I Bet You Sing Like That One Famous Pony

Trapped is the only word that comes to mind when Thunderlane opens his door and sees Fleetfoot leaning on the door-frame, smiling like she knows how uncomfortable her simply being there is making him.

“How come you didn’t come down to the party, everyone is asking where you are.” Thunderlane shrugs noncommittally and regresses back into the darkness of his hotel room.

“I dunno, parties aren’t really my thing.” The words taste false and sour on his tongue, Fleetfoot snorts like she can smell the bullshit he’s spewing from halfway across the room.

“Parties aren’t your thing huh? The same pegasus who bogarted an entire keg of cider for himself with the intention of doing the longest keg-stand in Cloudsdale history suddenly decides that parties aren’t for him? I don’t buy what you’re selling, not for a second.”

“I’m just tired Fleetfoot.”

“Really? I thought only foals and prunes went to bed at 7:30.”

“Can you just leave me alone?”

“No, I can’t.” Fleetfoot stalks across the room with speed that does her namesake justice. “Your crappy attitude lately has been making everypony else’s attitude stink just as bad; so unless you can get the wrinkles out of your vagina on your own you’ve got some serious splannin’ to do.”

“What makes you think I have to explain anything to you?” Fleetfoot is in front of him in a flash, the same cantankerous fire in her eyes.

“Not to me Thunderlane, I’m just the go-between as to why you’re acting so shitty lately.”

“Buck off,” Thunderlane retreats to his bed and surrenders to the sheets. “And don’t let the door hit you in the flank on the way out.” Thunderlane hears the bestial sound of Fleetfoot’s rage before he feels the hooves crash onto the bed on either side of him.

“No, one way or another you’re gonna sing for me.” Thunderlane rolls onto his back, an offensive cocked and ready on his tongue. Fleetfoot sees the beginnings of rebellion aimed in her direction, to which she raises a challenging brow.

“Start singin’.” Fleetfoot growls, her maw curling upward threateningly.

“No.” Fleet foot drops her weight directly onto Thunderlane’s chest.

“You better have the prettiest voice I’ve ever heard.”

“What do you want from me?”

“An explanation, Celestia, how many times do I have to say it?”

“As to what?” Fleetfoot gets right up in his face, her breath hot and billowing.

“As to why you’ve been avoiding Spitfire like she’s got feather flu!”

“I haven’t been-”

“Don’t you even bucking dare. I’ve seen the way you look at her lately. Celestia Thunderlane, everypony on the team knows there’s something going on between you two. I mean, you practically turn white whenever she starts talking to you.” Wheels grind into motion in Fleetfoot’s head as the cognitive process begins to slowly fill in the pieces of the puzzle she’d been trying for days to figure out.

“Holy buck, you’ve totally got it bad for Spitfire, I can’t believe it took me this long to realize.”

“That’s not even it,” Thunderlane objects, craning his neck as far toward her as he can.

“Horse shit.”

“She’s the one with the crush!” Thunderlane gasps like he just accidentally killed somepony, Fleetfoot smiles the same triumphant, prideful smile she always has after they win a competition or place in the Equestrian games.

“On you?”

“No, now get off!” Thunderlane bucks and thrashes to the best of his abilities, but is unable to shake the weight pinning him to the bed.

“You might as well just tell me, loverboy, I can sit here all night.”

“Buck you,” Thunderlane snarls up at her, she continues to grin down at him.

“Don’t you mean buck Spitfire?”

“And you say I’m acting shitty?”

“Yes, you were. What I don’t understand is why you’re avoiding her if she’s got a crush on you.” Once again the gears in Fleetfoot’s head whirr to life and her eyes narrow to sharp, inquiring slits. “Are you a colt-cuddler?”

“No,” Thunderlane spits. “I am not now nor will I ever be a colt-cuddler.”

“So what’s your deal then? Why the heck are you acting so weird around Spitfire?”

Thunderlane stares challengingly up at her again and is met with possibly the most resolute look he’s ever seen. “You want the truth?”

“That’s why I’m here.”

“Fine,” A heavy sigh escapes him, the removal of Fleetfoot’s weight doing nothing to ease the burden.

“I’m scared,” simply admitting that feels like enough of a push to get him going; and with Fleetfoot imploring him so strongly with her eyes, he continues.

“I don’t know how to explain it really. When I was a faol I used to hang out with all the neighborhood kids practically all day. Heck, I was over at someone else’s house more than I was at my own. Then when I started school I just gradually stopped hanging out with other ponies more and more until eventually we didn’t even talk anymore. Eventually I just decided I liked to keep to myself and I spent so much time by myself that I guess I just forgot how to socialize with other ponies.”

Fleetfoot nods but there is still clear and present confusion present in her eyes. “I don’t understand though, whenever we party, you’re practically the only thing keeping it alive, how can you sit here and tell me you’re afraid to socialize?”

“I guess the fact that I’m just a face in a bigger crowd helps some; but half the time I just act all lively and social because I feel like its what ponies expect from me y’know? When I’m doing that kind of stuff it almost feels there’s a stranger controlling my body who is infinitely more confident than I could ever hope to be.”

Thunderlane peeks up at Fleetfoot, who looks oddly attentive and interested.

“But when I’m alone with somepony I feel like I don’t know how to do anything except make a jackass out of myself.”

“Do you feel like a jackass right now?”

“Not really…” Fleetfoot nudges him with her eyes again.

“I feel…”

“Copasetic?” Fleetfoot offers.

“Yeah I guess,” he frowns. “You’re like the first pony I’ve been alone with in a while that isn’t making me feel nauseous.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” She smiles down at him in a way that puts him somewhat more at ease, but its an ease that is quickly devoured by the incessant heaviness set in his gut. He swallows thickly around the knot in his throat.

“She wants to go out with me.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Can you imagine how that makes me feel?”

“Sick?” Thunderlane nods.

“So just tell her no.”

“I tried already. She just keeps asking, she won’t take no for an answer.”

“Wow, she must really have it bad for you, huh?”

“Seems that way.”

“What’re you gonna do about it.” Thunderlane snags his lower lip in between his teeth and breathes a harsh breath through his nose.

“I have no idea.”

“Want me to talk to her?”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I think I’ll just stick to avoiding her for now.” Fleetfoot shoots him a cross look.

“No; forgive me if I sound like one of those cheesy novels but I’m not about to let you run away from this. Even if you don’t want to be with her you have to let her know, you can’t just keep avoiding her, I don’t care how scared you are.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” Thuderlane’s ears flatten against his head and his pupils retreat to the bottoms of his eyes.

“Intimacy scares me. The whole prospect of being alone with somepony and having to share things that you would otherwise keep to yourself is a one of my biggest fears I didn’t even know I had.” Fleetfoot snorts loudly.

“That’s the whole point Thunderlane. You’re supposed to share all of those kinds of things with your special somepony because you trust that pony. It’s part of the give and take dude.”

“But what if I don’t feel comfortable sharing those kinds of things?”

“Nopony’s saying you have to spill your guts right away; these kinds of things take time to and patience.” Thunderlane’s chest rises and falls with a heavy breath.

“I just don’t know if I want to be involved in something like that right now. Heck, maybe not ever.”

“You wouldn’t even be willing to try?” Thunderlane chews his bottom lip, his eyes like ping pong balls in their sockets.

“I don’t know…”

“Not even for her?” There is a moment of silent stillness wherein all that can be heard is the subtle creaking of the bed as Fleetfoot shifts her weight anxiously. Thunderlane’s shoulders lose their tension and sag, the breath he lets out tickling the fur underneath Fleetfoot’s chin.

“Fine,” Fleetfoot cracks a grin almost too wide for Thunderlane to believe before nuzzling him affectionately.

“You’re gonna make her so happy,” Fleetfoot says as he jumps down from the bed and makes her way toward the door. “Hopefully she can do the same for you.”

“Yeah,” Thunderlane says dumbly as he watches her disappear through the threshold and shut the door. “Let’s hope so…”