“Maybe this is some freaky coincidence.” Hoity Toity mumbled under his breath.
“No, I don’t believe that is the case,” Fancy Pants sighed and rested his face onto his hoof. He gazed out past his dining room table and into the light of Celestia’s morning sun. Just moments ago he had been wondering he he should simply eat egg whites or be daring and commit to a few slices of hay bacon strips. But no, here he was in his dining room with an unsettling tightness in his chest along with a poisonous taste on his tongue. A once intoxicating scent of coffee still lingered in the air, though he knew that perhaps it was a bit too bitter to truly enjoy right now. “Exactly how many places did you visit before you finally found a copy of this?”
Fancy Pants let his horn glow before he grabbed ahold of the newspaper on the table with his magical grasp. He held it before Hoity Toity’s eyes, though the pony glanced away and bit gently on his lips. Under his dark purple sunglasses Fancy could see that his eyes truly refused to meet his own. Fancy Pants twisted his mouth, wondering just how easily he was able to get across his growing frustration in his maroon robe and untidied mane.
“Three,” Hoity Toity spit out at last when Fancy Pants narrowed his eyes. “It’s just a popular news day, I think. I mean who doesn’t want a good morning paper on a… uh… tuesday…” Hoity Toity put his hoof to his lip and frowned. “But don’t worry darling, it’s going to be alright. I’ve had much worse printed about me.”
“Don’t I know it,” Fancy Pants rolled his eyes and finally stood up from the cushion on the floor. He rubbed at his eye trying to force the sensation of exhaustion out of his system. “Did you come barging in here at the crack of dawn just to show me this? I thought you were with that…” Fancy Pants waved his hoof as if trying to grasp the name. “What did you call him? Hunk?”
“Let’s not discuss my sexual life and how unbelievably unsatisfying a stallion of his size and mass turned out to be, shall we?” Hoity Toity shook his head and looked away. He covered his cheek as if he were hiding a blush, though by the way he kept looking to Fancy Pants under those purple shades the older stallion got the distinct feeling that he thrived on being questioned further. Fancy Pants chose to ignore his curiosity and simply roll his eyes. “Let us instead discuss how…”
Hoity Toity reached up his hoof and snatched away the newspaper from Fancy Pants’ grasp and despite the older unicorn’s best attempts he was unable to keep it steady. Hoity, without missing a single beat, opened up to the third page and lifted the paper in the air. “Ah-ha! I knew it!”
“You already saw it!” Fancy Pants nearly growled, letting his emotions get the best of him for just a moment. He didn’t need much more than a look at the large printed picture under the words “GOSSIP CORNER” in an overly large glamorified style of font, to see the picture that had spoiled his plans for a pleasant morning. Both him and Prince Blueblood were on the picture, though the fact that Fancy Pants was atop Prince Blueblood with a hoof grasping half of his unbuttoned shirt and lips pressed to his chest in the midst of weeds and grass under the shade of a tree spoiled any kind of warmth Fancy Pants usually felt upon the sight of Blueblood. The worst part however, was simply the large red… ball… in Prince Blueblood’s mouth.
“Oh I know,” Hoity Toity sang and took a step away from Fancy Pants to avoid his snatching hoof and still stare at the picture. “How ever did you convince your little ‘Sweetheart’ to lay in such a dirty spot for you to fondle him? And do you just happen to keep a gag on you at all times? So many missed opportunities those nights we used to get drunk in our prime, dirty old man.”
“Not now, Hoity.” Fancy Pants felt heat hit his cheeks, but more importantly his horn. He was tired of this pointless dancing around the dining table. He grabbed Hoity’s tail, tightly, and pulled on it with nearly all of his magical might. With nothing more than a painfully girlish yelp from the gossiping stallion the earth pony was pulled back several feet, forced to let go of the newspaper simply not to stumble and lose his footing on Fancy’s tiled floor. Fancy snatched up the paper with ease and instantly crumbled it up. If he was any less sound of mind he would have shoved it in his mouth in an attempt to dispose the evidence.
“You are not a very GENTLE STALLION!” Hoity Toity stomped his hoof against the ground and began rubbing the base of his tail. Fancy Pants ignored his frustration and simply pressed the crumbled paper to his forehead and fell to sit on the floor.
“This is a mess,” He mumbled, shaking his head back and forth. He hit his hoof to his head once, twice, three times, mumbling “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” Again and again.
“Honestly, like I said, I’ve had much worse published about me in the paper.” Hoity Toity sighed and shook his head. He seemed to get over the pain rather quickly once he realized that Fancy Pants wasn’t paying any attention to him. “Honestly I can’t believe you’re getting this worked up about it. How many times have you two been in the paper this year alone?”
“I’m not worried about me, Hoity,” Fancy Pants shook his head and slowly got to his hooves. He paced the kitchen slowly and held up the crumbled paper before his eyes with his magic. When he got to a garbage bin he let it fall slowly, careful not to let his current emotions get the best of him with unneeded violence to his appliances. He stared into the trash for a moment before taking in a slow, deep breath. “You don’t give me enough credit, you know. I have thicker skin than you about this stuff.”
“I’m aware,” Hoity Toity frowned and peered to Fancy by lowering his glasses. “You walk around in a maroon robe every morning? I’d get thick skin real fast too if I did that.”
“Thank you, Hoity,” Fancy Pants chuckled. Though he meant it to sound sarcastic, when it came out he couldn’t help but laugh. He placed a hoof to his forehead and felt sweat begin to gather. His mane was nothing short of a disastrous frizzled mess.
“I’m just glad the birthday-boy got more action than me, at the very least,” Hoity Toity smirked at Fancy Pants. He was already at Fancy Pants’ counter and pouring himself a fresh mug of coffee. Fancy Pants couldn’t help but notice under all his annoyance that he was using his favorite mug, a white one with cat whispers painted on one of the sides. “How was the three weeks of having a eleven year age difference? Did you feel like slightly less of a ginormous perv?”
“I felt young and energized like never before, thank you,” Fancy Pants rolled his eyes and walked back to the table to seat himself down and begin rubbing at his temples. “Would you pour me a glass too, Hoity?”
“Are you positive you don’t want a glass of wine?” Hoity Toity chuckled, though Fancy could hear the cupboard open behind him.
“At this hour?” Fancy giggled in reply but still shook his head. “I’d kill for one, actually. But no, I’m apparently making an unexpected visit on my day off to make sure my boyfriend hasn’t wasted half the kingdom’s money on newspapers.”
“Oh come now, he’s only done that… twice…” Hoity Toity put his hoof to his lips again in thought. “Well it is early. Good day for the kingdom to have a bonfire I suppose. Want me to go round up about fifty of them?”
“That’s not very funny.” Fancy Pants watched a mug of coffee be set down before him. He snatched up up with little hesitation and gulped down three swallows. It was unbelievably bitter on his tongue, as he expected. Regardless, he managed to drink half the mug without taking a breath.
Hoity sipped at his mug slowly and stared over the table at Fancy Pants once he took his seat. The two met eyes for a moment and remained in silence, but it was Hoity who began coughing in his hoof as if waiting for Fancy to continue.
“Do you have something to s-”
“So, ballgags?” Hoity Toity raised his brow. Fancy Pants rubbed his temple in reponse and sighed.
“We are not having this discussion. Not now or ever.” Fancy Pants got up from his seat and turned away from Hoity Toity before gulping down the rest of his coffee. He walked to the sink and began to rinse out the cup, hoping the subject would drop faster than he could finish. Unfortunately, he was speaking to Hoity Toity.
“Oh, come now, Fancy,” Hoity Toity nearly bounced off of his cushion to Fancy Pants’ side. He placed a hoof delicatly on Fancy’s shoulder and attempted to lean forward and look deeply into his eyes by lowering his shades. “I have a million little dirty secrets to spill if you let me know.”
“Is there a single pony in your little circle who doesn’t know at least half of those dirty million secrets?” Fancy Pants asked with a shake of his head. He lifted a dish towel with his magic and began to dry off his mug and turn once again away from Hoity Toity. “I don’t intend to share why Blueblood may or may not have been wearing a ballgag last night!”
“Do you know why I had a bite mark bruise on my hind leg for a month last year?” Hoity Toity questioned with a sense of lingering tease on the end of his words.
“A royal guard had a hoof fetish and you wouldn’t stop talking about taste and he got hungry,” Fancy Pants replied without missing a beat. “No cigar, Hoity.”
“Damn,” Hoity Toity growled. “You never let me have any fun.”
“Blueblood is your friend too now, Hoity. Honestly I don’t see why you’re so intent on embarrassing him. He’s not like me, he doesn’t handle it well.” Fancy Pants looked over his shoulder to throw Hoity Toity a bit of a glare. “I can safely assure you I put up much better front about this sort of business in front of him. If I were to get upset as I am now I don’t know what the stress would do to him.”
“I’m just saying I’m very invested in the ever-growing relationship of two of my dear friends,” Hoity Toity chuckled and shook his head back and forth. “I’ve heard some rumors from the guards that the walls of the castle are haunted when you visit, is that true?”
“Have I mentioned how horrible I think your habit of sleeping with guards is, Hoity?” Fancy Pants shook his head and felt his horn glow with warmth once more. He removed his maroon robe slowly and walked to the window to stare out into the streets of Canterlot. “Look, Hoity, I share a lot of information with you… and apparently all of Canterlot… but some things are simply private.”
“Er… I believe you mean all of Equestria,” Hoity Toity spoke up, for the first time a bit of hesitation in his tone. “I’m afraid you’ve made it to the big leagues, darling. Sorry to say it.”
“Excuse me?” Fancy Pants felt his mane whip when his head did so. Hoity Toity tried seemed to shrink and step aside with speed unknown to ponies when Fancy came charging back through the kitchen to the garbage bin and ripped it open. He pulled out the newspaper and began uncrumpling it with his magic. The title wasn’t “Canterlot Locals”, not by a long shot. It was “Equestria Worldly.”
“Er…If it helps, I’m a bit jealous of you.” Hoity Toity chuckled, though it was forced and horribly awkward. A silence followed and hung in the air, both stallions too afraid to move much less speak. After what felt like an eternity
“Oh dear.”
“Well it’s not a very appealing shot, I’ll give them that,” Shining Armor mumbled.
Prince Blueblood could only focus on three things. The fact that apparently humiliating him was not front page news according to the newspaper Shining Armor read, the loud, sharp whistle of tea boiling over fire in the background, and the idea that Shining Armor was critiquing his borderline, public porn.
“Stop staring at it!” Prince Blueblood barked, venom spewing from his words when he stamped his hoof onto the checkerboard pattern floor.
“Dear, I think Blueblood has been embarrassed enough for one day. I don’t think he needs his best friend staring at Fancy Pants… enjoying him...” Cadence sighed loudly and wiped her brow with a cloth held by her magic. The whistling of the tea kettle ceased when Cadence lifted it from the burner. Even in the confinement in this tiny overly pink room he was still able to stare out the towering window beside the poster bed to his left and bite at his lip, wondering just how many ponies were now staring at… well, him. The ability to stare out at what sometimes felt like the entire world made him a bit dizzy to the point he had to sit down on the spot and cover his face with his hooves, a flush overtaking him.
“Why in Equestria would you phrase it like that?” Blueblood shook his head and let out an audible groan, once again stamping his hoof to the floor. Frustration was overtaking him faster than he could process. “Look is there anybody I can legally deport from Canterlot or am I just wasting my precious time here?”
“S-Sorry, Blue,” Shining Armor folded the newspaper quickly and avoided Blueblood’s gaze. His cheeks were obviously pink, painfully so. “Press is press… Hehe, there was a picture of Cadence and I last summer that had me wearing this pink bu-”
“Tea’s ready!” Princess Cadence spoke up. Shining Armor seemed to freeze, cheeks growing pinker when realization hit him on what he almost said. “Shining likes blueberry annnnd, Blue likes honey and milk with his!”
“I’m on a diet, actually,” Blueblood grumbled. He wanted his stare to penetrate the great kingdom of Canterlot and shred it to a million pieces. He heard Cadence walk over to him and saw her face penetrate his vision, a gentle smile on her face.
“I think you deserve it, Sweetie,” She nodded her head and reached down her hoof to touch his. She squeezed gently before pulling on it and encouraging him to his hooves. Blueblood felt numb, but he obliged her request and sulked to the table where a mug meant for him awaited. “Come sit with us and we’ll talk about it.”
“Must we?” Blueblood whined the response out. It seemed to take effort and strength beyond his belief simply to ask that simple question. He slumped down to the cushion and brought his tail around to cuddle it close to his chest. He wanted to curl up in a nice hot bed and hide underneath his blankets until the world forgot about him, but he supposed tea would have to suffice.
“So I’m guessing we can skip the question with how things are going with Fancy Pa-AH!” Shining Armor’s question was interrupted by a loud, audible stomp from Cadence onto his tail, which he quickly grabbed for and held close to his body to mirror Blueblood.
“Shh!” Cadence hissed, holding a hoof up to her lips. “No teasing! Honestly you’re just as thickheaded as when you were a teenager sometimes! At least hug him before saying that!”
“Please don’t,” Blueblood shook his head. “I think I’ve had enough of ponies staring at me be touched by another stallion for one day.”
“S-Sorry, Dear,” Shining’s ears fell against his head for a brief moment before he looked to Blueblood and smiled a silent apology.
Blueblood stared at the steam rise from his milky tea and bit down on his tongue. It was difficult to think straight, admittedly. How he ever let Fancy Pants lay him down somewhere so… dirty was beyond him. He let his hair become muddied by dirt and entangled in grass just for a few moments of pleasure. He thought for a moment, and deduced that it was no better than earth ponies on a farm who couldn’t wait to get inside to do their duty, so to speak.
“So,” Shining Armor was the first one who dared to break the silence. Cadence glared to him, and he tightened the hold on his tail. “I uh… I…” He brought his hoof to the back of his head and bit down on his lip before scratching at his mane. “Blue uh… how was the party?”
“Aside from Hoity, Fluer, and Fancy Pants it was horribly loud and full of ponies I didn’t know, if I can be so choleric,” Blueblood grumbled under his breath. “Which would have been just fine with me, if I wasn’t so horribly foolish in permitting Fancy Pants to drink past three glasses of wine and get tipsy and flirty with me in such a public setting and get me all riled up!”
Cadence seemed to sense that Blueblood was about to hit the table, for he watched all three glasses of tea rise the moment he did, only to be set back down when he hugged both arms together and let out a loud, annoyed whinny.
“Honestly that dirty old man could make me cluck like a chicken in public if he so wished. How could I have let him convince me to do something so degrading so close to that many hungry journalists?” Blueblood was breathing fast, clutching his chest even when he felt his eyes sting. “Oh dear Celestia my father would have my head.”
“Your father would have had your head the moment you told him you wanted to date a stallion, Blue,” Shining Armor shrugged his shoulders and took up his mug of tea, blowing at the brim to push away the steam before taking a sip. “Look don’t talk about him now, that only upsets you.”
“Oh, right, wouldn’t want to be upset now would we?” Blueblood shrugged and laughed an awfully dry laugh. He snatched up his tea and gulped at it with a trembling hoof. He ignored the burn on his tongue and drank it regardless, lowering it only when he needed to gasp for air. “I think I might have a heart attack.”
“You’re being over dramatic,” Shining Armor shook his head.
“Bite me,” Prince Blueblood growled. If he could have he would have stamped on Shining Armor’s tail himself.
“I think it’s a bit romantic,” Cadence giggled. Both Shining Armor and Blueblood looked to her, and she giggled again. She covered her mouth with her hoof and then cleared her throat before straightening her back. “Don’t you think so, Shiny? They’re still so passionate and in love after all this time! I know my first boyfriend didn’t last nearly as long as Blue’s, not nearly as enticing!”
“Please stop discussing my sex life,” Blueblood hit his head to the table near instantly and groaned again.
“Sorry,” Cadence giggled again. “But I’m glad you two are so happy! It makes my heart all bubbly and warm thinking about it!” She held her hooves to her chest and smiled at Blueblood. “How about you, Shining?”
“I saw my best friend wear a ball gag, Cady,” Shining Armor stated blankly. Cadence frowned at that finally and looked down to her hooves, her lips twisting into a frown. The more she thought about it the steadily less romantic it sounded. “I mean… they certainly seemed to be enjoying themselves, if that’s what you mean.”
“Please burn that image from your memories,” Blueblood sipped at the burning tea once more. Cadence was right, he very well did deserve the extra calories today of all days. He hit his hoof down to the table and snatched up the newspaper and held it to his chest. “In fact can we burn this, as well?”
“I highly doubt that’s going to stop anypony from seeing it, deary,” Cadence frowned and shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
There was a pause, and Blueblood tightened his muscles around the newspaper before biting his lip. He looked down to the checkerboard floor underneath him and took in a deep breath, trying to force his mind to calm down.
“Can we burn the sixty other papers in my room…?” He let that question sit in the air a moment before he dared to look at the other two. Cadence’s eyes were wide, and Shining Armor had his mouth open as if he struggled to come up with anything to say.
“Blue… how…” Shining Armor shook his head slowly. He placed his tea down and slowly lowered his face into his hooves. “How in Equestria did you buy sixty of them? It’s not even nine in the morning!”
“I was in the garden this morning and saw one be delivered,” Blueblood mumbled softly and sipped at his tea. “I… I happened to see a mail-pegasus fly in and picked up the paper when he was delivering mail to Celestia. H-He always comes to the castle first and when I saw the headline with me I…” He tightened the muscles in his arms and felt his eyes sting. Just how foolish was he being, he thought. “I-I’m sorry, he and his partner were very confused even after I paid for them… t-they’re in my room.”
“Oh, deary,” Cadence got up to her hooves and fluttered quickly over to Blueblood and pressed a hoof to his back before rubbing in circles. He began to swish his tail anxiously and bite harder on his lower lip. “You were blinded by emotions, that’s fine… an expensive fine, but fine!” Cadence reassured again and again until Blueblood was forced to nod his head in response. His next breath was shaky.
“It’s an Equestria paper… not a Canterlot. Meaning it’s going to go all around Equestria and there’s hardly a thing I can do to stop it,” Blueblood shook his head back and forth. Shining was frowning, looking down into his barely sipped tea and silent in his own thoughts. “It doesn’t matter if I buy sixty or six-hundred, everypony’s going to see it. At least when they claimed Fancy paid me to sleep with him they didn’t have photographic proof!”
Blueblood crumpled the paper in his hooves and tossed it aside. Shining glanced to it, but still didn’t say anything. He bit on the end of his hoof and took in a deep breath, listening to Blueblood let out an audible sniffle before attempting to muffle himself.
“Blue… hey… we don’t think any less of you, buddy,” Shining assured. He leaned forward over the table and smiled gently, reaching out his hoof to press to Blueblood’s shoulder for a brief moment.
“Oh please Shining, you and Cadence are the only ponies who should get it,” Blueblood snarled and growled the words, wondering if he could fight away his emotions with anger. “This could affect how everypony sees the castle, not just me. I-I’m the last of the pure royal bloodline and I’m just parading myself around like some kind of freak show! T-They’re going to make fun of my stupid animalistic desires and use it against Celestia for how she helped raise some s-slut!”
Blueblood could feel his breath begin to pant in long, ragged breaths. His attempt to mask his emotions with anger failed, his eyes stinging again. His mouth felt dry when he thought about it, his chest tightening and heart aching. Cadence’s hoof rubbing his back didn’t offer him the comfort he desired. He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek and closed his eyes, fearful his tears would show.
“Hey, Blue, don’t get like that,” Shining Armor got up from his seat and went to Blueblood’s side as well. Blueblood had the sudden urge to shrug off the hoof on his shoulder, but he fought it by tightening his muscles. “Fancy’s not gonna think that of you, right? People start rumors about Celestia and the royal family all the time. Most people are gonna think you’re… passionate, right?”
“I highly doubt it.” Blueblood shook his head and finally shrugged off the two ponies when he squirmed to get to his hooves. “The ones who do will be a very silent majority, I believe. The others will just spread hideous rumors and… I’m feeling dizzy…” He places a hoof onto his head and turned away from his friends.
“C’mon, Blue,” Shining Armor took another step forward. “We were gonna go out to lunch together, the three of us, remember?” He asked in a hopeful tone. “I know you love the fried egg salad that Iron Hoof has.”
“I believe under the current circumstances you’ll both forgive me if I choose to stay home and… look at my pile of sixty one newspapers…” Blueblood shook his head and looked back to the two. There faces ranged from concerned to understanding to… somewhere in between. “Or a bit more realistically take a hot bath and soak for a bit. I do believe I’ve sweat enough to make farm ponies jealous this morning. It’s doing awful for my mane.”
“We understand,” Cadence nodded her head. Shining Armor opened his mouth for a second, and then shut it. After several moments he nodded as well, though he wouldn’t meet his eyes with Blueblood’s for at least ten seconds.
Even after several deep breaths Blueblood felt his chest continue to grow tighter. He looked back to the table and swallowed a lump in his throat.
“Is there any more tea?” He questioned.
The carriage ride to the castle was… awkward, to say the least. From the moment he stepped into the carriage the brown earth pony gave him strange looks, opening his mouth several times and looking to him at every stop as if he was just dying to ask something. No matter how much Fancy Pants wanted to believe the question was why on earth he chose to wear only a dress shirt and bow-tie out of his house without even fixing his mane, he knew it wasn’t true.
He tried his best to pass the time by looking at his watch or staring at the scenery which had grown stagnant and dull the more time passed, but the trip was still agonizingly long. He saw a poor old stallion reading a newspaper at a turn right before a bridge, and wondered to himself if he had already seen the image.
Fancy Pants knew his suspicions were confirmed the moment he was at the gate of the castle and fiddled through a bag of bits for the right amount to pay the stallion. The poor young pony could barely keep himself from squirming in place he fought so hard to avoid looking at the stallion. It was only when Fancy Pants counted out ten bits and put them all in the pony’s bag did the stallion feel brave enough to ask any questions.
“You’re the pony who…”
Needless to say, the stallion didn’t get a tip. Fancy Pants of course replied with a rather convincing “No” to the question he was given, but he still felt a chill go down his spin when he wondered just how many times he would face that question in the upcoming week. If his birthday party wasn’t a good enough reminder to his creep closer to middle age the fact that this kind of publicity was beginning to bother him was a sure sign.
Perhaps ten years ago when he was still a young stallion he would have relished the idea of seducing a prince and having photographical evidence engrained on a few thousand newspapers, if not a million, but more recently he had picked up this little habit that had done him wonders over the years that he liked to call “Caring for those you love.”. What was important was not how he managed to handle his feelings right now, but how well the other victim in the photo did.
“Oh dear,” He found himself commenting halfway across the drawbridge to the castle. He was checking his watch when he realized just how early it was, and he was already exhausted. He had walked this path a million times, usually for much more enticing reasons than this, but this time it felt much longer. When his hooves hit grass he ignored the gaze of each and every royal guard. It never ceased to amaze him just how casually he could stroll through the castle without even the accompaniment of a guard in recent months. Many guard knew his name, some nodding to him and others even trying to strike small conversations. But today Fancy Pants didn’t feel very… chatty…
The morning dew of the grass clung to his hooves when he passed through the garden and to the entranceway that led to the quickest route to Blueblood’s room. While still ignoring the look of any and all pony around him he trotted into the castle, not bothering to wipe his hooves on the bright red rug beneath him. Pink walls and purple flowers greeted him along with windows tall enough to make walls out of. Craftsman ship that would normally entice his senses and inspire him in the aspects of the castle seemed dulled today, soured even.
During his walk he rolled the concept around in his mind, the concept that everypony in Equestria, at best a good percentage, would have clear visual images of some of both stallion’s most intimate moment burned into their brains the moment they wanted to check their horoscopes. The thought was unsettling and made Fancy Pants grumble. He had to get the feelings out of his system, he thought. If anypony needed him to be happy and positive right now, it was Blueblood.
The closer he drew himself to Blueblood’s room and the more guards he passed the louder Fancy Pants felt his heart beat. He pressed his hoof down to his heart and felt in the pocket of his coat a key. He slipped it out slowly with his magic pulled it from his pocket. Five more stairs and he was standing in the tallest section of the tower, more accurately known as Blueblood’s home.
Not a single door was in the hallway except Blueblood’s own. The outstretch of red carpet that Fancy trotted down quickly without being stopped was an all too apparently reminder of the fact that not a single guard was standing outside of Blueblood’s door. A good sign for privacy, but a bad one considering Blueblood would have had to order them away.
“Shoot,” Fancy Pants mumbled. He took the key from his magical grasp and held it in his hoof. The key to Blueblood’s room… the first gift Blueblood had ever given to him. He held it tightly in his hoof and pressed it briefly to his lips. When he got to the door it seemed to simply stand as a wall, it’s intricate markings and designs flawless. He pressed his hoof to it, and knocked three times.
“Sweetheart?” He called. There was no response.
There was a time where Blueblood insisted that he come in without hesitation, that Blueblood would never not want to see him. Still, it seemed a bit rude to just barge into a locked room. And locked it was, Fancy forced to press his ear to the door and listen closely for sounds of life. He heard nothing. He sighed and slipped the key into the lock, turning it slowly before pushing the door open.
The first thing he noticed was not the large poster bed or drawn curtains that stood two stories above his head on the opposite end of the room, no it was the three stacks of newspapers standing right in front of the doorway before him. The floor turned to purple tiles and Fancy Pants let himself in. It was awfully dark. He had to squint past his monocle just to see properly, the only light coming from a door beside the large bed bigger than a king’s. The door was wide open, and Fancy Pants realized that he could hear water running.
Fancy Pants closed the door behind him gently. The last thing he wanted to do was scare Blueblood. By the signs of the papers he purchased, he must already be on edge. Fancy Pants fought his frown, trying to force himself to give even the smallest smile.
“Sweetheart?” He called hesitantly while he trotted towards the light. “Blueblood?” He called again. When he listened closely he could hear the sound of water shifting, and then a sudden stop as if one of the pipes in the walls had been cut off from flowing.
“Fancy Pants?” Blueblood questioned.
Fancy Pants felt his heart give a single beat. That was all he needed to smile, the sound of Blueblood calling his name. He picked up his speed and found himself in the doorway to the bathroom. He stared straight ahead at the impossibly large, snow white bathtub that was only half full. Blueblood stood up, water dripping from his legs and belly. Fancy looked to the floor and saw a bow-tie and dress shirt as well as a vest thrown about with little care.
“I see you stole my favorite part of being with you, Sweetheart. When I get to undress you.” He smiled and looked to Blueblood. Blueblood opened his mouth, and Fancy expected some sort of retort, a blush even. However, all Blueblood could manage was a simple.
“P-Please come here,” He nearly begged. The sound of his voice gave Fancy Pants a sudden aching pain deep in his chest. He didn’t hesitate to remove his monocle and pull at his bow-tie while he walked towards the tub. Past the jewel encrusted sink and over the fuzzy red carpet he was halfway out of his dress shirt when he took his first step into the tub.
Blueblood was patient, and perhaps that was what made Fancy feel the worst. He waited until Fancy had properly removed all of his clothing before even walking forward and hugging him. He showed no emotion in this time other than a bite of his lip. He didn’t bother going for the kiss, simply taking the moment to cling to Fancy. His weight was heavy, so Fancy sat down in the warm, shallow water with him. Blueblood didn’t have anything to say, he didn’t even whimper. He simply clung desperately to Fancy and tightened his hug further when Fancy lifted his own forelegs.
“Sorry I’m late,” Fancy Pants whispered into his ear. Blueblood buried his face in Fancy’s chest and clung tighter. Only then did he feel the slightest of a tremble from Blueblood, and only when Fancy thought he couldn’t squeeze any tighter did he pull himself away for just a moment. When he looked into Blueblood’s eyes he felt his breath stop in his throat. There in the shallow tub did he see Blueblood’s eyes, puffy and red.
“Fancy… I… I thought awful things about you,” He smiled, but it seemed to hurt him to do so. Fancy lifted a wet hoof and pushed aside his mane to press his lips gently to his lover’s cheek. “I called you a stupid dirty old man to Shining… I called you a horny ass, too. I can’t believe we did something like that.”
“You’re surprisingly accurate with your accusations,” Fancy Pants replied. He smirked and pressed his lips down to the end of Blueblood’s nose. It was wet, and not from bath water. “I’d blame you for making me a dirty old man if I wasn’t a bit more self aware, Sweetheart.”
“Y-Yeah, that,” Blueblood chuckled again. He pressed his lips to Fancy’s own briefly. He lowered his forelegs to wrap around Fancy’s chest and hold him tightly. “I questioned Shining if we could d-deport somepony.”
“Or throw them in the dungeon,” Fancy Pants smirked and touched his muzzle to Blueblood’s neck. “Barbaric, but fitting. But you know… you never did tell me Happy Birthday last night? I was a hurt before I remembered how muffled you were at the time.”
“I was a bit… muffled,” Blueblood mumbled. He paused for a moment, as did Fancy. Despite knowing it was coming, the older unicorn still yelped when his belly was pinched at. “You’re quite awful at making me feel better.”
“Oh I think I’m quite good at it!” Fancy Pants replied. In this moment he decided to sit up and push Blueblood to the other end of the tub so that he was now on top of the other stallion. “You know I hate to see my little boy-toy cry. Is that what they’re calling you these days?”
“Dear Celestia never call me that again.” Blueblood covered his face with both his hooves and groaned audibly. “Or I’ll call you a sugar daddy or something vile next time I see a reporter.”
“Some pretty big threats from a boy-toy.” Fancy pressed his lips down to Blueblood’s own. He could feel a giggle forcibly suppressed under Blueblood’s lips.
When they split there was a moment a silence, a moment where the two crouched in the shallow water and hesitated. The silence began to feel heavy, and so Fancy Pants took it upon himself to shatter it. The last thing he wanted was to be the direct cause of those puffy red eyes before him, but he knew it had to be brought up.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Fancy Pants asked, quietly. He pressed his hoof to Blueblood’s chest and felt water drip from it and down Blueblood’s chest. “I can’t imagine how you must feel, sweetheart. I’ve always had thick skin. I know you’re not used to this kind of stress from the media in the past year. Are you…?”
“Fancy can we,” Blueblood said while shaking his head, interrupting Fancy Pants. “Can we not talk about it right now… I feel much better since you got here. Please just… let’s forget about it for a bit. I-I know you’re worried but I just really want to be with you right now and not think about it.”
Fancy stroked his hoof down Blueblood’s cheek and nodded his head. With a kiss to his lover’s lips the deal was sealed, and with his magic he turned the knob to let more water run from the faucet into the tub.
“You do entice me a lot with your flowery field scent, Sweetheart,” Fancy Pants giggled. “I know it’s hard to resist me when I’m in the tub with you like this.”
“Oh, right, big tubby wet crude of a man makes my mouth water,” Blueblood poked at Fancy’s belly and Fancy in reply smirked devilishly. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“I love you too, Sweetheart,” Fancy Pants replied.
He could forget the articles for a bit, if only for the sake of Blueblood.
Blueblood was tense. At least, that’s what Fancy Pants thought when he pressed his hoof the prince’s chest. Even in such a large bed truly fit for a king Fancy Pants found it hard not to huddle close to Blueblood as if they were laying on no more than a twin bed. His muzzle was pressed against Blueblood’s bare chest, fluffed up like a lion mane and growing only more tangled and large when he ran his hoof up it. It was normally comforting, to bury himself in Blueblood’s chest and focus on the smell of roses that danced through his nose… but this morning the prince was tense. No matter how much he kissed or hugged his prince it seemed as though he had hit a wall.
“We were up far too late,” Blueblood mumbled. He had his hoof over his eyes and was staring out the small part of curtain on the opposite wall that he had left cracked, a stream of sunlight striking the otherwise shadowed room. “We missed breakfast. I know how much you enjoy using me to eat of my chef’s food.”
“Oh, so you figured it out?” Fancy Pants raised his eye and lifted his chin from Blueblood’s chest. Blueblood let his eyes show for but a second before covering them up again. “It’s true, I must confess, I love Buttercup’s honey muffins far more than your embrace. It’s a dark secret of mine, I must admit.”
“Do you love me more than lunch at least?” Blueblood chuckled, but somehow it seemed distant. Something about him was just… going through the motions. Even when Fancy Pants lowered his head to press his lips to Blueblood’s own it felt as though something else was on the Prince’s mind.
“I’ll think about it,” Fancy Pants answered. Even the pink velvet blankets that Fancy tugged closer to cover both of them did not compare to simply how soft the younger unicorn’s fur felt. He kissed at the base of Blueblood’s neck and was awarded with a giggle, though Fancy could feared it might be involuntary. “Are you alright, Sweetheart? You tossed and turned all night.”
“I’m fine.” Blueblood squirmed out from under Fancy Pants and sat up, rubbing his eyes with both hooves. “What time is it, anyway? The sun’s nearly on top the castle.”
“Oh, dear, let’s see,” Fancy Pants mumbled and crawled to the edge of the bed. He spotted his dress shirt at the edge of the open bathroom door. He felt heat gather in his horn and watched a single golden chain raise from the pocket, a watch floating towards him that he snatched out of the air. He clicked it open and read the time. “It’s nearly noon.”
“Well I do hope you didn’t have anywhere to be today,” Blueblood chuckled, it sounded a bit more genuine this time. “Otherwise you have nopony to blame but yourself. It’s not my fault you’re so tedious and slow with every action you make in this bed.”
“Oh but it is your fault for whining, Sweetheart,” Fancy Pants threw Blueblood a look that made the prince glance away and cover his cheek with his hoof. “And don’t worry, all my affairs lately with business have been through letters. Manehattan ponies take ages to respond to the simplest of questions. Honestly the way a mare seals her lips about her size to the one crafting her dress never ceases to amaze me.”
“As much as I would adore to hear the details of your work, I look a mess,” Blueblood sighed and slapped his hooves lightly against his cheeks a few times in an attempt to wake himself up. “Do me a favor and tell me why exactly you can stand to see me before I’ve so much as untangled my mane?”
“Because I know I’m one of the only ponies you allow to see like that, Sweetheart,” Fancy Pants laid back down at the bed and observed the shape of Blueblood’s figure when he rose from the bed. Blueblood didn’t respond, and just rolled his eyes. Simply staring at Blueblood walk slowly around the bed and to the bathroom made Fancy’s heart fill with a sense of warmth that he had grown to call his own as of late.
Blueblood pushed aside Fancy’s shirt with a sense of dainty precision that showed he was reluctant to touch it, choosing to clear a path instead of simply picking it up. It was Fancy’s turn to roll his eyes, sitting up in the bed and daring to touch the cold purple tiles of the floor that sent a shiver up his spine.
Lack of sunlight really did more harm than good to a room as massive as this. He opened the curtain with his magic on the far side of a room just a crack to give a bit more light, nothing else in the room but a large closet and a vanity tucked away in the corner. The only thing that seemed out of place was the three piles of newspapers by the door, which tugged at Fancy’s smile and pulled it momentarily into a frown.
“I saw, Blueblood, did you plan to start a bonfire or adopt several dozen puppies and housetrain them?” He questioned. Perhaps his attempt to make a joke of the matter was the wrong call when he approached the bathroom. When he leaned down to retrieve his shirt he saw Blueblood standing at the sink with his hooves in the water, his expression numb but lips sunk in a frown.
“It was a knee-jerk reaction,” Blueblood grumbled and placed his wet hoof to his eye, water dribbling down his face. “I’ve heard the lecture before, Fancy, spending money so pointlessly is frivolous at best, even in a position of royalty.” He shook his head slowly and bit briefly at his lip before splashing a bit of water in his face.
“I know, darling,” Fancy lifted his shirt with his magic and began to slip it on slowly. He eyed Blueblood with his bad eye and watched him grow clear when positioned his monocle. “But I hate to say this, I don’t think we’ve known a private life for most of our lives. Plenty of my romances have been far from a private affair. I once dated a mare who I swear it turned her on more to know that she was with a celebrity and everypony knew it.”
“I don’t need details,” Blueblood grumbled and shook his head again. He shut off the water but simply stared straight ahead at the mirror. “Look, can we not discuss this? I want to…”
There was a pause where Blueblood’s hoof trembled on the edge of the sink. He looked as though he were struggling to come up with anything to say. Fancy didn’t push him, but took a step forward. What hurt him most wasn’t the fact that Blueblood was visibly upset with him, but the fact that he took a step away. Fancy reached out his hoof, desire to place it on Blueblood and comfort him near overwhelming him, but somehow he resisted and set it back to the floor.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry I teased you. You’re right, it was a knee-jerk reaction.” Fancy mumbled and looked to the mirror. If anything he looked like more of a mess than Blueblood did, his mane ruffled and eyes baggy. It was safe to say getting clean was not the focus of yesterday’s bath. “But this is just the way things are for ponies like us. If anything it helps if you learn to take it in stride.”
There it was again, that tenseness that Fancy had felt before. It was near visible the way Blueblood’s muscles tightened and his breath caught in his throat. He shook his head again and turned away from Fancy.
“Fancy I’m not… like you,” Blueblood mumbled. He looked down to his hooves before sitting down slowly and hugging himself tightly. “I don’t own a fashion business like you do, p-ponies don’t adore me like they do you. They see you as kind and gentle and just me as your… fashion accessory…”
“Sweetheart, they do-”
“They do,” Blueblood’s tone was firm. His muscles tightened more when Fancy dared to lay a hoof on his back, and he even trembled when the older unicorn rubbed in circles. “They don’t… Ponies still don’t know how to think of me. For my whole like I was just my father’s puppet and did what he wanted and tried to be what he wanted me to be. I’m only good at looking my best and trying not to devalue the name of the throne more than I already have.”
“Blueblood, I highly doubt that you alone could devalue the throne,” Fancy Pants stepped closer to Blueblood and laid both hooves on his back. The prince still didn’t turn to look at him and instead stared at the patterns on the pink tiles. “My business has never been hurt by stories like this, in fact I dare say it’s improved. Ponies in Canterlot eat it up if one of us dares step into the realm of… naughtiness.” The word tasted strange on his tongue, but he stuck to it.
“Ponies still don’t know what to make of me, though,” Blueblood brought the end of his hoof to his teeth and bit on it briefly. “The way they look at me is different now, like I’ve been caught in some big lie. I feel as though they always talk behind my back and view me as nothing more than some toy of yours.”
Blueblood ran a hoof through his mane. “Fancy… they don’t call you the things they call me.”
“I…” Fancy Pants tried to grasp for words, yet none came to his mind. He could feel Blueblood’s tail swish back and forth near his hooves impatiently, his body trembling again as if irritation was rising in him quickly. “I wasn’t always regarded as this, Blueblood. Believe it or not I’ve done things that when you were far younger your father wouldn’t dare let you read about.”
“I can hardly tell if you’re joking with me,” Blueblood mumbled and for the first time let Fancy see directly into his eyes. “Though I can imagine.”
“Well…” Fancy Pants sat down gingerly onto the floor and ran his hoof from Blueblood’s back to his foreleg and tugged on it gently. “When I was young when I first got into fashion. I didn’t grow up in Canterlot, you see. I worked mostly outside of my mother’s fabric shop. She didn’t create dresses, no, but she sold them to ponies who did. I delivered them until I was in my late teens and always asked how they managed to turn a few strips of pink and black into a beautiful creation.”
“This story doesn’t involve much slander, yet,” Blueblood commented. Fancy Pants saw it, a smile, it was brief and nearly between Fancy’s blinking, but it was there.
“I’m getting there,” Fancy Pants jabbed his hoof lightly into Blueblood’s side and tugged him closer until their bodies pressed together. He pushed his back against the cabinet and let Blueblood turn his body to pay closer attention. He lowered both his hooves to Fancy’s own and held tightly. “But I did manage to save enough money to go to Canterlot. My parents didn’t like the idea of me pursuing fashion as my career, claiming it was far too unstable. My cutie mark was vague enough, so it was easy to convince them I meant to keep it as nothing more but a hobby.” Fancy nodded to his flank at the three crowns. “Mother wanted to expand her business, so I offered the outskirts of Canterlot. The ponies more wealthy than the common folk but not quite rich enough to live near the castle as I do.”
Blueblood nodded his head. He seemed more interested in the story than his own self pity. “Shining lived there before Princess Twilight became Celestia’s student.”
“Right,” Fancy Pants smiled at Blueblood. “Well, I wasn’t just going to give up on my dream like that. Expanding the cloth business to Canterlot helped keep me afloat, but my name wasn’t quite out there yet. I created dresses in my spare time and even managed to sell a few. However, I was also young and… well I… Y’know.” He removed his hoof from Blueblood’s own to scratch behind his head. Blueblood threw him a questioning gaze.
“No, I do not know, Fancy,” Blueblood raised his eyebrow. “What exactly did you do?”
“Well, there was this… bar, near the store. No more than three blocks down. It was more of a club, really. And in this club stallions well… they were on stage and very… extravagant about their bodies.” Fancy spoke slow, finding it incredibly difficult to speak the words accurately.
“You frequented a stallion strip club?” Blueblood questioned. There was little emotion in his tone, not even disbelief. Perhaps the deepest blow was the fact that he hardly seemed surprised. It was Fancy’s turn to feel his cheeks grow warm when he coughed into his hoof.
“A bit,” Fancy admitted, a dry chuckle at the end of his words.
“Oh. Okay then.” Blueblood nodded his head slowly. “You truly to have the animalistic needs of an animal in heat, you know this?”
“Yes, Sweetheart,” Fancy shook his head quickly and resumed his story. “A-Anyway I grew friendly with the owner, and eventual-”
“You went enough to get friendly with the owner?” Blueblood raised his brow.
“Shh!” Fancy Pants hushed Blueblood. “Regardless of how often I went, I got to know them and consider them a friend after a while. I told them about my buisness and my side project and… she was nice enough to allow me to host a bit of a fashion show. Even if the stallions on stage were over sexual they still had enough experience to be proper models.”
“Fancy, you honestly could not have taken up that offer,” Blueblood placed his face into his hoof.
“Oh, I did.” Fancy Pants shrugged. “It was about as large of a disaster as you could expect. About a dozen tabloids called me a disgrace to fashion as a whole and nothing but a mockery… It’s not a smart idea to host a fashion show on the same stage two stallions sat atop each other doing things very… similar to what we did last night, to say the least. I honestly just wanted to attempt to get my name out there, and in a way I suppose it worked.”
“If you’re trying to cheer me up through embarassing yourself I think it may be working,” Blueblood shuddered and his muscles tightened. “I get it, you were embarrassed too. L-Let’s not compare embarrassing press anymore, please.”
“That’s just it.” Fancy Pants raised his hoof and let on a devilish smirk. “You see, Blueblood, all it takes is one pony in the right place to believe in you and you can salvage your name. And a single journalist who happened to work at Canterlot’s biggest fashion magazine thought my show was a work of art.”
“Art?” Blueblood asked disbelievingly.
“I was just as shocked as you, believe me,” Fancy Pants laughed. “Her name was Bristle Quill, and she was the only one to convince me to interview. I was so embarrassed about the backlash I planned to let her have it… When she started asking me about my artist meaning I made up every other sentence. Did you know it’s incredibly easy to convince the public that your message was the over sexualization of ponies in the industry?”
“I can’t imagine it’s easy to convince the public the sky is blue, some days,” Prince Blueblood mumbled. He released Fancy’s other hoof and rubbed his own together. “Were you ever not disgustingly dirty?”
“When I was five, and then I caught a glimpse of my best friend’s mother and her curves.” Fancy shrugged his shoulders. Blueblood chuckled, it seemed involuntary by the way he instantly tried to cover his mouth with his hoof. Blue laughing filled his heart once more, this time with warmth. “You don’t have curves like hers, but I prefer muscles.”
“Oh shut up!” Blueblood hit his hoof to Fancy’s foreleg. He seemed to bit on the inside of his cheek just to keep his mouth shut from laughing further. Fancy smiled, and craned out his neck to press his lips to his cheek.
“All I’m saying, Sweetheart, is that all it takes is one pony to believe in you. I know that they talk about you much less… favorably than me, but I was once where you were. It took years for people to forget about that little incident.” Fancy Pants grasped Blueblood’s hoof and rose to his hooves. “If we’re going to sit and be sorry for ourselves I’d rather it be your bed over a bathroom floor. My back is killing me already.”
“You’re old,” Blueblood chuckled.
“I know,” Fancy Pants replied.
“But you,” Blueblood began when he rose up to his hoof as well. He stared into Fancy’s eyes for a moment and then reached out his neck to kiss him. His lips were soft, much softer than Fancy’s own. “You are at least a voice of reason.”
“I can’t… stop the public from hurting you, like this,” Fancy Pants walked slowly and pulled on Blueblood’s hoof until they were out of the bathroom. He stopped at the crack of sunlight from the balcony and smiled back at Blueblood. “But I want you to know I’d never think of you so poorly… Their opinions of you will change eventually, they just eat up what they think will give them attention. Why don’t we do something today? Something outside of the castle?”
“F-Fancy, I…”
“They won’t do anything that I won’t be there to help with,” Fancy pulled on Blueblood’s hoof until the other was close to his body. Blueblood looked away, but Fancy took it as an excuse to kiss his cheek once more. “It’s not good to hide yourself away every time you feel as though ponies will judge you. Remember what I told you at my birthday last year?”
“When… When I was your rose?” Blueblood looked to Fancy and stared at him with those piercing blue eyes.
“Right, when you were my rose,” Fancy Pants grinned when he replied. “You still are. You told me that no matter what we would laugh it off together because none of it mattered. And right now I want to treat my boyfriend to a wonderful lunch and not care about what ponies think. We can come back here and burn the papers if you want but for now let’s just try to move on.”
Blueblood was silent for a few moments, but in the end after staring out at the balcony and then back to Fancy he nodded his head. The world seemed empty for just a moment, the two standing together. Fancy smiled, and it seemed to infect Blueblood’s lips as well.
“I’ll get dressed,” Blueblood said, and pulled away from his lover.
The smell of Prince Blueblood’s neck gave a pleasant aroma of nightlife fun and romantic, lustful thoughts to Fancy Pants. Of course these abnormal thoughts were more than likely fueled entirely by his decision to stay firmly at borderline drunk and very tipsy as the two ponies rode along the streets of Canterlot. A wine bottle was in his magical grasp hovering in front of the two that Blueblood insisted every time he took a drink was a horrible decision that made them look like bums who might as well beg on the street.
“You smell of posies,” Fancy Pants giggled. He had cornered Blueblood against the side of the carriage, pushing his body against the prince’s so that Blueblood was forced to sit there and endure the intense cuddling and neck prodding with a ticklish, mustached upper lip that Fancy possessed. If the older unicorn was in a much sounder state of mind he might have resisted the urge to unbutton the top three buttons of both his and Blueblood’s dress shirts until they had at least gotten inside of his home, but right now Blueblood smelled far too… intoxicating. He wanted a taste.
“GAH!” Blueblood shouted.
“What?” Fancy inquired, as if he hadn’t just stuck out his tongue and licked the underside of Blueblood’s chin.
“D-Did you really just lick me?” Blueblood sputtered out a shocked half-giggle half-irritated cry before shoving his leg against Fancy Pants’ body in a failed attempt to get his new conjoined partner to remove his body. “That’s unsavory! N-Not to mention probably very unhygienic. Honestly how you managed to remain atop the totem pole of social class I haven’t the faintest idea!”
“You shout a lot,” Fancy Pants giggled. Again, he was in a state of mind where he was making irrational decisions. If Blueblood was willing to drink more he might have not tried to hide the way he was blushing at the kiss he received on his neck and wouldn’t have tried to sheepishly suppress his giggle. “I behaved myself at dinner. Would it be far too corny to make a joke about you being my desert?”
“You made several remarks about taking that ‘Big hunk of a meal to go’ home. I hardly call that behaving.” Blueblood grumbled and managed to calm down Fancy’s teasing hooves by actually holding him back and letting the stallion put most of his weight on him in a gentle, calm cuddle. “Of course I did respond with… what was it? Oh dear I might have been blushing too much to recall…”
“You said if I called you a hunk again feel free to give me the scraps of the table next to us,” Fancy giggled. “Much better than blushing and keeping silent, don’t you agree?”
“Shut up,” Blueblood grumbled and held Fancy just a bit tighter. The wind of the carriage whipped through their hair as Blueblood quietly grumbled about social class and rubbing his hoof up and down Fancy’s back and mane. He kissed Fancy right at the base of his horn and actually gave a chuckle when Fancy giggled.
Had it been any other night Fancy Pants might have contained himself more. He needed more than anything on tonight of all nights for Blueblood to feel loved. He had said it at least two dozen times and counting. When he feared he was coming on far too strong he took a sip of wine and fought away whatever crept in the back of his mind telling him he was being too uncouth. He kissed Blueblood more in public, holding his face in both hooves and whispering cheesy poetic words of affection that even he found hard to take seriously without cracking up in a fit of giggles that Blueblood found difficult not to join in. Even now, in the safety of the carriage as they bumped along through the night and stared up at the stars Fancy pants found his hoof rubbing in circles along Blueblood’s fluffy chest.
“You smell like cheap wine,” Blueblood muttered, though buried his face into Fancy’s mane and breathed in deeply. When Fancy tried to unbutton a fifth hoof from Blueblood’s shirt Blueblood instinctively grabbed Fancy’s hoof, but didn’t pull it away. He held it there momentarily and squeezed, but after a moment of hesitation he allowed Fancy to continue.
“Tell me you had fun,” Fancy said in a quiet, gentle kind of a tone that he wasn’t positive he had spoken in during the run of the night. He looked away from Blueblood for perhaps the first time in quite a while and stared at the trees and buildings pass by as the carriage road along the cobblestone path.
“I did,” Blueblood replied.
“Good,” Fancy chuckled.
He suddenly felt Blueblood squeeze him tighter. His hot breath fell from his mouth and warmed Fancy in what the otherwise chilly air blowing through his mane cooled him. It wasn’t his usual kind of a hug. Blueblood’s hugs felt desperate in a way that surprisingly rarely tired Fancy Pants out. Blueblood usually above all else seemed to attempt to leech comfort from Fancy through his hugs, but this one felt different. It didn’t feel desperate and tight, it felt soft and warm, as though it were meant for Fancy alone.
“Did… Did you?” Blueblood mumbled into his ear, and then gave it a gentle kiss. He rubbed his hooves up and down Fancy’s back. “Have fun, I mean?”
Fancy pulled himself from Blueblood’s hug and looked him briefly in the eye. Blueblood looked away momentarily, but after a moment where he squeezed his eyes he forced himself to look Fancy Pants in the eye once more as steadily as he could manage. He swallowed and he wasn’t sure why. Blueblood somehow looked taller in this moment. Steadier might have perhaps been the better word to use.
“Of course, Sweetheart,” He answered truthfully. He touched Blueblood’s chest, and then thought that might have been the wrong course of action when Blueblood’s lips gave a slight frown. He moved it from the chest to Blueblood’s own hoof and squeezed it tightly, and that seemed to satisfy the prince more.
“Okay,” Blueblood answered and twined his upper leg around Fancy’s own. “If I act sappy tonight please don’t hold it over my head… Alright? It’s… unbecoming and over emotional, I know. I was just thinking how… How I was actually happy despite how I felt this morning… I’m still not sure how you managed to turn that all around by yourself.”
Fancy thought for a moment that the prince might have gone in for a kiss or look away and blush or do anything that his usual self might have done when a confession like that was given. But he hugged Fancy again and actually used his strength to drag the pony forward a few inches and pull him up further into the hug. He buried his muzzle into Fancy’s neck and kissed it once, twice, three times. He squeezed tighter on Fancy’s body and the older unicorn couldn’t do anything but find himself hugging back.
“Thank you,” Blueblood whispered.
Fancy Pants let Blueblood cling to him in that hug for as long as he needed. And as it turned out, it was just about until their carriage ride had ended. The wind had stopped blowing through their manes and the once romantic and lustful setting suddenly felt much closer to tender and loving. He wanted to say something comforting or even joking to lighten the mood, but he feared that it might strike a blow to the prince if he did anything but hold onto him. He didn’t cry or laugh or do much of anything but breathe in and out and keep the unicorn close.
Blueblood released him silently when the carriage stopped in front of Fancy Pants’ house. He might have actually been content with that if Fancy didn’t take his face in both hands and give him a kiss to which Fancy took the upper hand.
“I’ll be waiting inside,” Blueblood whispered in a way that seemed far too inviting the moment they parted. He slipped out of the carriage slowly and walked before Fancy had even gathered his own jacket. Fancy was unable to catch up to him before he was at the door and searching for his own personal key, which Fancy had granted him many months prior. The older unicorn was stuck paying the carriage stallion and looking over his shoulder absent mindedly at the prince.
He paid a tip to the driver that was probably far too generous, but his mind was elsewhere. He was thanked, but he didn’t think to reply before turning away. He stood there silently watching the closed door to his own home and heard the carriage roll away before walking along the cobblestone path to the front.
When Fancy cracked open the door he saw that Blueblood had in fact turned on no lights when he had entered, and it was difficult to see. He saw a single light at the end of the opening hallway right before the opening to the stairwell where the kitchen lay, and followed it. He set down the bottle of wine on one of the lamp tables he passed and continued forward until he saw Blueblood standing in the kitchen with a half untied red bow-tie around his neck.
“You like to watch me undress, right?” Blueblood chuckled in a sort of teasing kind of a way in a tone that Fancy had rarely, if ever heard come from him. He actually waggled his rump a little as well as his tail in a manner that was unbefitting of his usual self.
“I like to undress you, actually,” Fancy answered as he drew himself forward and undid his own bow-tie slowly. “I take it you’re not much in the mood for foreplay tonight, no? You’re acting more… frisky than usual.”
“I-I wanna do something crazy with you,” Blueblood answered in a moment of blind excitement in a tone that seemed genuinely happy if a bit nervous to admit it. “Shining told me it’s fun to be forward sometimes… Can we please just move it along before you tease me.”
“I wouldn’t tease you about that” Fancy tried insisting just as he raised his hoof and pulled on Blueblood’s dress shirt.
“You are so blatantly lying it’s almost killed the mood,” Blueblood seemed liked he wanted to growl, but now he had sparked Fancy’s interest and given him the upper hand in the scenario.
In one swift instant Fancy Pants called upon the magic in his horn and drew every curtain of every window in the kitchen and also, in something he might call adventurous, shoved off everything from the kitchen table including the tablecloth in order to make it a flat surface.
“Oh you are far too old for passionate teenage ridden uncomfortable sex on a table,” Blueblood groaned through his sudden laughter as Fancy Pants wiggled his eyebrows and jumped up onto the table to sit on his rump. “That’s both far below you when you have a bed worth as much as a commoner’s home in the next room.”
“Oh just call me a dirty old man once you’re up here and kissing me, you stubborn prince.” Fancy Pants smirked and reached out his hoof. “My belly’s so big you won’t even have to touch the filthy table, if it makes you feel better.”
“Is that suppose to entice me? You’re more disgusting than the table, your know. Germy, too.” Blueblood once again tried to hide the glimmer of excitement in his eye when he took Fancy’s hoof.
The night was long and full of far too many giggles and quiet, suppressed sounds in their moment of passionate decisions. When Blueblood tried to complain about his clothing being tossed carelessly on the floor Fancy kissed him, and when Fancy tried to tease Blueblood about a certain sound he made he got a kiss to shut him up in return. There was quite a bit of poking and prodding and childish language thrown around in the middle of their fun. At least twice everything grinded to a halt when the table grew too loud and Blueblood refused to end up with certain injured to explain based on their positions.
How they ended up anywhere apart for even a moment that night seemed to slip Fancy’s mind. He barely had time to clean up before even the thought of Blueblood entered his mind again and he chased the prince to the shower. It made him feel young in a way he hadn’t felt in years. He was positive he managed to blush more than Blueblood had when he revealed that yes, he could very willingly go for a third round.
Fancy Pants spent much of the night holding Blueblood close to him. He was positive that sleep would never find him, that Blueblood’s aroma would be too intoxicating and give him a buzz stronger than any drink ever could. Even when he had exhausted himself and was finally unwilling to continue their fun any longer he was unable to keep from staying close to the stallion.
He felt very young indeed, so young that he chastised himself silently in the night for having such puppy-like affection for the prince continue even now. It reminded him far too much of his first love to a mare he could hardly remember the name too back in school. How he claimed he would die for her, and how she claimed the same for him. Something along those lines sparked in this night with the prince that he couldn’t quite explain.
Fancy however did sleep eventually. It was soundless and dreamless and long, and he awoke only once momentarily when lips pressed to his own and the bed suddenly felt much colder as well as larger. His head was heavy and thick, like wading through molasses, but not hung over. It took him three tries all within the span of a single hour to gather the will to roll out of bed and abandon the pillow which he had named Prince Blueblood’s cuddling replacement that rested between his upper legs.
He was sore. Unbelievably sore. Normally his time alone with Blueblood he wouldn’t consider a work out, but similar to genuine love making, as cheesy as it may sound. But the night before felt animalistic. Passionate, yes, but primal in urges.
Fancy Pants resisted the urge to groan when he rolled out of bed and heard the sound of sizzling from the kitchen. The room was light, which told him that it was late in the day. It also told him that his sleep schedule was now beyond a doubt ruined. He walked from his room to the kitchen and saw Prince Blueblood with a much more well rested expression than Fancy was positive he himself had and a cup of tea in his hooves. The prince had not only taken all of the clothing of the two that had been scattered about the messy kitchen, but had actually folded and separated it as well as all the papers that had been tossed.
“Are you wearing my robe?” Fancy Pants asked and raised his brow. Blueblood looked to him and pulled at the sleeve of the velvet red robe that clung to his body. He looked like some of the red had crept onto his own face in a flush when asked that question.
“It looked comfy.” Blueblood responded and sipped from his tea. Behind him eggs sizzled in a pan and hay bacon strips right alongside them gave off an aroma of pleasure when they hit his nose.
“You look adorable in it,” Fancy teased and drew closer to the prince before resting a hoof on his shoulder and going behind the chair. “You positive it’s sanitary to eat on this table? I seem to recall one of us sweating an awful lot and the other making a mess.”
“Yeah,” Blueblood snorted in a high-brow kind of a manner as if to suggest he was above such bodily functions. “You, because you’re so tubby and get winded from five minutes of going at it.”
“Best five minutes of your evening,” Fancy Pants whispered tauntingly into Blueblood’s ear and assured that his breath ran down the prince’s cheek. He kissed the prince right at the base of his horn and patted him on the chest. “If you burn my eggs I’ll know you got embarrassed by that.”
He let the teasing words hit Blueblood before pulling away and looking over his shoulder to watch him blush. He left the kitchen and winked at the pony before doing so. He trotted down the hall with a bit of a spring in his step and a hum in his tune before trotting to the end of the hallway at the front door. He found a pile of his own mail slipped through the slot in the doorway and picked it up piece by piece with his magic.
Fancy Pants was in the middle of humming some overly sappy love song he heard once at a bar when he was browsing through his usual junk mail. He chuckled when he got an ad for his own design of a dress and read through a few pointless bills that he made a mental note to check of later.
But then something caught his eye. It was right on the bottom of the pile as though it had been slipped in first. It was a large, light purple envelope. It clashed against the sea of white letters and stood out to him quickly, as if begging for him to take a look. He set every other letter down on a nearby table piece by piece before grabbing the letter in his own hooves.
Before he could even read the address he caught a whiff of something. It was something near indescribable and something that caught his attention far more than anything else had. Not even Blueblood’s own scent had made him freeze in such a way. It was almost nostalgic and youthful in a sense. A mixture of cheap but pleasant smelling perfume and old, dusty books from a library. The smell was so brief and gone even quicker that he had almost bought that he imagined it.
He felt… a memory stir within.
He turned the letter over in his hooves and saw a single name that made something clench within him.
Lacy Stitch, of Manehatton Fabric Emporium
Fancy felt his mouth open as though he wished to say something, but then he closed it in a moment’s notice. He looked over his shoulder as if to assure that Prince Blueblood hadn’t come to check on him. He then looked back to the letter. It felt thin, as though it contained nothing but a single paper.
Something about the atmosphere which just a moment prior had felt whimsical and even a bit childish to think on now turned bleak. He tore the letter slowly and gingerly, as if afraid too much noise would draw attention. He felt a stab of guilt in his gut, as though he were going behind somepony’s back. Behind Blueblood’s back.
He sat down in the hallway and stared at the doorway to the kitchen as he loosened the letter from it’s envelope and bit on his tongue. His mouth tasted bitter. He unfolded the letter and then began to read it. The penmanship was neat and lacy, and gave off this bubbly, cheerful aura that was a polar opposite of what he felt swirl within him.
Dear Fancy Pants,
It’s been so long since I’ve had to write out that name by my own hoof. You were once my favorite customer when we were young, do you remember? I still have that necklace you gave me, though of course I don’t wear it. I keep it someplace safe, though, where I can look at it whenever I want and remember those days. I’m not going to ask how you are, because any pony who pays attention to fashion like you know I do can already tell how you are. I’ve had at least three old friends ask me about your new little friend, Prince Blueblood. I’ll admit I was shocked when I saw the headline, not to mention the picture itself, dear Celestia. But in a way it made me want to pick up the quill and write to you. I’m surprised you still find passion like that somewhere deep in those designer pockets of yours to have fun like that. It made me jealous in an entirely selfish kind of a way, you know. It reminds me back when we we-
Fancy crushed the letter in his hooves. Something in him snapped not by the words on the paper that were otherwise harmless, but it was as though the muscles in his arms reacted before he could think. He sat there in the hallway silently listening only to the sound of his own breathing and looking at what he had accomplished. He tried to dig deep into his pockets, as the letter had said, and find that passion and joy he had felt just minutes ago. But no, it had depleted. He bit his tongue and felt angry at both his actions and the existence of the letter himself, both feelings making him feel equally guilty.
“Fancy?” Blueblood asked. Fancy Pants felt his heart skip a beat when he turned and saw the prince in the doorway of the kitchen. He took a step forward, and Fancy crumpled the letter further. Blueblood didn’t draw back, but he did freeze in place.
“What?” Fancy snapped in a tone that he honestly couldn’t remember ever using with Blueblood. He paused, held his breath, and then tried to fix what he might have upset. “What is it…. Sweetheart?”
“Are you… What was that letter?” Blueblood started one question, and then ended with another. He had this look of worry on his face that wasn’t too dissimilar to the one he had worn early the morning before. Confusion and fear and a need of reassurance that he looked to Fancy for. “It’s not bad, is it? Nopony is hurt, are they?”
Fancy Pants twisted his lips and got to his hooves slowly. He held the paper out in front of him with his magic and simply stared at it for the next several moments. When he looked to the prince, Blueblood seemed as though he were dying to ask something but was trying his best to be patient. But behind that was a sense of nerves that he couldn’t recall ever seeing on his lover’s face when he met those blue eyes which at any other time would have made his heart feel light.
“It’s from my ex wife,” Fancy Pants answered.
Author's Note
So did I write a chapter of basically nothing but fluffy cute shipping establishing stuff and dance around the issue of very obvious sex in my rated T story? Yes. Yes I did.
I dunno I just wanted to write something and this came out and I was like eeeey continuation.
Fuck it's been 3 months since I wrote something for this.
