another. Like, me for example. If anything happened to my filly, I’d scream bloody murder and flip the world upside down. She’s my precious baby and- ”

“She’s your child! That’s different,” muttered Snow, kicking at the wet dirt. “But I see what you’re trying to say. It’s just that...I never thought it would be such a big deal for me. I’m surprised at myself. And angry. I'm not homophobic or anything! I guess I need time to figure out exactly why I acted that way.”

“Well, take your time sergeant. We got plenty o’ walkin to do before our shift ends,” snorted Star, poking his superior with a friendly hoof. Winter finally started smiling a bit more.

* * *

It was around seven thirty when Snow walked through the door of the Blue Moon, one of the more expensive restaurants in Canterlot. He was immediately hit by the serene and soothing atmosphere. In the corner of the brightly lit salon was a quartet playing a hushed tune, simple notes that worked wonders on the stallion’s nerves. Only a few tables were left empty, most of the others occupied by fancy looking ponies wearing expensive clothes.

“Um, hello. I’m here for a reservation? U-Uh, Snow Winter? I mean, Winter Snow!” nervously said the stallion, dabbing at his black bow-tie. He felt stupid for not having any other clothes that would fit the fancy restaurant Rising chose for him.

The waiter looked the sergeant up and down, silently judging him for a minute before looking at the book in front of him. “Hmmm, yes. There is indeed a reservation, but it is due in thirty minutes. Sincere apologies, but your table is not ready yet.” He said, giving a slight bow.

“U-Um,” started the stallion, nervously looking around. “B-But there are other tables over there. And there,” he said, pointing to the empty spaces.

“I’m sorry sir, but those are reserved for our other guests. I am truly sorry for the inconvenience, but we are trying to run everything as smoothly as possible. Your table should be ready within a few minutes. Excuse me for a second,” finished the waiter, trotting away and disappearing behind a double door.

Winter stood there, not sure if it was okay to sit or not. This was the first time he ever came to such an establishment. On a date. With a batpony he had to sincerely apologise to and hope against hope he would actually show up. He felt really nervous and sick to the stomach. He felt hungry, opting to rehearse his lines rather than eat anything before departing. “This was a bad idea,” he muttered out, gulping loudly.

The waiter came back after a few minutes and finally led the stallion to a table that had been empty ever since he came to the Blue Moon. Winter decided he wouldn’t make a ruckus over it, since it would be counter-productive if Wing found him arguing with the server about having to wait a little because he came in early.

“Would you like some drinks while you wait for your partner, sir?” asked the waiter, hoofing a small menu to Winter.

“He’s not my partner,” grunted out Snow, biting his tongue shortly afterwards. “I mean, thank you, I-I’ll just have some water, please. Thank you!” added the stallion, smiling sheepishly at the waiter. “And now we wait, huh? I bet he won’t come anyway. If what Rising Star said was true, I’ll just end up paying for my water and leaving. How much is water here anyway,” he mused, flipping the menu open. “Wow. Really? For a glass of water? Geez.”

* * *

Time passed and Winter was sparingly sipping on his water. The clock indicated it was half past eight, and the waiter kept coming back more frequently to ask if the stallion wanted to order anything or have another drink. He was both sad and annoyed, but he understood - the batpony couldn’t bear to see him, much less listen to him talk. It was over and that’s the most closure Snow would get out of this.

The stallion was ready to call the waiter when he noticed a new pony enter the Blue Moon. Many came and went during his time here, but this one made Winter’s heart skip two beats - one from relief, the other from stress.

Dancer was standing there, talking to the server who looked at Snow and pointed towards him. The batpony glanced sideways, his ears instantly hugging the back of his head.

Not a good sign, thought Winter to himself. He watched the tense ash colt slowly make his way down towards him, avoiding even looking in his general direction. Okay Winter, you can do this. What Rising Star said - wait for him to open up, to start the conversation. Don’t raise your voice, don’t interrupt him, no sudden movements.

It was painful to see the the once so cheerful colt so gingerly sit across from him. He looked like he was ready to bolt for the door if Winter as much as said “hello” to him. As per Rising’s instructions, he stuck his gaze to the glass in front of him, observing the batpony from the corner of his eye.

* * *

The waiter came by and took Wing’s order - a glass of water. The colt was utterly shaking inside and was making a conscious effort to not show it. He wasn’t really sure why he came here in the first place - all these fancy ponies were dressed so nicely. Even Snow had something on his neck, although he couldn’t tell what it was. He tried to not catch any eye contact with the stallion - he felt that the sensation would overwhelm him and cause him to flee.

Truth be told, Snow’s friend made the batpony realise he still cared about the stallion, at least a tiny bit. Hearing about how much he was sorry and how he regretted the words he said, Wing felt it would be only right to give Winter a shot. He would listen to him, thank him for the invitation and be done with it. Maybe then he could move on, closing a chapter of his life marked with laziness and lack of achievements.

The silence between them became unbearable. The batpony cleared his throat and, with all the courage he could muster, he started: “S-Soo...uh, hi. Snow.”

“Hi, Wing,” replied the stallion in a small voice. It was calm and soft, nothing like the thundering fury Dancer witnessed just a few days ago. “You doing alright?”

“Y-Yeah, I guess,” replied the batpony, lowering his head, staring at his glass. “H-How about you?”

There was a slight pause before the stallion replied. “I feel bad,” he started. After another brief pause, he continued: “I’ve treated you horribly. But, I-I guess you already know that. The thing is, I’m really sorry. I have never been so sorry for what I’ve done in my entire life. All the sorry’s in the world couldn’t tell you how sorry I am.”

Wing’s face twitched in a short smile, his gaze running around the table, precisely avoiding looking at Winter’s hooves on the other side. The words he said were nice, and the batpony felt how true they rang. Snow was really sorry and Dancer’s heart began hoping again. As much as he wanted to not feel for the pony, he just couldn’t shake off the faint bond that lingered between them.

“I know that words aren’t worth much. And that this dinner here won’t compensate for what you had to go through with me,” continued Snow in his soft voice. “Remember when I said I didn’t want to see that face sad? I still don’t want to. I’ll do anything to make you happy again. I mean it.”

Wing noticed white hooves creeping up on him across the table. He felt panic rise steadily, but he didn’t move his own legs away. He kept them clamped on the glass, the tension sending spikes of numbness up his arms. He expected to feel a cold, steel grip, or a yank that would send him sprawling across the table.

He winced as Winter’s hooves reached his. They were warm and gentle, touching him for only a second before retreating a little, hovering in an uncertain state. “C-Can I? I promise I won’t hurt you or anything...I j-just...”

Wing sighed shortly, glancing at Snow’s muzzle. He looked really troubled. His eyes were kind of sad. The batpony slowly nodded, relaxing his numbing hooves and laying them on either side of the glass. He watched them be enveloped in white again, delicately, as if they were made of glass themselves. The sensation was nice and comforting.

“I-I’ll understand if you won’t want anything from me. I’m really happy you came anyway. I-It was...really nice to see you again,” whispered out the stallion.

“I...Thank you,” replied Wing. He had a burning desire to look at Winter again, but at the same time he was too afraid to maintain eye contact with him. Yet. “I-It’s nice...t-to,” he stuttered, gulping nervously. Steadily, his gaze started crawling up the white legs, stopping at the shoulders and broad chest. He remembered the feeling of that skin against his face as he lay on it after…

With a bit of hesitation, the batpony retreated his hooves to his sides. Winter’s didn’t follow. “S-Sorry. I...C-Can I tell you something?” he asked risking another glance at the sergeant’s face. Winter nodded silently.

* * *

Snow slowly pulled his hooves back to his side of the table. The feeling of the batpony’s shaking legs in his own made him even more uneasy. They were so warm and fragile - he had no idea anypony could be that tender. He felt a growing need to embrace the colt, help him settle down. It was heart breaking to see him stutter so much, his gaze wandering around, avoiding looking at him at all.

“I-I thought about what you said,” gulped the batpony. “You were k-kind of right...I didn’t have much to go around, heh.”

Shame made Snow’s ears droop, forcing his look away from the slender form. He wanted to stop him right there and then, explain that he didn’t really mean it. It was his insecurities talking, not the Winter Snow that sat in front of him now. When he talks, you listen, repeated the stallion in his mind, just let him finish and get his burden on the table.

“B-But I’m changing. I think I’ll get...get a new job soon. As a secretary, a-at some larger company,” he paused for a while, rolling his half-empty glass in his hooves. “I...I’m really sorry, you know?” he blurted out. “It was inconsiderate of me to b-be so p-pushy on you. I was f-forcing you to make...make changes. And we barely even knew each other...”

Winter was fidgeting on his cushion. He wanted to speak up so badly, assure the batpony it wasn’t like that! It was just him having issues with his sexuality, his own fault! Instead, he just watched the colt’s body tense up.

Wing Dancer pursed his lips together. He expected the stallion to start shouting at him any minute now. It felt really uncomfortable to be saying all these things, but he just couldn’t stop now. The words forced themselves out of his mouth of their own volition: “But I still liked it. I l-liked you. I-I’m terribly sorry to have...imposed my feelings on you. I won’t...since you...obviously don’t want it,” he finished in a slightly trembling voice, clamping down on the glass. The water’s surface quaked slightly.

“Are you ready to order, sirs?”

The unexpected voice startled Dancer. He flung his forehooves into the air, a high pitched yelp escaping him. Time slowed down as he caught sight of his water glass majestically fly through the air, finally free of the batpony’s tight grasp. The fluids inside formed a shapeless blob, no longer constrained by the limitations of it’s container.

Snow, having snapped his attention to the waiter, ready to shoo him away in the most important moment of the night, saw movement from the corner of his eye. His overloaded brain was sluggish, and only now did it register the distressed scream and subsequent projectile launched straight at his face. His years of training could easily make up for his confused state - his body was taught to avoid danger even when it’s owner wasn’t fully aware of the situation. This time, however, through a combination of guilt and what could be called a will to be punished, it decided to freeze and brace for impact. The white stallion closed his eyes and crumpled his nose.

* * *

Wing Dancer silently sat on his pillow, staring down at his stiff hooves. He was exhausted, having apologised over and over again for throwing his glass at Snow. Not only did the sergeant get his face wet, but the edge of the glass produced a small cut on his nose. The thin red line was neatly covered by a napkin now. For some reason, the guard had a mild smile on his face.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence between the two, Winter finally decided to speak up. “Wing Dancer,” he started in the softest tone he could muster. He tried reaching a hoof across the table again, but the colt didn’t respond. “I really deserved that, even if you didn’t intend it. And it’s no big deal, really. I’ve had worse.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “Listen. Words really can’t say how painful it is to see you so...tense. So unhappy. Because of me. I want...I would like to start over. Treat you right this time. Give it a chance. I promise I won’t screw up this time - I won’t let my stupid insecurities get the better of me and hurt you again. If you’d only let me...”

Wing Dancer’s ears twitched slightly. The stallion wanted to start over? Did that mean he wanted to actually keep seeing him? His heart pounded hard against his chest now, reminding the batpony of its existence. His cheeks were flushed red despite the thick fog of confusion bogging down his mind. Should he accept? Should he decline? What if the stallion hurts him again? What if this is all just Winter’s guilt talking, and he’ll bail as soon as the feeling passes?

Just as his reason was starting to tip the battle in its favor, the disrespectful heart pushed his body to action. Slowly, it guided his hoof to Snow’s, lightly pressing against it. The other pony’s hoof gently glided over his, caressing it like a lover would. Dancer’s doubts faded away as his eyes locked onto Winter’s, the brown eyes of the stallion expressing both relief and joy.

Snow’s mind was as hollow as the batpony’s, his own heart threatening to smash his ribs to pieces. The colt’s blue eyes were sparkling again, hope shyly glinting in the electric sea of azure. He didn’t know what he said exactly, but he felt it was right. All he could hear was dull pounding in his ears. The warm hoof under his was soft and delicate, like a most precious gift he wanted to hold forever. He was afraid. Each second that passed in silence threatened to end this magical moment - the eyes would look away, the hoof would-

“I...” started Wing Dancer in the smallest of voices. “I...would like...to-”

“Would you like to order now, sirs?”

* * *

It was around ten in the afternoon. The moon started its journey across the sky, its delicate, silver light flooding the near empty streets of Canterlot. Most ponies were in their homes, enjoying their company or wrapped in deep slumber. Some were just returning, having worked an entire day, looking forward to the loving embraces of their families. Two ponies in particular were strolling down a barely lit side-alley.

One of them was a batpony, an ash colt with a faint smile on his muzzle. He would peek at his companion from time to time, a rather bulky white earth pony stallion, making sure he wasn’t ahead of the limping equine.

Wing Dancer stifled another giggle. After all the stress he went through today, he couldn’t help but laugh, replaying the dramatic scene at the Blue Moon over and over again in his head.

He was just about to say something when the waiter picked that exact moment to appear again. The interruption made him jump slightly, causing Winter’s hoof to slide down. He didn’t have even a split second to react as he saw his companion’s features change into a terrifying mask. A sudden rush of fear was instantly replaced by confusion and shock when he heard a loud smack and saw the poor server tumble backwards.

“Can’t you just fuck off?!” bellowed Snow, huffing loudly. The whole room went silent, the discrete band in the corner giving off a few false sounds before halting to a stunned stop themselves. “I-I’m s-sorry. You were saying?” asked the white stallion, his ears plastered against the back of his head and a most silly grin stuck on his face. That was the first time Dancer laughed today.

Of course, the subsequent militia and night guard interventions weren’t as hilarious. Winter was charged with assault, to which he opted to pay a fine and profusely apologise to the shaken waiter. Him and Dancer left in a hurry, the batpony trying to remain calm despite his sudden urge to laugh uncontrollably.

“Y-You really didn’t h-have to punch him that hard, W-Winter,” mumbled out the ash colt, suppressing another round of giggling.

“Sorry,” groaned Snow in response. He really shouldn’t have punched him that hard. The sudden maneuver strained his already tense muscles, causing needles of pain to march up and down his left front leg as he walked. “He had really bad timing though...I-I really...wanted to know...”

Wing stopped dead in his tracks. He looked intently at the confused stallion, watching his ears slowly go down. It was strange to see the guardspony like this. One minute he could be a savage brute, the other a delicate and insecure pony. He had both great passion and strength in him. He was dangerous, but at the same time very rewarding. The batpony’s reasoning decided to stay out of it - it was a lost cause at this point anyway. It would just wait for the inevitable “I told you so” moment. But for now?

Snow watched the ash colt gingerly tip toe to his side, shyly pressing a muzzle against his broad barrel. The touch sent pleasurable ripples across the tired guard’s body. The batcolt kept moving forward, connecting his neck and shoulders to Winter’s until his snout reached the guard’s neck. The nocturnal equine nuzzled his ear, whispering the sweetest words he had ever heard: “I’d really like to start over too, sir.”

Very carefully and slowly, Winter craned his head around, pressing his cheek against the smaller colt’s. He still smelled like lavender.