A Cold Wind Blows

by Glacier Wind

Rating: mature
Tags: Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Sad, Other, Romance, Original Character, Sex
Length: 41527

Glacier Wind is your average pegasus stallion. He loves reading, writing mediocre novels, and dreaming of finding love. Out of the game for years now, Glacier needs the help of a dear friend to aid him. And only time will tell if she truly can help.

Meet Glacier Wind, your average pegasus stallion. He loves to read, work on his mediocre novels and, like most lonely ponies, dream about love. However, it's been years since this particular stallion has found any semblance of love in his life to speak of, and the only thing he has left is his trusty friend, Ice Stream. With a little coercing and the push in the right direction from a dear friend, will Glacier be able to finally find the love of his life? Or will it all just blow him by like a cold breeze?

Contains: Cuteness, cuddles, snuggles, feels, and gay and lesbian characters.. All of these except for the last two are subject to show up at random.

Published 2016-12-08 04:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-03-01 01:28:13 UTC

Chapter 1: I like my Coffee Straight

Chapter 1
I like my Coffee Straight

The monotonous clacking of the typewriter hammers on paper rang throughout a small home near the outermost edge of Ponyville. There, practically hunched over to the point of having a hunchback, sat an icy-blue Pegasus stallion named Glacier Wind. You see, Glacier Wind was caught in the throes of his latest novel. It was romantic endeavor not only for the stallion, but for the book as well. So much so, that he had found it rather difficult to leave his home as of late. Getting to the point that his only friend, a mare that matched him in coat colour but who was completely different personality-wise, had come to his home on many an occasion asking him to come out.

He refused on all these occasions, stating that he was far too busy to “go out”, that he was just getting to the good part of his story. The stallion in his story had finally found the love of his life and was drastically trying to hold onto his affection, regardless of the feelings his parents showed towards the couple. The story rang true with the stallion, as the novel was a mirror reflection of his own past relationship with a very similar stallion featured prominently in the novel.

But it was all ink on the paper to the stallion, this had come and gone, and he was completely content with the ways things had turned out for himself. He was a remotely popular author (almost obscure), with a dedicated reader base. A little too dedicated a reader base; as such was proven on his last tour with mares throwing themselves at him, wanting autographs with custom scribbles of appreciation, pictographs, and overall attention. Truth be told, the stallion did like the attention, but he preferred a more masculine appreciation. A small, lithe and handsome stallion that would sweep him off his hooves just as his closest friend had over eight years prior. He didn’t think it would happen, though. Not many stallions were interested in the lovey-dovey stuff he wrote, and were usually only at the signings as a sign of caring for their mare-friends. He had yet to meet one single stallion that was interested in his scribblings, let alone one who would talk to him about them.

With a sigh and the ding of the typewriter, Glacier pulled the parchment from its roost in the carriage and placed it in a growing pile of papers; the stack lay next to one completely void of words. It was nearly there, just two more chapters and the story would finally be complete. The stallion would have his love. And Glacier? He would still have no-pony. Nothing new.

There was a knock at the door that shook the stallion from his self-loathing. He looked to the door, the small window in the wood still covered by the curtain he had forgotten to draw back this morning. He had been wondering why it had been so dark in there this entire time. Now he knew.

Stepping off of his seat to be sure to not disturb his pile of work, Glacier made his way towards his front door. He passed by an out cove in his stairs, and made his way through his moderately sized common-room before arriving at the doorway. Drawing the small yellow curtain back, Glacier wasn’t surprised to see who it was. He was hoping it would have been the local mail-mare, Derpy, but fate wasn’t smiling upon him this morning.

“What do you want, Ice Stream?” Glacier asked with a sass present in his voice.

The unicorn mare cocked her head to the side as a wry smile graced her soft and delicate features. “Aww, is the popular and wonderful Mr. Wind not want to be visited by his one and only friend today?” The sarcasm was sweet like honey.

It was now the colt’s turn to flash a smile, much to his own dismay. But it was impossible to control. The colt just loved to flash his cocky grin whenever he could. “Now, now Ms. Ice, I never insinuated such things.” But he sure was thinking it. “What would make you think such a thing?”

“I don’t know, Glacier…” the mare huffed out, losing what little resolve she had brought up to the door with her. She should have brought more. “Maybe it’s because you haven’t gone to the café with me in nearly two weeks. You’ve been coopt up and won’t even leave to hang out with me.”

But there was a tick in the back of her head that went off. Something that brought some promiscuously placed puzzle pieces into their respective resting places, and she got a wicked idea. An Idea good enough to rattle the stallion. Maybe even make him open his door to talk to her properly. “How are you going to meet a stallion, Glacier, if you keep yourself inside, away from all their eyes?” There was a drippy desire that fell off of her words. Almost as if she wished to watch Glacier and another stallion—

The door finally opened and the mare seized the moment, using her magic to force the door agape as she squeezed into Glacier’s home. The stallion stumbled back as she forced her way by him and he tried to refrain from falling whilst using his wings to regain balance, but ended up falling flat on his flank anyways. Turns out having wings doesn’t mean you have perfect balance.

“What the hay was that for?” Glacier all but snarled as he rubbed at his aching flank idly with a hoof. It didn’t help that he had wood floors either.

“For not opening the door when a lady knocked.” She smacked the stallion with her ice-blue and white tail. “You really should learn how to treat a lady. What would the other stallions think of you if you can’t even treat a mare right?”

The Pegasus on the floor looked to her with an angered expression on his face before rising to his hooves. He quickly brushed the slight dust that had somehow accumulated upon his withers and barrel away with a few gentle strokes of his wings. “I can’t learn how to treat a mare well when you are, indeed, not a mare.” He threw the icy mare a glare of triumph as her ears flicked back.

“Rude dude, Glacier,” the mare mock scowled, swatting a hoof at him playfully. The stallion dodged her mock assault, laughing internally all the while. She leaned forwards however, pulling the stallion into a strange hug of sorts, nearly tackling him to the ground. She towered over him with a mock grin of superiority.

“Okay, okay, Ice Stream!” the stallion pleaded. “You can get off now.” The mare continued to eye him down, looking over him tantalizingly. Her grin grew bigger before she finally spoke up, breaking the small bit of silence that had begun to grow.

“On one condition…” She paused again, an air of caution growing in the stallion as he awaited the mare’s batted response. “On the condition that you go to the café with me and try to at least meet a stallion for once. You staying cooped up in here all the time, writing about romance having never really experienced it yourself, is unhealthy.”

The stallion pushed the mare’s barrel with both hooves, forcing her off of his body and onto her flanks. She landed a little hard on her haunches but steeled herself against the pain. She was kind of asking for it, after all. He smirked back, and rose onto his flanks himself, sitting before the cocky mare trying to hide the fact that she was rubbing her own flank. He watched her before rising to his hooves and walking around to the door. He grabbed his saddlebag, threw it across his chubby barrel and buckled it with his teeth in a flash. He was now ready to go out into town with his friend.

Looking him over with a grin of pure and utter jubilation, Ice Stream trotted over next to him and jumped up and down playfully like a rather happy bunny. “You really mean it, Glacier?!” she nearly shouted in the stallion’s ears as he motioned her towards the door with an extended wing. “You’re going to make a conscious effort to meet a stallion finally?”

The stallion blushed, not expecting his friend to really care all that much. Since when in his life has he ever had another pony, let alone a mare, want to help him with finding a mate. Especially once they knew that he was into stallions and stallions alone. Truth be told, Glacier had previously believed himself to be purely bisexual. However, after much deliberation and internal debates with himself, he decided that he was mostly and mainly interested in the male persuasion. So much so that he found himself referring to his future mate as a stallion at all times: future colt-friend and husband alike. And when he wasn’t referring to his future mate with a masculine noun, he was fantasizing about other stallions. Most of them being rather girly-looking males, but males nonetheless. He just really liked a feminine stallion. One that he could hold, giggle with, and cuddle endlessly. Glacier really likes to cuddle.

“Yes, yes,” he said, rolling he eyes as his friend continued her seemingly endless hopping. She continued to smile as well, moving to and outside the door in a rather speedy manner. She turned on a dime, looking to Glacier as he walked out of his home after her, closing the door and locking it promptly and skillfully with a wing. Throwing his key into the side pouch of his saddlebag, Glacier motioned his head and Ice Stream joined by his side as they made their way towards town.

“So,” Ice Stream pipped up, looking up to Glacier with a beaming smile that seemed to stretch on as long as the horizon itself, “what is your new story really about this time?” Glacier looked to her with a confused smile. He cocked his head to the side, taking in just what she was asking. He was certain he had told her the last time she had been here. Even though it was two weeks prior.

“Hadn’t I told you what I was writing about?” Glacier asked back, looking for confirmation of his previously conceived thoughts.

“Um…” Ice Stream looked up and seemed to be concentrating on her horn, deep in thought. She got so lost in her own thoughts that she had not even noticed that she was trailing off to the right, and would have walked right into a tree if it had not been for Glacier pulling her out of the way with a wing. “Thanks…”

“No problem, Ice,” Glacier retorted with a slight smirk, flicking the mare in her flank with his black and purple stripped tail.

“Well”—Ice giggled and looked back down to her hooves for a moment before looking to Glacier with a skewed smile of her own. “I know it’s a romance story,” she said in a sing-song tone. Glacier nodded as they continued on. He didn’t make eye-contact but that mattered little. “But what are you doing differently in it this time compared to the others?”

“I’m working on the more…intimate aspect of the relationship this time,” Glacier said, looking back to his friend for a split second before eyeing the dirt pathway beneath his hooves with a blush. The light of the blush was just light enough that Ice could barely make it out in the contrast of the colour of his fur, but that didn’t stop the mare from noticing it completely.

Knowing what Glacier knew by his tone, blush, and the lowering of his head, Ice dropped the subject with an, “I see. That’s okay…” She smiled, though it looked strained. She kind of regretted asking about it now.

“Yeah,” Glacier said, looking back up from the ground and his hooves. He looked back ahead, seeing that they were coming close to the inner workings of Ponyville now. They could see the various other ponies that lived there, all walking around, conversing with one another, pulling about various carts and wagons. Glacier was even sure that he seen a very familiar orange coloured mare walking by with a wagon totting barrels nearly pouring over with freshly picked apples.

Soon the duo reached a rather humble-looking building. It bore two-tone colour of brown on its wood and brick—as caddy and tacky as they may be—and had a rather nicely, perpendicularly running sign above its door. The sign had a bone-white coffee cup atop a saucer of matching hue; the cup was filled with a steaming liquid that could only be suspect of actual coffee. Under the cup hung a rectangular wooden cut-out that read: ‘Fresh Brew Café’.

Standing at the precipice of the establishment, Glacier placed his hoof upon the handle of the door and flicked it down with a thunderous clank. The door opened, smacking a bell on the innards of the café, signalling that he and Ice Stream were entering. As they walked in the building a couple ponies looked over from their seats, investigating the couple that had just breached the quiet of the tightly-knit group. Their eyes fell on two ponies that, with ignorance to their gazes, continued on their merry way, sitting at a table off to the far end of room.

Seating themselves in the bench seating that was lain about the perimetre of the room, both ponies laid their hooves upon the surface of the table, looking intently at one another. If one were to see the couple from afar, they would think that both of these ponies were looking upon one another with a lover’s eye. And apparently somepony did think this, as the waitress pony who had approached the couple had been standing there trying to get the friend’s attention for about three minutes before she was finally able to claim it.

“Good afternoon,” the young, snow-white unicorn mare coughed out.

Startled, Glacier threw his head back and over towards the young mare standing at the side of their table. Ice did very much of the same, looking to the mare with eyes wide, pupils dilated. Her mouth was a gape, whereas Glacier was just rather cool with the whole thing. He knew what the waitress was thinking, he could read it all over muzzle. But he knew that there was nothing there between him and Ice. And he knew that Ice felt the same way.

“G-good afternoon,” Glacier stuttered out, looking to the snow-white mare with an almost ghostly expression. “How are you…?” He trailed off, searching for a name where one hadn’t been. He looked to the mare’s breast, seeing if he could spot a nametag of some sort. Unfortunately, there was no nametag to be found. Celestia be merciful this day.

The mare smiled a slightly wry toothy grin then, with the bit of her silver-esque magic, flipped open a pad of paper she had been toting. Glacier could have sworn the mare wasn’t holding anything in her magic, let alone was using her magic at all, but looks can be deceiving perhaps. Just like Ice and himself, as they both had come to this very café for many years now. Most of the staff, minus this particular mare, all probably thought the two were romantically involved. But the more Glacier thought about it, the more his head hurt and he started to place lines and connections where they didn’t belong. And once he had reached the point of connecting the livelihoods of his two favourite radio show Celestial Detectives, Moulder and Scully, he had to finally put that train of thought to rest. He broke the bridge crossing the metaphorical ravine and the etheric train tumbled into the black abyss below.

“The name’s Sweet Tea!” the unicorn mare chirped happily. “Unfortunately, because of being rather new here, I don’t really have a nametag yet.” Glacier looked up into her violet eyes. They were soft, kind, and caring. There was a hint of flirtation in the way she swung her words around him and Ice. Either this mare was really peppy and sincere, or she was interested in Glacier. The look in her eyes when he continued to stare didn’t help the assumption either.

Glacier looked away and Sweet Tea’s smile faltered. He replaced his gaze on Ice and asked her what she would like to get. Ice looked to Sweet and then back to Glacier. Her expression was a skewed as Sweet’s wavy lips. She had even parted her own for but a moment before sealing them shut again. She didn’t dare speak. Instead she remained quiet.

“The usual?” Glacier prodded. Sweet looked to Ice, whom simply nodded to the stallion in front of her. He returned his gaze thereafter to Sweet and looked her dead in the eyes. He cleared his throat with a strangled cough, and the mare readied her pad and pen, attentively waiting for the stallion to place his order.

Straightening himself in his seat, Glacier took to finally answering the poor mare. “I’ll have a cup of coffee, three cream and three sugar.” He motioned his hoof to Ice and continued on with her side of the order next. “And she’ll have a cup of coffee—straight.”

The waitress mare smiled, jotting the order down on her pad as quickly as it was relayed to her. She then nodded and excused herself from the table before returning promptly to the kitchen. Once she was gone, Ice looked to Glacier whom had been watching the mare leave. She coughed and the stallion looked over to her with a slight smirk on his features.

“Well she was certainly smitten,” Ice said with a certain twain of annoyance in her voice. She looked over to the employee door on the other side of the café, before looking down to the table with a slight sneer.

“What’s the matter?” Glacier chuckled evilly. “Jealous?” He lightly smacked the table in front of Ice’s muzzle and then rose her head up with the same hoof. “Don’t be. I’m not really into mares, and you are really into them. Don’t be upset. Okay?” He smiled softly after, placing a hoof on his friends, reassuring her in his actions.

Ice’s features softened and a smile graced her muzzle. “I suppose you’re right.” She placed her other hoof atop her friends, and Glacier followed suit by doing the same with his other hoof. “Soon I’ll find a mare to be my filly-friend. As will you with a stallion to be your colt-friend. And then—“

“We’ll both be free of the cold of loneliness,” Glacier finished.

Chapter 2: Second Cup

Chapter 2
Second Cup

The first trip to the Fresh Brew Café proved to be fruitless, as Glacier had not even spoken to but one stallion. And the stallion he had spoken to was most certainly not into other stallions. Such was proven by the way the stallion spoke about his mare-friend almost the entire time they conversed. All the while, Ice sat back, face-hoofing herself as she watched the bumbling stallion “work his magic”. And let’s just say: even if the other stallion was interested…and not attached, Glacier still wouldn’t have had a chance. Clearly he can write out the words of love and wooing, but was lackluster in projecting them conversation-wise. At least, when he was trying to do so.

However how bad the first day seemed to be harping on the stallion, Ice was there to try and make him feel better. She even stayed the night, sleeping over with him and snuggling up with him on the couch as he mulled over the things that he had done wrong during the visit to the café. The whole time he stayed on the topic of his incompetence when it came to speaking to an attractive stallion. He always found it hard. Always. But Ice was sure she could cheer her friend up.

“Hey!” Ice beamed, silencing her friend abruptly. “You know what would help cheer you up?” Glacier deadpanned, clearly not impressed in his friend. Though the voice in the back of his mind ached for him to hear her out. She was truly his only real friend that wasn’t family after all.

“What could possibly cheer me up?” Glacier rolled his eyes in questioning, looking away from his friend thereafter. He then hung his head over the hoof-rest of the moderately-sized red couch they sat upon. He huffed out of a puff of exaggerated air. An air his friend could pick up on from a mile away.

The mare frowned slightly now. “I know that sigh,” Ice said, a heavy weight present in her tone. Her usually bubbly, soft voice, had turned into something far deeper and sadder. “That’s the same sigh I heard all the time after—“

“Stop right there,” Glacier interrupted. He looked over to his friend, a furrow in his brow now, and a slant in his eyes. “Please don’t. You know how I get when ponies bring…that up.” There was then a creak as Glacier took to rising off of the couch, his hooves touching down softly on a black woolen carpet. It softened the blow of his steps as he slowly trudged from the centre of the common-room, to the threshold of the dining-room.

“Glacier…”

The stallion stopped.

“I’m sorry… You know that, don’t you?” Ice asked.

The stallion turned about face the dining-room and looked back to his friend. There was something in the way she was sitting on the couch just then. The look on her muzzle, and the slight look of tears in her eyes. She knew she had brought up a demon that was better left off buried. But it was just so hard when this demon was just so influential to Glacier.

“I know that you didn’t do it on purpose…” The stallion hung his head, looking up to the mare from its slightly lower orientation. “I forgive you.” He began to walk back over to the couch, creeping up rather slowly. And once he was there, he pulled himself back up on the couch, this time closer to Ice Stream. And, extending his right wing, Glacier wrapped it around his friend, pulling her close.

“You’re such a suck, Glacier Wind,” Ice teased playfully, sticking her tongue out.

“No I’m not,” he retorted, pulling her closer. He then placed his head upon her own—minding her horn—humming as he held her in his embrace of friendship. “You’re my best friend, you know that, right?”

Ice giggled and looked up to him with a subtle brightness returning to her demeanor. “I’m your only friend Glacier.” She then pushed him away from her with what was a considerable amount of force, before the stallion fell back with a giggle.

“You know what?” He asked, sitting back up. He scuttled on his flanks back to the other side of the couch, and rested back against the hoof-rest. Shooting Ice one of the slyest smiles he could, Glacier continued. “You’re right.”

2…

“Glacier?” Ice said with a flick of her mane, standing on her hind-legs at his stove, spoon in her maw. The stallion turned to look at her from the counter next to her, a smile on his muzzle. Ice placed the spoon down on the counter before speaking again. “How many carrots should we put in the soup?”

“About two or free should be ghood,” Glacier said through the handle of a vegetable knife. He placed the knife down on the counter next to the cutting board totting various chopped up vegetables. Carrots just so happened to be one. “Sorry, force of habit.” His smile turned sheepishly. “Two or three should be good.”

Ice giggled and poked the stallion in the shoulder with a hoof. “Then you got to start remembering to not speak when your mouth is full.”

Glacier smiled wickedly now. “What if I like talking with my mouth full?” He poked the mare back and she smacked his hoof away with a shriek of a giggle, yelling at him for his obscenity.

“Oh, you dirty colt!” the mare yelled, picking up a nearby tea towel in her mouth and smacking the stallion on the wing and then on the flank. He yipped but giggled as he too picked up a tea towel in his mouth, smacking her flank a lot lighter than she was smacking him.

“You’re just as bad, silly little filly,” Glacier laughed as he jumped over Ice, dropping his towel on the poor, unsuspecting mare’s head. He flew into the common-room next, landing square next to a small coffee table. Standing there triumphantly as his friend ran into the room after him, he said, “You want to be with a mare so badly, you get all huffy and puffy when they pay you no attention. You must wanna get a mouth—“

Ice charged Glacier down before he could finish his rather lewd statement, and she tackled him to the ground, tea towel still held tightly in-between her teeth. She laughed as the colt fell to the ground under her quickly. She then tossed the tea towel to the side, it landing on the coffee table and hanging off of the edge.

“So easy,” she chuckled to herself as her friend covered his face with his hooves sheepishly. “Time to man-up Glacier.” She stepped off of her friend and sat on her haunches next to coffee table, Glacier looking to her the entire time.

“Yeah…” he giggled, looking to the floor with a heavy breath, before peering back up to her with another wide yet sheepish smile. “That was fun.”

Ice Stream looked to him with a very similar smile to that of his own. “Of course it was fun, silly colt.” She swatted him with a hoof, resulting in a comical ‘oof’ from the stallion. “I’m you’re bestest friend. What are friends for, if not to have fun?”

The mare stood on her hooves once more, and began to stride towards the kitchen. Once upon the threshold, she looked back over her withers to Glacier. “Come, silly colt. We still have some soup to make. After lunch we are going to your favourite store.”

3…

The time had come and gone for Glacier and Ice to eat, and they had finally finished their soup. It was a rather delicious affair. And the time had now come for the duo to make their way to the very special store that Ice had been promising the pegasus they would go.

“Now,” Ice began as she hopped down the dirt path leading away from Glacier’s home, “we are going to The Beat Goes On for a reason.”

“And why is that?” Glacier asked, brows quirked as he watched his friend bounce so jubilantly.

“Duh,” she said exaggeratedly, smacking the colt in the foreleg. “Because you love music. It always helps you out of a funk. Regardless what kind it is. It’s always helped.”

“Sounds like you want me to empty my already rather light bag of bits, and make it even lighter.” Glacier smiled to his friend, smacking her in the foreleg as well, laughing a little to himself as he did so. “I figure you’re actually bringing me there so that I can buy you a new record that you can’t really buy for yourself right now.”

The mare smiled rather wildly, giggling all the while like a crazy mare. “How did you know?” she questioned, extending the ‘know’ to go on seemingly forever.

“Countess Coloratura has a new album out, doesn’t she?” he deadpanned.

The look on Ice’s face fell and it turned from one of gleeful giddiness, to one of shock and surprise. “Oh goddesses, no…” She looked away bashfully and back with a slight recovery of her smile. “Does she now? I had no clue.”

Finally making it into town it didn’t take the friends very long to get to The Beat Goes On. The smaller than average store boasted a rather large sign of a 78RPM record, with the name of the shop in the centre sticker. The words were a neon white, blue, green, and red respectively. It hung there, placed directly against the wall of the establishment.

Walking up to the front door, the two continued to debate over why Ice had been dragging Glacier out to this store in particular. Sure, just like the mare had said, this was the stallion’s favourite store to go to. It had wonderful staff, wonderful music playing on the phonograph, and a wonderful selection of music to boot. But he was confused, to say the least.

“Why are we here again exactly?” Glacier asked, eyeing the store around them both further. “I mean, I’ve been here with you before, bought you and I music, and have also perused the occasional stud that walks through the door. What gives?”

She furrowed her brow and looked to him with an arduously overemphasised look of displeasure. “Oh, you know why we are here,” the mare then giggled. Glacier smirked and smacked his friend in the back of her head with a wing. Though it was rather lightly.

“Yeah, I do. Buy Ice Stream a new album of music, that’s what I’m here doing.” He rolled his eyes, laughing internally as he then began to walk away, flicking his tail into the mare’s chest as he went on.

“Aww, don’t be like that, Glacier.” Ice groaned in frustration and looked to the stallion at the counter, whom smiled to her warmly. He looked to her almost as if this was a natural and continuous occurrence of theirs. And he wouldn’t be wrong.

“Well, I’m going over here,” Glacier yelled from across the store, almost hiding out behind all the shelves of seemingly endless LP’s. “I’m going to look for something that isn’t that.” He then motioned a wing over towards a display of Countess Coloratura’s new album on the far end of the store. “I’m looking for something with a little more texture this time.”

Finding a shelf of LP’s the stallion thought to be interesting, he settled in and took to looking. Syphoning through the works of Beethooven, The Beach Colts, Stone Temple Pegasi, The Backalley Colts, and Smash Muzzle, Glacier noticed the name of a group he had never seen there before. They had a particularly interesting name: Neighvana.

The colt mused over the idea of what this band could truly be about. What their sound was like, and just why they called themselves ‘Neighvana’. It was all very peculiar to the colt. He even cocked his head to the side and stuck out his tongue as he thought about just what the album would sound like. Then the stallion looked at the actual art on the cover. The art was black and white, and showed the ponies of this band playing music with electric guitars and elaborate drum kits.

Next was the title.

He looked over the jacket, scanning it with his eyes almost ceremoniously. He was looking for it without properly touching the thing. And in finding nothing, the stallion took to lifting the album off of the shelf, and looked it over in his hooves. He looked over the cover again and found the name of the album on the bottom of the cover art. The title read: “Bleach”.

Interesting… A thing used for cleaning clothes (that Glacier and every other pony wore so infrequently) used as the title. It was certainly intriguing enough though, that Glacier took to walking up to the stallion at the front counter for question.

“Hello,” Glacier called out as he approached the counter. The stallion looked over to him as Glacier placed the record on the countertop. He slid it over to the stallion unceremoniously, the plastic shrink wrap skidding slightly on the surface.

“How are you today, Sir?” The brown unicorn stallion smiled to Glacier with a rather warm and friendly smile. He quirked an eyebrow and looked down to the cover of the album and then looked back up to Glacier. The smile was still very much there, but there seemed to be a different air behind it. Glacier could tell.

“I’m doing well,” Glacier said rather happily. Extending a hoof, he placed it on the low-riding countertop and tapped it next to the album he had placed there. He then continued to speak to the cashier stallion about the album in question. “I am curious about this one here… Would you, perhaps, be able to explain it a little?”

The unicorn stallion brushed the back of his black and white streaked mane (it was a medium length) with a hoof, and almost looked away with a rather transformed smile about his muzzle. It looked almost as if it had turned sheepish, the corners of his lips playing little waves on his features and his teeth completely sealed behind his lips. He hummed out a little something that sounded much like uncertainty in sound form, and looked Glacier directly in the eyes.

There was a sparkle there.

Glacier smiled back a little harder and a heat grew in his cheeks. He was sure that the cashier stallion could see, but he couldn’t be sure. It didn’t look like he was reacting to it. Or perhaps, he just didn’t care.

On the other side of the shop, Ice could be found rummaging through other various albums that she would most likely try and get Glacier to buy for here. I mean, why buy your own albums when you have a friend that will buy them all for you? Am I right? However, once she heard the tone of not only Glacier’s voice but that of another stallion’s as well, she turned to find him deep in conversation. She smiled.

“Atta colt, Glacier,” the mare whispered under her breath. She then turned to look back over the few albums that were in front of her; all variously pop related in sound, and continued her self-shopping on Glacier’s behalf.

Back on the other side of the shop, Glacier was still talking to the stallion in question.

“Well,” the stallion began, placing his hoof slightly closer to Glacier’s own, “the name comes from the frontman of the group wanting something that played on the word ‘nirvana’.”

Glacier giggled giddily, without really realizing it. “Seems simple enough. But effective.”

“Exactly,” the cashier stallion said, laughing a little himself. He leaned over the countertop further, sliding his hoof a little closer to Glacier’s own, looking him right in the eyes. “As for the title of the album. I wouldn’t be able to tell you in the slightest. I’m not too sure myself.”

“Well, that certainly was a help regardless. But,” Glacier tapped the cover of the album, moving his hoof away from where the other stallion’s had been, “what is their sound like?” This got another chuckle from the cashier pony, which made Glacier quirk his head to the side in a cute manner, the purple stripe of his mane falling over his right eye. He looked on past it to the other pony with intrigue.

“Their sound is a little interesting,” the stallion said with another slight chortle. He scratched the back of his mane yet again. “They are a mix of really hard rock and punk music at the moment, though I’m sure their music will evolve like with just about any group really. But it really is something you need to experience for yourself.” The stallion then winked at Glacier. “Like with other things too.”

Glacier’s blushed only burned ever brighter and he looked away sheepishly before eventually returning his gaze to the stallion. He looked back rather slowly, wanting not to look too pushy and desperate. He could clearly tell now that this stallion was trying to hit on him. Not like the hoof nearly brushing against his own again was any sign of that as well.

“Well,” the cashier pony began again, “would you—“

“Hey-a Glacier!” Ice interjected, bouncing up next to her friend. He looked over at her. “I got the albums I wanted.” The mare threw down a few albums from various pop groups that Glacier was sure he had never heard of before. He cocked his head to the side as he watched the mare trot in place next to him and practically beam with child-like excitement.

“Perfect. I think I found a rather interesting one to listen to while I write.”

The cashier stallion’s face fell. He looked a little rough around the edges now. “Is this your mare-friend?” the stallion asked.

Glacier looked to him, and he could see the confusion settling in on the stallion’s gradually changing features. “No,” he retorted. “This is my friend.” He jabbed Ice in the side with a hoof. Luckily it was covered up by the counter being in the way of the cashier’s sightline.

“Yeah,” Ice giggled, I’m just his friend.” The jab didn’t hurt. In fact, it was so light, that one might have through the strike had come from that of a little filly.

“Oh,” the stallion said with a raised brow now.

Glacier giggled, a little nervously now. “Yes…” He pulled over Ice Stream’s albums and placed them atop his own before asking the cashier how much he owned him for the purchase. The cashier almost reluctantly gave him a total and cashed both the stallion and his intervening friend out.

Ice and Glacier bid the stallion a rather rocky good day as he placed the newly purchased albums in his saddlebag, and then they left the record store. Upon leaving, Glacier took to chastising his friend from how she blocked him from talking to the stallion some more, and how she stopped the cashier stallion from asking him a question.

Glacier was very sure what that question was going to be, but the unlikelihood was still there. And it scared the stallion. Made it difficult for him to return to the store and face that cute stallion himself and ask him what he was going to ask him before Ice had interrupted. But he couldn’t. It would be too awkward now.

“You could always go back inside and ask the stallion what he was going to ask you. You know that, right?” Ice asked as they made their way back through the Ponyville market.

“I know that, Ice,” Glacier said, sounding a bit stressed by the whole situation. “It would be nice to be able to just walk back in there and ask the stallion what he was going to ask me, but I can’t.” He sigh and looked to the ground with an air of regret in the way he hung his head. He looked ashamed of himself now.

“Hey,” Ice began, nuzzling up against his side as they then cleared the marketplace and started on the road toward Glacier’s home, “you could always go back some other time and ask that stallion when you work up the courage…”
She paused for a second and Glacier didn’t say anything. Ice then took it upon herself to try and convince Glacier that it wasn’t going to be all too bad after all. “Remember Glacier…” She nudged into his side to try and get his attention better. “It would be nice to get a colt-friend, but let’s not push too hard. Perhaps you should step back and think about this one. He seems nice, you both got along, and he’s very handsome.”

“You know what?” Glacier rose his head and looked back to his friend, a slight smile on his now wavy-looking muzzle. “You’re right, Ice. I’ll listen to the album I bought and write a little tomorrow and just really think about it. Perhaps that is the best thing for me to do right now. Because, if I push too hard, the stallion might get the wrong idea; especially if he actually likes me. I don’t want to scare him away.”

“Exactly!” Ice exclaimed in a rather chipper tone as they both finally reached Glacier’s abode.
The two stepped up the short stairs to his front door. The stallion then pulled the key free from a little pouch in the side of his saddlebag and unlocked the door. Ice and Glacier then entered the house together, their new music and thoughts for the night in tow. Tomorrow was definitely going to be a little interesting.

Chapter 3: The Difficulties of Buying a Typewriter

Chapter 3
The Difficulties of Buying a Typewriter

The following day came and Glacier found himself sitting at his typewriter like he usually did; writing out more of his latest novel, whilst he drank his morning tea. It was a ritual the stallion had grown accustomed to over the past few years. Wake up, shower, eat breakfast, and then drink tea. But as he peered over to the front door for what felt like the thirtieth time this morning, he hoped that this morning would be a little different, even though he really did want to get more work done on his story.

With another ding of the bell on his old Corona typewriter, Glacier pulled the parchment from the roller with a swish. He looked the paper over and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. And, eventually giving in, the stallion smiled. He liked what he had written.

Tossing the paper into the pile of inky-word covered pages on his right, Glacier slid himself off of his chair and walked over to the kitchen. Entering, he made his way for the refrigerator before pulling the door open with a wing. He examined the innards of the appliance, scanning over the shelves with a half-lidded expression. He was looking for a quick snack but couldn’t really seem to find anything in particular that he felt like snacking on in that moment. So he stood there, in deep thought, before a rather pleasant idea struck him.

“Hey,” he started, monolog-ing out loud to himself (as he found himself doing on occasion now), “I could go into town and get something to eat.” His stomach growled and he looked down to it before holding it with a hoof, rubbing it like an expectant mother. “Sounds like you agree too. Guess I didn’t really know how hungry I really was.”

Closing the fridge’s door with a slight thwack, Glacier turned about face and started on his way to the front door, grabbing his saddlebag and his rather light bag of bits from his desk in the hallway. He then pulled his key from his bag, opened the door with a wing, and stepped outside in seemingly one quick motion. He then locked the door and began his walk to the market of Ponyville. Because if there was one place that a pony could get a really good and nutritious snack, it was the Ponyville marketplace.

2…

Walking up and into the marketplace, Glacier took in the sights and the sounds of the bustling gathering spot. He sniffed the air and he could smell the crispness and sweetness of today’s freshly picked apples, and he could smell the glorious array of flowers that were on display in a stall to his immediate right. The pony there, Rose Luck he knew her by, was a rather kind pony. She sold her arrangements to both ponies looking to give them to loved ones, and those looking to…eat some. Because you wouldn’t think by looking at them, but flowers taste pretty darn good; even with all the other choices that the market had to offer in the way of food. But not only did the stalls of the market offer a quick meal for ponies, but they also offered various things for them to spend their hard-earned bits on. And one of those stalls just so happened to be catching Glacier’s eye now.

The stallion was looking over to a relatively new looking vendor here; a unicorn mare with a mane as red as a sparkling ruby, and as soft looking as the finest Equestrian silk. Her fur looked even softer than her mane—it was the colour of snow. She was certainly a standout in the crowd. But Glacier only noticed the booth for what the mare was selling there. Typewriters.

He walked up to the stall and began to peruse the selection of Corona, Royal-Barlock, New Moon, and Penncrest machines that they had there. They all looked fine and dandy to him, the sole New Moon typewriter catching his eye the most. Mainly due to its clear connection with Princess Luna herself. Her cutie mark was even on full display on the front of the machine, with the companies name printed proudly underneath it. The stallion continued to look this particular machine over, examining it to see if it would be a good purchase to make in the interest of his writing.

“Fine looking machine, is it not?” the sound of a smooth, illustrious voice came. It was the mare of the stall. Her voice sounded as smooth as her fur looked.

“It is,” Glacier beamed, continuing to look the machine over, pressing all the keys down with his wings and seeing how they smacked the roller at the back. He continued to do this, the mare eyeing him down with an almost curious look in her eyes.

“So, Mister…” the mare trailed off, looking to Glacier’s cutie mark to try and place a name, but Glacier beat her to the punch.

“Wind,” Glacier said with his smile still very much prevalent on his features. “Glacier Wind.” He continued to look over the typewriter on the countertop.

The mare sat there for a moment, rolling the name around in her head a little, trying to see if she knew this stallion already. He did look pretty familiar to her—it was his face that did it. The way he looked over the machine in wonderment and awe only seemed to exemplify the feelings. It drove the mare so crazy that she just up and asked the stallion.

“You look rather familiar to me, darling,” the unicorn mare started, using her magic to move some of the stray strands of hair that had fallen into her vision out.

“Hmm?” the stallion hummed, looking up from the typewriter and now to the mare. He looked her in the eyes, watching her, waiting for her to speak again. But when she didn’t, the stallion took it upon himself to answer back in due cause. “I didn’t quite catch that,” he said, grinning to the snow-white mare. “Could you say that again?”

The mare smiled back at Glacier and walked around the stall and sat down next to him. “You look familiar, honey. Do I know you from somewhere?” Glacier cocked his brow, looking to the mare with a look of indifference. He hadn’t been called honey by anyone since—

Shaking the bad thought that tried to creep its way into the stallion’s mind, Glacier frowned slightly before responding. “Where do you think you know me from?” The stallion already had a pretty good idea as to where this mare probably more than likely knew him from and he was readying himself internally. He had been recognised by various passersby for his stories a few times before, but it was so rare an event that the stallion still had not figured out how to cope with the excitement they project. And he never really got it all that much, anyways; why they got so excited, that is. He wasn’t very popular and his stories weren’t really all that great either. At least that’s what his father had always told him. Although Glacier’s father had told him some various displeasing things about himself in his lifetime, so he could never tell if it was truth or all lies.

The mare tried to curl her tail around Glacier’s own, but he pulled his away when he realized just what she was doing. “My dear, I believe I recognise you from your book ‘A Lover’s curse’. At least, I recognise you from the photograph on the back of the book.” She attempted to wrap her tail around Glacier’s once again, and Glacier stood up if almost out of reflex and looked down on the mare with a scowl growing on his features. He had never been treated like this before, by any one fan. It was…strange.

“I am interested in purchasing that New Moon typewriter today,” Glacier said with the extension of a hoof in the machines general direction. His scowl only grew as the mare stood alongside him and began running her tail along his barrel and his chest as if to elicit a response from him. And it was working. Though it wasn’t the response she was hoping for, that was for certain. “Please, may I buy the typewriter and be gone?”

It was the stall mare’s turn for her expression to turn sour. “Well, Mister Wind, if you are so keen on just buying the goods and not really being able to sample all that I have to offer, then so be it—“

“Is there something the matter here?” a voice called out from behind Glacier. It sounded like another stallion. So help him if somepony thought that he was trying to force himself upon this mare…

“Yes,” Glacier began, spinning about face of the nameless mare. “As a matter-of-fact there—“He stopped and blank-faced when he seen who had asked him that very question. It was the stallion that Glacier had met at the record store yesterday. The handsome cashier stallion.

“Hey, I know you!” the stallion said with a slight chuckle. “You and your friend were in The Beat Goes On yesterday. You bought her all those albums but only bought yourself that one.” He smiled brightly, ignoring the now scowling mare from behind the stall counter. “Did you give it a listen yet?”

“Um, no,” Glacier said sheepishly, blushing under his icy-blue coat. It was very noticeable. “I haven’t gotten around to it just yet,” he finished.

The stallion chuckled again, clearly noticing the sheepish blush. “Well, maybe you would like to go for coffee sometime after you listen to it and we can talk about what you thought of it.” He cocked his head to the side and smiled brightly. “Would you like to? It would be really fun. I’d like to know what you thought of it.”

His eyes shot open, and Glacier was finding it hard to not jump up and down on the spot like Ice Stream. His mouth felt dry, it becoming rather difficult to speak or even gauge a response of some sort at all. He just stood there, mouth agape, eyes wide, gawking at the poor stallion before him.

The chocolate brown unicorn giggled as he noticed Glacier lost in thought and tried to pull him back to reality. “Anyways,” the stallion began, pointing to the mare and the stall of typewriters behind Glacier, “were you planning on buy a typewriter today?”

He quirked an eyebrow as Glacier’s muzzle flew shut and he nodded his head up and down rapidly with a signifying and emphatic ‘yes’. He then looked back over his shoulder and to the mare that seemed to still be fuming not only from how he had acted with her, but from how he was acting with this stallion as well. Realizing this, the stallion smiled a wicked smile at the mare and looked back to the record store pony. He motioned for the stallion to join his side and he did, sitting down next to Glacier as they surveyed the table again; Glacier pointing out the typewriter he was interested in buying from the stall-mare.

“This is the one I was interested in buying,” he said with a continuous smile on his muzzle. “It really caught my eye because of the name and the logo the company picked to resemble and speak for their products.”

The unicorn looked the machine over himself and smiled a goofy yet somehow sexy smile at the pegasus and Glacier could feel the tips of his ears going red and his face growing hot once more. It was a repeat offence of the incident in the Beat Goes On, except this time they were very much in the public eye out here—exposed as they were to any passersby. Glacier, however, was paying it no mind at all. He was sure that the unicorn stallion wasn’t either, considering he had asked him to go for a coffee with him in public as well. All that Glacier had to do was accept. But there was still a thought that was tugging at the back of his mind regardless of how the stallion conducted himself around him. Was this supposed to be a date or just a casual cup of coffee?

“It certainly looks like a nice machine,” the unicorn stallion said, giggling all the while. “I haven’t used one of these much, you know, due to my horn and all.” He tapped the appendage with a hoof rather absentmindedly before returning his attention to the typewriter before them. “But for an earth pony and a pegasus like yourself, I can see how it would be really beneficial to you guys. Writing with your mouth cannot be the most pleasant thing in all of Equestria to do.”

Glacier giggled out rather femininely before extending a wing and nudging the unicorn stallion lightly in a confirmative manner. “You wouldn’t be wrong. Especially for long writing sessions where I would be sitting down, hunched over a desk, writing out on parchment for four to five hours straight.”

“Goddesses, why would you need to be all hunched over for that long?” the stallion asked, shocked.

Not wanting to come off as self-righteous, Glacier rubbed the back of his head and answered him humbly. “Well, I tend to write silly, little stories. Nothing all too impressive, but using a typewriter makes all the difference.” The stallion perked back up and, without really realizing it, pointed out into the direction of his home. “And my typewriter back home is getting really old. It might just be time to retire the old boy. I won’t throw him out. I’m just going to put him away for now.”

The stallions eyes lit up, the smile on his muzzle only getting bigger at the mention of Glacier’s writing. “You write stories!” he beamed, trying really hard to not jitter up and down where he was planted. “I love reading!” He threw a foreleg out and wrapped it around Glacier’s back before pulling him in close. He whispered into his ear, “You have to let me read them sometime. I would love to read them.”

Glacier giggled but stifled it with a wing, muffling it. He blushed more. “Y-yeah,” he said, stuttering and tripping over his words. “T-that would be r-really good. I-I would love that.”

The stallion laughed and pulled Glacier close to him, their cheeks touching now. “Yay! I’m so happy I could scream.” The closeness didn’t last all too long however, because when the record store pony noticed he was holding Glacier a little too closely, he released him. Glacier almost fell to the ground but regained his balance and looked over to the chocolate brown unicorn with a skewed expression. He then laughed in return, smacking the unicorn in the side again with his wing.

“I’m glad you are so excited. That’s refreshing.” Far more refreshing than the way his father used to act about the whole thing.

“Of course I am really excited. It’s not every day that you meet somepony who writes stories.” He giggled and began to bounce a little where he sat. “Ponies think I’m weird because I love to read, but stories are some of the most interesting ways to express your emotions. Plus, I love me a really riveting story with adventure or romance in it. I love me some romance.”

Glacier looked away briefly, smirking, thinking about all the romance-type stories he had written before. He then looked back to the bouncing stallion next to him. “Yes…” Glacier said bluntly.

The stallion stopped bouncing and looked to Glacier with a curious look, cocking his head to the side with just as much curiosity. “Yes…? Yes to what?”

Glacier’s face burned brighter, his ear tips becoming noticeably red with embarrassment. “I would like to go for that coffee with you once I listen to that album.”

The stallion’s face seemed to get brighter as his bouncing stopped. He then stood and got really close to Glacier. Almost uncomfortably close, but Glacier didn’t mind it one bit. It actually made him feel even more comfortable with the stallion. Made him feel as if they were really indeed close to one another on a level far more complex than the physical.

“Oh my goodness, you will?!” The stallion gasped next, catching himself and he lowered his voice as to not sound as excited as he appeared to be.

“Yes. But on one condition…” Glacier smirked to himself again as the stallion’s face got ever more so excited once again.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Simple,” Glacier started, draping a wing over the unicorn’s withers. “You have to tell me what your name is.” The stallion look to Glacier a little confused but smiled all the same. He was probably wondering why telling him his name would be the condition. It seemed a little odd that something simple like that would be the condition. But, little did the stallion know, that that was the point all along. It was more to throw him off than anything else.

“Well,” the stallion began with a smile, “that certainly is an interesting and rather easy condition to meet.” He nudged the other stallion with a hoof and giggled in a huff of air. “Turn-Style,” he said

“Pardon?” Glacier said with the quirk of his brow.

“My name is Turn-Style,” the unicorn said

“Oh, that’s a really nice name—“

“Yes!” screamed the mare still fuming behind the stall counter. “It’s such a terrific name. Now, are you going to buy the typewriter, Mister Wind?”

“Oh,” stopped Glacier, looking away from the stallion and to the mare holding the machine in front of him with her pinkish magic. He gawked at the machine before pulling out his bag of bits. “How much is it?”

The mare looked to him with a scowl that read ‘she couldn’t really care any less’, but proceeded to read him out the price anyway. “It’s one-hundred fifty bits.” She sighed a rather prolonged sigh of displeasure before eyeing the stallion down again for his money.

Glacier counted out the bits he had in his wing and when he had counted out the appropriate number that pleased the fiery, redheaded mare behind the counter, she took hold of them in her magic and ripped them from his wings. She then placed the typewriter down on the ground in front of him and thanked him for his business.

“Doesn’t he get something to carry that in?” Turn-Style asked, surprised with the mare’s behaviour just now.

“Not in the slightest,” she stated matter-of-factly, her nose turned to the air. “And I think Mr. Wind knows exactly why he doesn’t. Mr. ‘Too Good for a Mare’ is just going to have to hold it on his back or in his saddlebags.”

Turn-Style looked Glacier’s saddlebag over well at that comment. “It looks like his bag will rip if he has to carry it in there. Can he please—“

“Absolutely not!” the mare bellowed. “He will just have to carry—“

“The least you can do is give him something to carry it in considering he just paid you good money for—“

“If you know what is good for you and your friend here, Mr. Glacier Colt-cuddling Wind,” she sneered in Glacier’s direction now, “I suggest you carry the typewriter in either your saddlebag or in your wings.”

Turn-Style was completely appalled with the mare’s actions now and he took to levitating the machine off of the ground and looked Glacier in the eyes. The stallion looked as if he were going to say something but couldn’t. The words were caught there in the back of his throat, and he was struggling to even move. His body was almost shutting down, causing him to become some sort of lifeless husk in the thrall of this mare. This volatile, disrespectful excuse for a mare.

“C’mon Glacier,” the stallion said, holding the typewriter firmly in his white magical influence. He leaned in and whispered to the stallion. This caused him to gasp and jump as he was pulled from staring at the livid mare behind the wooden counter. “You don’t need to deal with this behaviour.”

The stallion nodded and rose to his hooves before looking to Turn-Style with a frown on his face. “I know…”

He and the stallion than began their leave, walking around and past the typewriter booth and more towards the edge of the marketplace as a whole. The stallions then stopped on the ridge and Turn-Style apologised to Glacier. He told him that he didn’t mean for the mare to speak to him the way she did just because of what he asked him. But Glacier told him that it was alright, and that he would be just fine. All he needed to do was get home and do some writing and he would be just fine.

“If that’s the best thing for you right now, than I understand.” The stallion smiled a reassuring smile and pulled Glacier into another hug. It was certainly different to Glacier, being the one on the receiving end of a hug. Well, a hug that felt as intimate as this one did. He hadn’t been on the receiving end of one of those in years. About 8 years to be exact. And the hug hadn’t been from whom you would have suspected either.

“It is,” Glacier said, looking back into the marketplace from where they stood. “I just need to get my mind off of all this.” He then looked back to the stallion holding him closely. “Not you, of course. I would really like to have that coffee with you.”

“I’m happy to hear.” The stallion pulled him in closer, humming as he held him. “So your name is Glacier Wind, hmm?” Turn-Style questioned, remembering what the mare had called him.

“Yes.”

“That’s a very nice name too, Glacier.” He then pulled off of Glacier and looked down to him with a wavy, wry smile. “Now why don’t we get you home so you can do that writing you wanted to do?” He waggled the new typewriter in front of them both. “And you can use your new little boy right here,” he said in a sing-song tone.

Glacier ducked his head and blushed again at the stallion’s comment. It was quite perverse, but Glacier would have been lying if he said he didn’t like it in the slightest. He loved it actual. It caused a stirring in his—

“I would like that,” Glacier said as they both stood and started on their way down the pathway back to his home.

3…

Both stallions reached Glacier’s home promptly. Glacier reached for his key in his saddle bag while Turn-Style took in the scenery around Glacier’s home. To say the least the stallion was quite impressed with the way it all came together. Sure, he had seen homes on the edge of the Everfree before, but this one really blended in and looked to be part of the forestry itself. And it wasn’t too big either, so the vines that covered a vast majority of the front of the home didn’t look all that out of place either. It fit in just right.

“Your home is rather impressive,” Turn-Style said in a chipper tone.

Glacier looked to him with a look of questioning and a cocky yet goofy grin. “Yeah. Because a house on the edge of the Everfree Forest, inhabited by only one pony, and that pony happening to be some kind of weird story writing stallion doesn’t scream ‘hermit’ or anything like that. It screams ‘coolie mcdoolie stallion that everyone wants to be friends with’.” He giggled as he finally turned the tumbler in the door and pushed it open before walking in. He motioned Turn-Style to follow him inside and the stallion did, nervously so.

“A-are you sure I’m not imposing,” Turn-Style asked, following Glacier into his home. He stood on the mat at the front door and surveyed the area around him, taking in the state of Glacier’s living space. And it was surprising clean to him. He just figured a pony that spent so much of his time indoors writing stories would have a much messier home. That’s all.

“Oh, think nothing of it,” Glacier said, walking back over to Turn-Style once his desk was clean and his saddlebag away, hanging on the coatrack. “Now,” he extended his wings in a cradling position in front of himself, “I can take that heavy piece of metal off of you now.”

“Oh no,” Turn-Style said, pulling the typewriter higher into the air and away from Glacier completely. “I brought it here, I’m going to put it down where you want it to go. I offered the help after all. It’s only right I do this too.” He looked to Glacier’s awestricken face and giggled before sticking out his tongue in further resistance. “I mean it, too. So where do you want it?”

Glacier turned and pointed to his desk midway down his home. “There, just on the desk.” He then walked away and let the stallion go about placing the typewriter on his desk for him. Entering the kitchen, Tur-Style called out to Glacier and asked just what he was doing. This caused Glacier to giggle out loud, however the stallion it would have been directed at could not hear it.

“Do you like tea, Turn-Style?”

Walking up to the kitchen himself and peeking inside, Turn-Style stuck out his tongue again at Glacier. “No need to be so formal Glacier,” he said with a chuckle. “Just call me Style.”

“Okie dokie,” Glacier said with a sheepish chuckle of his own. “So do you like tea, Style?”

“As a matter-of-fact, I do.”

Walking into the kitchen completely now, Glacier offered Style to sit down at the dinning-room table. The stallion accepted, turning the chair around so that he may continue to speak to Glacier as he readied a kettle of water for the stove. They talked all the while Glacier got everything prepared, Style never taking his eyes off of the stallion before him. He even watched Glacier intently as the pegasus hovered to grab two teacups and saucers. But his gazing had to stop once Glacier turned around and the stallion jumped off of the chair to turn it back around with his magic so he could sit at the table proper.

Both of the stallions sat there, talking over various stories that Glacier had written and which ones had been selected for publication. One of them Style even recognised, saying that he had read it once before, but he had never seen any of Glacier’s stories afterwards. He then apologised for making it sound like the stallion’s work wasn’t very popular, but Glacier had to agree with a chuckle and a scratch of his mane. His work really wasn’t all that popular. He was surprised ponies even turned up to the few book signings he did.

Come to think of it, it’s been over a year since his last. That might be a sign as well…

“Do not worry about it,” Glacier said, raising a hoof to stop Style’s apologies. “My work isn’t really all that notable anyways, so it definitely doesn’t upset me.” He placed his hoof down on the table and circled the wood for a moment before sighing. “Like, I wish it was. I’m just not talented enough to get the notoriety that some of my favourite authors get, is all.”

“Hey!” Style interrupted with a slight elevation in voice. “Don’t say that about your work. If I’m remembering correctly the story I read was written three years ago, correct?” Glacier nodded slowly. “Then that means that you would have only gotten better since then. And that story was already really good to begin with. I mean, the mare in that story seemed like she would never find her perfect match, and then she met him on the Canterlot Bridge… Where she was going to jump off… That is some heavy stuff to read. But it was written so well. And the mare was saved from a horrible fate by the love of a very special stallion. It was also very beautiful.”

“I wouldn’t go as far as to say that the story was beautiful,” Glacier protested, blushing again. Albeit this time it was impossible to see due to the lighting of his home and the fact that his ears were completely splayed back.

“Oh, but I would. I loved that story. And it…helped me with a little trouble I was going through myself.” The stallion looked sad, but perked back up as he seen Glacier begin to reach his hoof out across the table in support. He pulled his own away however and apologised for getting so sentimental about something that shouldn’t have been brought up in the first place. That it all meant nothing now.

Glacier, being the semi-smart stallion that he is, opted to leave it alone. He felt that prying would only make it worse. And that if Style actually did want to talk to him about what had happened, that he would tell him of his own volition.

“It’s alright, Style. Don’t worry about it. You don’t need to mention it if you don’t want to.”

“Thanks Glacier…” The stallion looked up to him with a forced smile.

“No problem Style.”

After about twenty or so more minutes of conversation and after the teacups had been emptied of their tea, Style thanked Glacier for being so kind as to let him in his home and haring with him the delicious tea they just had. Glacier just looked at him with the same smile he had before, when he first talked to him in the record store, and walked him to the door.

Style collected himself on the way, knowing a lot more about Glacier than he did previously, and it was only making him even more excited for the time they would spend together at the Fresh Brew Café in the next few days to come. It was giving him something really sweet to look forward to.

“I have to thank you again for what you did back there in the marketplace, Style.”

The stallion stopped as Glacier opened the door, and he looked over to him with a smile just as bright as Glacier’s own. “Think nothing of it. It was the right thing for me to do. What that mare did was disrespectful and despicable. I should hope that nopony gives her anymore business with behaviour like that.” He then stuck out a hoof for Glacier to bump before he finally parted ways for now.

“And I agree with that completely.” Glacier returned the gesture, bumping hooves with Style.

Style nodded in a silent response to Glacier’s agreement and walked outside. He made his way down the steps and onto the twisty pathway, before turning around and waving to Glacier. “I’ll see you soon, Glacier!”

“See you soon Style!”

Glacier smiled brighter than he has ever before in the past eight years of his life and closed the door.

Chapter 4: "Blew"

Chapter 4
“Blew”

The next morning, Glacier woke with a start. He hoped out of bed with a vigor he hadn’t had in years. He sauntered to the bathroom and looked in the mirror with a smile. There was a twinkle in his eye, one that could only be placed as happiness and youth. And it remained all the while he showered and brushed his teeth.

Walking down into the centre stage of his home, the stallion’s stomach began to growl something fierce. “Note to self: don’t forget to buy food and eat due to a cute stallion,” Glacier thought out loud, subconsciously making his way into the kitchen. He stopped in front of the fridge and threw the door open, his eyes laying smackdab on a scrumptious-looking red delicious apple.

Snatching it with a wing and kicking the fridge door closed on his exit, Glacier took to his desk next; the New Moon typewriter still sitting atop it’s wore veneer. Taking a bite of the apple, he placed it down on the empty portion of his desk for later. He then looked for the album he had originally placed there, sheltered and covered up by the paper he had been using for his novel, but it was nowhere to be found. Instead of finding the sealed album, the shrink wrap begging to be removed and the album played in its entirety, Glacier found a little note. It was a note that the stallion had missed last night before he went to bed. More than likely due to the fact that he had not written the entire night after Style’s departure.

He picked up the note in his wing and read off the finely written words (clearly written with the use of unicorn magic). The note read:

‘I got the album ready for you and on your turntable, Glacier
Hope you will listen to it soon. I can’t wait to talk to you about it
Your new friend,

Turn-Style
P.S. I work every day this week besides Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday. Just a heads up.’

Glacier quirked his head as he finished reading the note and placed it back down on his desk to deal with properly later (he had some plans that included the inspiration of said note). Turning to now take in his common-room in totality, Glacier gazed across the room to where his turntable lay. There, atop the surface of a small bookcase, was his Music Hall turntable. The twelve inch piece of vinyl engraved with the songs of this band Glacier had never even heard of laid out on the platter, just dying to be played out loud. The jacket of the album was even placed on top of the plastic dust cover, shrink wrap completely removed, now no doubt residing in the nearby wastebasket at Glacier writing desk. He looked to the little bin, and there it was, all crumpled up at the bottom. An ever more prevalent sign that Glacier should just give in and listen to the album already.

So, listening to the voice building in the back of his mind, Glacier made his way to the turntable at the far end of the room; the machine lay under his common-room window. He tore the curtains open to let what little light of day would come streaming through into the room. Following, the stallion looked back down to the cover of the album he had purchased. He read the title aloud to himself again and cocked his head to the side, thinking about what Style had told him about the group back at The Beat Goes On. He was sure he was going to like this one.

Glacier removed the album jacket from the dust cover and deposited it on the nearby coffee table behind him. Lifting the cover up, Glacier glanced down at the circular piece of vinyl before flicking his turntable on with a click of the power switch. The lights that shone on the little dots on the platters edge sprang to life, and Glacier let out a harmonious sigh of relief. He smiled. Pressing a little button on the machine next caused the platter to come to life as well, it now starting its thirty-three and a third revolution journey in a perpetual loop of nothing but pure musical gratification. Well, gratifying once the needle of the stylus touched the outer rim of the album, that is.

Glacier then turned a knob on the front of the unit, and low tone crackles of static and noise filled the room for but a moment before silencing. Two small bookshelf speakers sat at either end of the window, resting atop the shelves of two large bookcases. The cases rose from the floor to the roof and were covered in various albums and books that Glacier had purchased for himself over the years. More impressing than the books, of course, was the amount of albums that the stallion had grown to accumulate. About three-hundred different albums, all ranging in genre and general taste were there, lining the shelves in their weight in presence and sound. It was very much like him to listen to music while he wrote. And even though he was a writer himself, Glacier didn’t read all that much as he would like to. Perhaps he would change that attitude one day. It never hurt to be a prolific reader…like Style.

Using the lever near the rear of the ‘S’ shaped tonearm, Glacier rose it into the ‘que’ position before using a wing to bring the arm over the beginning edge of the album. He then flicked the lever and let the stylus, mounted to the cartridge at the front end of the tonearm, fall onto the outer edge of the album. The speakers shot to life again as the intense sound of a hiss and then a pop filled the air before a quieter hiss fell in its immediate place. And sooner than not, the tone of the first song came into the room. It hit hard and heavy, and Glacier nodded to himself as he thought about what Style had said one last time. He smiled again.

Walking away from the turntable as a wail came from a guitar in the first song, Glacier looked to the album on the coffee table, before flicking it over rather quickly with a rather fine-tuned gesture of his wing. He stared at the back of the album, the track-listing glaring back to him just as aggressively as the music raging through his speakers. The title of the first song was interesting to the stallion, but he shrugged it off as most song titles are rather interesting or weird in concept and design choice. But once the song was over and done with, he was sure that he would understand why the song was called what it was.

“Pretty good so far,” Glacier hummed to himself as he walked back over to his writing desk. He pulled his chair out and hopped back up onto the seat, settling himself in as he readied a paper in his newly acquired typewriter. He spun the knob on the end of the platen and the piece of paper—as white as snow—was slowly fed into the machine, it coming up and around the opposite side of the platen. Then, placing the paper fingers down on the sheet, he was ready to start work. Adjusting the margins to what he liked, the stallion then began to pound out word after word as the sounds of the newly discovered band blasted out of his bookshelf speakers behind him.

He worked on for what felt like hours but was really just fifteen minutes, the grandfather clock to his left going tick-tock slowly and monotonously. The words kept coming, the hammers of the typewriter now smacking against the page to the beat of the song playing through the speakers now. His mindset and tone began to follow in tune with the music, and sooner than not the stallion had finished over ten sheets to add to his collection of inky ones. The bare core of his apple was now in the wastebasket as well.

Throwing his eyes up to the carriage of the machine, the bell of the typewriter went off for the eleventh time. Glacier released the locking mechanism on the unit and tore the paper from its roost, scanning its contents over with a critical eye. It looked good enough to him. And, with a flick of a hoof, the eleventh page of the day had been completed, it now lying on the pile of over one-hundred pages.

This manuscript was certainly the stallion’s most thorough and extensive yet.

Smiling as he seen the pile that he had finally created after six months hard work, Glacier sighed deeply. His exhale was ragged and jittery. He was in a state of pure bliss, content with how much work he had now—

Pop!

The stallion jumped from his reclined position, his eyes shooting open as he craned his head back to look at his record player. It was in this moment that the stallion realized that this side of the album had finally finished, and that the popping was just the tell-tale sign of the stylus snapping snuggly into the end groove. Each revolution eliciting another pop, though each one was far quieter than the initial one.

Slipping off of his writing chair, Glacier made his way back towards the turntable in question. He rose the tonearm with the use of the tonearms lever, and placed it back in its resting position before flipping the album over with the use of his wings. He placed the tonearm over the edge of the second side of the album and lowered the needle to the vinyl once more. There was a crackle-hiss and a slight pop that emanated from his speakers again. But sooner than not, the loud hiss was replaced with that of the quieter one from the first side. The stallion smiled and began his walk back over to his desk as the first song of the second side came blaring out of the speakers. It was hard, just like the others, and Glacier was sure that this side would impress just like the first had. He could hardly wait.

Sitting back down, Glacier took to inserting another paper into his typewriter, and began to hammer out many more words to join that of his first slew. The page count grew and grew as each song on this side of the album came and went. The stallion would have to check over their names after listening to them and have another thorough listening, just to be sure that he had taken in the fullness of the music he would be discussing with Style.

He finished another ten pages before he opted for a break for the day.

The needle came to a rest just like it had on the first side of the album, the same old loud pop emanating out as it snapped into the end groove. It bellowed out almost silently with each continuous revolution of the disk until Glacier halted it.

Removing the needle from the disk, Glacier picked up the disk in one wing and flipped it with the combined efforts of them both. He placed ‘Side A’ upright once more, and readied the needle above the rim. He smiled. Placing the need back down on the first side, Glacier took in the sound as the needle settled into the groove once more and then went and sat down on his couch—head hung over the backrest, eyes closed.

As he got comfortable, the sounds of the first song sung back out through his home, the same grungy sound and wailing guitar greeting him with open arms and blissful ecstasy. His smile grew wider as he thought about all he and Style would have to talk about on their next encounter. He couldn’t wait.

Chapter 5: Love Buzz

Chapter 5
Love Buzz

“Do you really think that that is a good choice, Glacier?” Ice Stream questioned with a cocky smirk. She poked at the page with a hoof next. “I mean, are you really going to have Sterling propose to Amethyst? Like, they have only been going out for how long now? Two…three months?”

Glacier halted, face-hoofing with an arduous sigh. He then looked back to the mare with a look of displeasure plastered all over his features. His brow twitched slightly as he noticed the mare smiling at him, beaming practically, as if to taunt him. Who knows? She could have been. But in a totally friendly manner, however. “Have you ever been in love, Ice?” Glacier questioned back, momentarily ignoring the slew of questions Ice had thrown at him.

This caused the mare to stop for but a moment, the smile on her face fading a little. But it returned just as promptly as it had wavered. “Oh, absolutely.” She giggled. “Just like anypony else really; I had fallen in love with a mare. Except that mare didn’t love me back.” She poked the stallion in the side, eliciting an agitated groan from him as he looked back to his paper and began typing out the preparations for Sterling’s proposal. “But you move on, Glacier. You know?”

“I do. Trust me Ice, I do.” The stallion sneered to himself, though he knew that his friend was more than right. He had to move on—which he did. He really did. He never let anything well on the inside, manifesting into an unadulterated hate for anyone in his life. Never.

“You okay Glacier?” Ice asked, placing a hoof on her friend’s withers. “I’m sorry if that was a little too far.”

Ice splayed her ears back against her head as Glacier stopped again and looked back to her with an ease in his eyes. And it only softened further as he noticed the look of sorrow and regret continue to build up stronger on Ice’s face. “I’m okay. Yeah.”

“Are you sure?” She continued to hold her hoof on his withers, massaging him slightly. “I’m sorry.”

Glacier threw his ears back as well, and a sheepish smile graced him next. “Don’t be sorry. I’m over analysing things again. Don’t be sorry for something that isn’t your fault.” The stallion turned, facing his friend properly next, before placing his own hoof upon her shoulder. He held it there and looked her in the eyes with a compassion that only a true friend could give. He patted her shoulder next, giggling to himself like a giddy, little colt.

“Perhaps I’ve been overthinking a lot of things recently,” Glacier stated. Finally pulling his hoof from his friend’s shoulder, Glacier turned back away and removed his sheet of parchment from the typewriter. And, without even looking at it, he crumpled it up in his hooves and tossed it into his wastebasket; the wad smacking against and slightly circling the rim before falling in.

“W-why did you do that?” Ice gasped out, confusedly.

“Ice… There are a lot of things in this world that have been rather cruel to me. But there are two ponies—well three now—that haven’t been. One, being my own mother. Two, being you. And three being Style.” The stallion huffed out a sigh. It was a painfully obvious sigh, but Ice refused to even touch it. “And I’m neither going to rush things with him, nor will I with my story. I’m going to take your advice—for the one-millionth time. I’m going to take things slow and see where things lead me, both with him and with my story. There is no point in rushing something that feels right already. I’ll just end up wrecking it in the end if I do.”

Glacier turned and jumped off of his chair, a few pages of his manuscript fluttering slightly upon the desk in the miniscule breeze. Ice went to speak again but stopped immediately when Glacier turned one-eighty and looked her dead in the eyes, conviction and determination burning in his own. She “eeped” slightly.

“Now,” Glacier began with an exaggerated tone of voice, “I have a rather handsome stallion waiting on me.”

2…

Glacier considered getting dressed up for the first meeting with Turn-Style but decided against it on the grounds that it would be too forward and might turn the stallion off. He truthfully didn’t know if this stallion was indeed into him. All he knew was that this certain pony was really kind, caring, and was trying to be a friendly sort.

So, throwing his collared purple dress shirt into a wrinkly pile on the floor, Glacier made his way down to the common-room. Ice Stream was still standing in the middle of the room, looking Glacier over with a critical eye. She smirked and walked over to him at the foot of the stairs. She then proceeded to lick the bottom of her hoof and rub it against his cheek. “There!” she exclaimed, chuckling to herself. “All handsome and ready to impress.”

“Yeah,” Glacier huffed, rolling his eyes in slight annoyance, “totally ready now that I have your spittle all in my fur.” He used a hoof to wipe his cheek down in an attempt to rub out the spit that Ice had thoroughly soaked into his fur.

“Oh, you stop your fussing, Mister,” Ice chastised with a waggle of her brow. “Your mommy isn’t here to help make sure you’re ready and presentable for your stallion friend, so I’ll just have to do that one for you then.” Glacier smiled and Ice smiled in return. She then wacked the stallion on the rear, causing him to yelp out like a little filly. “Go get him, tiger.”

Glacier pouted back to her, waddling to the door as he massaged his soon to be bruised flank. He stuck out his tongue as he pulled the door open and stepped outside. “I’ll make sure to go get him.” He smirk as he slammed the door closed with a wing, and made his way down the dirt path to Ponyville with a slight chuckle to himself.

Ice Stream, now surrounded with the quiet of Glacier’s empty home, walked over to his bookshelf and surveyed the few books that resided there. She picked up a rather short looking novel, convinced that her friend wouldn’t be out too long, and would be back home before late, ready to hang out with her and tell he all about how his date went. The mare then settled in on the couch and flicked the book open in her magic, sighed in content, and snuggled in for the foreseeable evening.

3…

Glacier got to the Fresh Brew Café in a timely manner. He would have checked the time to make sure that he wasn’t late, but he lacked a watch. Something that most ponies take for granted until it’s gone and they have almost no way to tell what time it was. However, Glacier was certain that he had not taken too long of a time getting ready and walking here, so he opted to ignore the time and, instead, just go into the café and wait for Turn-Style to arrive.

He took the first step upon the stoop of the establishment before a suave, low voice caught the stallion off-guard. He smirked, realizing just whom it was. Turning about face the door, Glacier looked upon the stallion that he had agree to come see. He looked just as radiant as ever, a glimmer in his hazel brown eyes, and the way his black and white mane was styled made him all the more handsome. This stallion was certainly a looker—at least, in Glacier’s eyes he was. Everypony perceives the ponies they find attractive differently than the rest of Equestria.

Shaking his head clean of the thoughts he was having of the stallion before they turned impure, Glacier greeted him and the stallion returned the greeting in kind. Glacier then extended a wing and pushed the door to the café open, motioning for the other stallion to enter before him. A slight blush could be seen to appear on Turn-Style’s face as he passed Glacier on the stoop and entered the establishment. Glacier followed him closely thereafter.

As the two made it into the café together, Glacier pointed out the table that he and Ice Stream usually found themselves sitting at and promptly offered for him to join him there. The stallion agreed, following glacier to the table and seating himself across from his friend.

Turn-Style watched as Glacier sat down across from him and a smile spread across his muzzle. The slightly clumsy way Glacier went about moving himself in the world he lived in kind of fascinated the unicorn stallion. It had ever since the first time they had met, and it was most certainly showing itself now—the way he giggled slightly was nothing short of obvious when Glacier almost fell out of the seat he had just sat in either.

“Heh, sorry,” Glacier all but snorted out as he readjusted himself in his seat. He threw Turn-Style a wry smile and a slight blush began to grow on his cheeks. Turn-Style took notice. However, he did nothing of the sort in telling the stallion.

“It’s okay. Happens all the time to me, too.” Turn-Style chuckled again, this time more to himself than in a hearty group-laugh. “This horn here…” He gestured up to and tapped the pointed horn protruding very prominently from his head. “This thing is a tad bit weird to move around with, if I do say so myself. And for most adolescence it is as well; being as the horn grows most during the teen years and it gets a tad bit weirder when maneuvering.”

“I didn’t know that,” Glacier stated in an almost bewildered tone.

“What?” Style giggled. “That unicorns are really clumsy during adolescence?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know that. I always figured you guys kind of…”

“…Used magic to help with that later on?”

“Yeah…” Glacier looked away, slightly defeated from assuming the obvious. His ears splayed back across his head, and his friend sighed and chuckled in a rather reassuring way. Glacier looked up and seen that Style was looking him down rather empathetically.

“Hey,” Turn-Style said, extending a hoof and placing it down on the table betwixt them with a slight tap. “There is nothing wrong assuming that. Most unicorns are incredibly lazy, due to our frequent use and abuse of magic, so it’s not wrong for you to have come to that conclusion.”

Glacier looked back into Turn-Style’s eyes, though his ears stayed stationed firmly against the side of his head. “You shouldn’t say stuff like that. Unicorns can do many great things with their magic, and just because you use it a lot does not mean you guys are abusing it…” Glacier looked away from Style once move, setting himself to pawing a hoof at the surface of the table slightly.

“What’s the matter Glacier?” Turn-Style asked.

Glacier remained quiet for but a moment, half-looking at Style, half-looking out the window and the ponies directly behind him. He then spoke, his voice almost a whisper. “I’ve always kind of wished that I was a unicorn,” he said. “It’s so cool being able to do all the things you guys do with your magic, and it most certainly is not something that makes you lazy. It makes you all unique.” Style was about to say something, but Glacier cut him off as he spoke softly again. “Just like my wings,” he continued, extending them a little at his sides. “My wings allow me to fly and to get to places a lot quicker—even faster than unicorns who can’t do advanced teleportation spells—but that doesn’t make me lazy. Nor does it make you lazy. It makes us both unique. Heck, earth ponies are unique with how they use their own magic to essentially speak to the earth beneath our hooves and bring about a plentiful amount of food for all of pony kind. We are all very special and unique in our own ways, and neither of the things that makes us unique makes us lazy. We just do things differently, that’s all.”

“Huh?”

“What’s the matter?” Glacier asked, quirking his brow slightly.

“Nothing,” Style defended, placing his hooves up. He shook them slightly as if to wave off any air he might have created about them. “It’s just…that is some incredibly insightful stuff. I have never looked at it that way before. Though, I like to just call myself and other unicorns lazy.” The stallion chuckled cheekily, before tapping his hoof on the table rather hard. “It’s kinda fun to do.”

Glacier giggled at what Style had said. Sure it wasn’t nice to hear the stallion talk down about him and other unicorns like that, but it was nice that he did it as a sort of joke to both himself and all other unicorns as well. It was also done playfully, and not done aggressively. That made it a lot better to hear as well.

“Well that is certainly a different way to look at that,” Glacier said with a small smile. “I’m glad that you can make jokes about yourself though; that’s a very important thing to be able to do.” The stallion placed his hoof next to Style’s upon the surface of the table. Style returned the gesture by bumping the side of his hoof into Glacier’s own. This got a little chuckle from the frosty-blue stallion. “I can make fun of myself too, just my friend, Ice, doesn’t really like when I do. She tries to regulate me when it comes to that. Because, even if you know that it is a joke, the joke soon becomes real, and your mind begins to believe it as fact about yourself. And then you are stuck thinking negatively about yourself in the end…”

“Well your friend is very kind to do that for you.” Style smiled and chuckled a little.

“Yeah, she really is a good friend.” Glacier grabbed at the back of his mane and chuckled nervously before looking down to the table again. He shuffled his hoof on the surface of the table, thinking deeply to himself.

“So…” Style placed his hoof on Glacier’s own, attempting to pull the stallion from his internal thoughts. “How was the Neighvana album?” he asked.

The stallion snapped upright, looking to Style with wide eyes. He didn’t react to the hoof on his own; he was practically unaware that it was even there. All he could do was stare into the other stallion’s radiant brown eyes. That was, until Style asked Glacier the question again.

“Huh?” Glacier said, blushing deeply.

“The Neighvana album you bought the other day, silly.” Style giggled rather teasingly.

“Oh, right…” Glacier glanced away from the stallion, noticing the waitress from the other day approaching. Sweet Tea, he believed her name to be. The mare sauntered over rather quickly, a slight sway in her hips as she moved about like a dancer around a few tables in the middle of the café floor. She continued to bob and weave around a few more tables before making it to Glacier and Style proper.

“H-Hello again!” the mare chirped at Glacier. “Nice to see you back so soon.” Glacier smiled a sort of stressed smile, however the mare did not notice. She then turned her attention to Style, smiling warmly at to him next. “And how are you today, sir?”

Style smiled back a rather natural smile, almost looking to be beaming as he looked over the energetic mare. His smile looked drop-dead handsome. He always looked really handsome whenever he smiled. Glacier was sure that the stallion knew this, because he tended to smile around him a lot. Either that, or Glacier was just reading into it far too much. He could have been interested in the beautiful mare who was about to serve them. Then again, that would have been reading way too much into it too, so best to ignore it.

He glanced at Glacier with a crook of his brow before responding to the mare’s inquiry. His smile never faltered. “I’m doing well today. How about yourself, Miss…?” The stallion looked for a nametag and, sweet Celestia, he found one. On her chest, right-hand side, sat a nametag. “Sweet Tea?”

“Oh, yes sir,” Sweet Tea practically beamed. “I am doing just fine today.” The mare looked Glacier back over rather quickly. Noticing an annoyed look becoming present all over his muzzle, the mare decided that it, perhaps, would be wise to proceed with taking their orders. Sweet Tea materialized her note pad as if out of thin air and held it there, pen to the pad, ready to take the two stallions’ orders. Glacier went first.

“I’ll have a coffee, three cream and three sugar.”

The mare looked to Style.

“I’ll have the same,” he said, beaming across the table to Glacier.

The waitress scribbled the order down quickly on her notepad, saluted in thin air, and made her way off towards the barista in the kitchen area to complete their order promptly. Glacier nor Style even noticed the mare leave. They were too distracted looking at one another. That is, until Style took to breaking that with a slight chuckle and cough.

“Well,” the stallion started with a strained cough, “how was the album, Glacier?”

“Oh, it was fantastic,” Glacier said with a clear smile. It stretched ear-to-ear and looked rather adorable. “It was just the right length too; helped me get lots of writing done. I especially loved the song ‘Fluoride the Barber’. That one was really great.”

“Oh!” Style exclaimed, leaning forward over the table some. “I love that one too. ‘About a Mare’ is a really good one too.”

Glacier giggled and Style followed suit, giggling himself. Then Glacier locked eyes with the stallion. He found himself getting lost in the eyes of the colt before him again. There was something in the luminescence of his eyes, the soul that lie beneath. He was a genuine stallion, Glacier could tell. He was a kind-hearted, sweet, and innocent—

“‘Love Buzz’ is a really good one too,” Style said, snapping Glacier out of the slight reverie that he was having. It knocked the stallion back enough to notice that their beverages had finally arrived—the mare already gone. More likely than not a result of his clear infatuation with Style. So much so that he never even realized that the mare had returned with their drinks in tow.

Still though, Glacier picked up his large coffee cup and proceeded to take a drink before speaking. “That one was really good too.” Glacier smacked his lips as he took in the flavour of his beverage of choice with a smile. Style smiled back, taking a sip of his own coffee as well.

“So what did you think of the album as a whole?” asked Style with a slight quirk of his brow. What did it say to you? Was there anything on the album that really spoke to you on a more intimate level?”

Glacier sat there in thought for a moment. He looked to the ceiling as he attempted to think of just one song that might have spoken to him rather deeply during his listening sessions. And it wasn’t until he started to reminisce of how the song sounded in his head, that the stallion actually could place it. “Now this one is probably going to sound really weird to you once I say it…”

“Ah, no. It couldn’t be that bad. Tell me.”

“I really liked the song ‘Negative Creep’. That one was really good.”

Style sat there for a moment, blinked at Glacier in a rather precarious way, and then quirked the out edge of his lip in such a way that it caused Glacier for brief alarm. He steeled himself for a chastising retort from his new stallion friend, though the response he got was all but that. It was a kind titter, a chortle, a giggle. It was the light-hearted laugh of a friend.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed about liking a song with a funky-sounding name. There are a lot of songs like that. In fact, there is this one song by the band Oingo Boingo called ‘Little Fillies’. It’s a satire song, though most Canterlot Nobles didn’t see it like that when the band first released the song. They thought the band had some interests that were…questionable.”

“Heh, I can only imagine,” Glacier chuckled out nervously. It was a rather anxious laugh.

“Ever heard of Oingo Boingo before?” Style asked.

“Actually…” Glacier trailed off, taking another sip of his coffee, “I haven’t heard of them before.”

Style’s eyes lit up and grew to a comical size. He inhaled sharply and exhaled before stating, “I like them. I mean, they are pretty good.” The stallion looked to be jittering up and down in place now, clearly excited by the fact Glacier had never ever heard of this group. But he seemed to realize that he was overreacting, given the growing smirk on Glacier’s muzzle, and toned in back a bit.

Sitting back in his seat, Style fixed his positioning and leaned a hoof over the table lazily, clearly trying to act as cool as a cucumber. However it just came off as cute, causing Glacier to giggle again, the smirk just turning even brighter.

“W-what?” Style asked, almost embarrassedly.

“Nothing,” Glacier said, looking away from Style to try and avoid blushing too hard but it did little to nothing in the way of actually hiding it. In fact it only made Style try harder to see just why Glacier was making slight attempts to shelter his face.

“No—that must be something,” Style protested, prodding his hoof at the table nervously. He enveloped his coffee in his magical aura and took a sip, trying to calm his nerves, but it was doing little-to-nothing to actually help the situation on his part. “I’m sorry if I got a little too overzealous about the group. I think that they have a few really interesting and original songs.”

“Like what?” Glacier said, giggling a little to himself as he watched Style kind of stutter over his words in the rather cute way he usually did. At least, how he does around Glacier anyhow. Perhaps the stallion was just looking too much into that one too. I mean, Style may just be a really energetic and happy pony, eager to help all of his friends—old and new.

Style paused for a moment and mulled over the possibilities he could mention. He sat there for what felt to himself as hours but was in fact only mere moments. “Well, ‘Little Fillies’ is just one of those few songs. They have another song, ‘Weird Science’, that is really good as well. The song is super catchy and has to do with magical incantations and arcane magic.”

“Hmm,” Glacier hummed out, looking at the large and rather cute smile on Style’s muzzle. He loved the little quirk it made at the corners; it was more than cute—it was damn adorable. There had been a few stallions in Glacier’s life that had made him feel the way Style was making him feel now, but none of them had done it as effortlessly as Style manages to do it. It only caused butterflies to form in the pit of Glacier’s stomach as he continued to fall deeper and deeper into conversation with the other stallion. “That seems really cool though,” the stallion finished.

“That it is,” Style giggled. “I love when groups do neat and innovative things with their work.”

“That I do too,” Glacier retorted, chuckling a little from Style’s rather feminine giggle. “There are plenty of bands that have done innovative things with their music that I just love.” The stallion leaned back in his seat and looked Style dead in his beautiful, hazel brown eyes. He cocked a smile, the grin stretching from ear-to-ear. “Now that only leaves one question now,” Glacier concluded.

“And that is?”

“Which group is your absolute favourite?”

4…

“Oh my goddesses!” Glacier semi-shouted as he and Style exited the Fresh Brew Café. “I’d have to say that your taste in music is rather refined.” Glacier giggled thereafter.

“I like to keep my tastes open to different sounds and perspectives on music. Music is only as good as the ponies who listen to it.”
The two walked on for a little while longer, laughing and chatting with one another all the while. Style stayed relatively close to Glacier, their coats practically touching as they trotted along the dirt roads of Ponyville. The two didn’t really take notice of their closeness however, as they were lost enjoying the company the other provided.

Sooner than not, both of the stallions bumped into one another, their extreme closeness now becoming ever more prevalent than before. They stopped for a moment near the outskirts of Ponyville; they were little over ten metres from the road that lead to Glacier’s home. They turned their heads with a slight cock, looking into the eyes of the other. Style was the first to smile. A smile from Glacier followed suit.
They continued to stare at one another. But there was something Glacier was starting to notice about the stallion’s beautiful, brown eyes. They just so happened to appear as though they were getting closer to him. And as the stallion was about to take a step back to take in just what was going on, Style tipped his head to the side and leaned down and kissed Glacier on the lips. Their muzzles met rather softly, Style trying to not scare Glacier away with the forwardness of the kiss, but there was a heat there that Glacier could sense all the same. It was a heat that reminded of passion. A heat that reminded him of love. A heat that warmed his heart and lighted and brightened his spirits. It was the heat of another stallion; the touch all so familiar to him, but all so alien at the same time. It had been so long, after all. Years. Glacier was shell-shocked, but he accepted the kiss in kind, pushing back into it with the same softness Style had shown him.

Both stallions stood like this for what felt like a millennia.

Breaking away from the kiss, Glacier looked up to Style, the size difference becoming a lot more noticeable now than ever. He blushed heavily, Style giggling as he noticed the look on the stallion’s face. He giggled even more as Glacier tried to hide his face like a scared, little colt.

“What’s the matter, Glacier?” Style reached out for the stallion, trying to console him on what had just happened.

“N-Nothing,” Glacier protested. “I-It’s just that I haven’t really kissed another stallion in a long time. Kinda weird that it’s happening again.”

“Hehe, that’s okay,” Style countered. “Nothing wrong with being a little out of practice with the whole thing. In all honesty, I was expecting you to take the kiss a little differently than this.”

“How come?” Glacier asked, sitting on his flanks across from Style.
Style then sat on his flanks as well. “Because of what that mare said the other day. She definitely wasn’t the nicest of ponies, but I thought because of the way you reacted, you might have been upset because you were not interested in stallions and were offended. But there was the other part of my brain fighting back, thinking that you might like stallions because of how you reacted to what she said to you.”

“Well, to be honest… I’m definitely interested in stallions.” Glacier hung his head low, a sigh escaping him. “I’m sorry…”

“What are you sorry for?” Style rose to his hooves and walked over next to Glacier before seating himself down next to the stallion yet again. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

With a flick of his ear, Glacier looked up to Style. The taller stallion was just so handsome, so kind, and caring. It was incredibly hard for Glacier to not tell the stallion the truth. And if he tried, he figured that Style would be able to tell that he was not telling the truth anyhow, and would have questioned it. So, sucking it up, puffing up his chest, and taking a series of deep breaths, Glacier decided he would tell Style a story so few had ever heard. It was a rather simplistic story, a story that most stallions in Glacier and Style’s horseshoes would have experienced. A story of fearing to be yourself. A story of fearing for letting your family see the real you. A story of what one particular pony had done when you told them about your dirty, little secret.

“I had no idea…” Style said, leaning his head on the top of Glacier’s own. “I had a somewhat rocky experience myself, but nothing like that.” Style took a deep breath, brushing up closely to Glacier once more. He wrapped his left foreleg around the stallion, attempting to keep him calm and collected. “It’s all okay though.”

Glacier continued to look at the dirt road, his eyes welling over with the sheen of fresh tears. He hadn’t cried tears like these since the first time he had ever brought a colt-friend over to meet his family. And a trickling of tears soon met the dirt, the stallion reliving the pain of the memory in full. “I don’t—“

“Please, Style, it is all alright.” Glacier looked up to the stallion, who pulled off of his head so that he may look up into his eyes. The tears were beginning to stream down Glacier’s cheeks and matted his fur just like Ice had this morning. His eyes were red, and he looked like he was going to breakdown and wail now.

To stop what he feared, Style leaned down and kissed the stallion once more. Glacier melted into the kiss, letting Style take complete control over the situation. It was nice to meet such a kind and caring colt that wanted to spend time with him for who he is on the inside, not what he is. It was nice to have a stallion there that cared about his feelings and didn’t just pretend to care about them.

Style pulled away this time.

“That was—thank you,” Glacier said.

“Think nothing of it. There is no need to thank me for something that should have been done. You’re far too adorable to cry like that.” Style used his magic to wipe Glacier’s eyes dry.

“Sorry…” Glacier smiled before looking back down to his hooves.

Raising his head back up in his magic, Style looked Glacier in the eyes, a smile spreading on his face. “Now, why don’t I walk my cute, little date home, hmm?”

Giggling like a little filly, Glacier nodded his head emphatically. He then rose to his hooves and so did Style. The two then leaned against one another and made off towards and down the pathway that lead to Glacier’s little home.

Chapter 6: Can I Watch?

Chapter 6
Can I Watch?

Arriving at Glacier’s home, both stallions walked up the short staircase to the front door of his abode. The frosty-blue pegasus stallion rummaged around in his wings for his house key, remembering that he had hid it in his feathers as not to carry his saddle bag with him on his venture into town for his now known to be date with Style. He also stowed his bits away in his feathers as well, a little baggy held beneath his right wing the entire evening. But those bits were spent now, and the only thing really hiding inside his feathers now being his key.

So with a lightened heart and a brightened spirit, Glacier removed the key from inside his feathers with his mouth and moved to unlock the door like he always did. However, something was different about this time all together. Instead of the key inserting into the lock when Glacier lowered his head in the position to turn said lock’s tumbler, he just lightly booped his snoot against the cold, scanty metal of the lock itself. It sent a slight shiver down his spine that almost made him jump from the contact alone.

Looking for the now missing key, as Glacier was certain he had dropped it somewhere on the patio, the confused stallion turned about face the door all together and looked to the stallion that was standing behind him: Style. The stallion smiled wryly, and bowed his head down in an attempt to look for the key. However if Glacier had noticed that Style’s horn had been illuminated when he turned around, he might not have made such a cute mess of himself by circling around Style, nose practically glued to the ground like a bloodhound on a hunt.

“Well,” Style started with a slight giggle, “the key certainly isn’t down there.”

Glacier cocked his head up as he arrived back in front of Style. The height of the unicorn before him somewhat daunting as he took in his stature from all the way down there. “What do you…?” He paused for but a moment, the light of Style’s horn glowing fainting in the night around them.

“I got it,” was all that Style said before levitating the key in his magical influence to the door. Inserting it into the lock, Style made quick work of the tumbler, clanking and smacking all the right pieces into place so that Glacier may turn the lever-like handle and open the door.

“Heh, right…” Glacier choked out as a half-laugh. He had never had a stallion in his entire life open a door for him before. Usually he was the one who always opened the doors for his colt-friends. But Style was different. Style made him feel different. Style made him feel like he didn’t have to try as hard.

“Think nothing of it,” Style retorted, motion for Glacier to lead the now unlocked way.

Taking the stallion up on the offer to bring him into his own home, Glacier slowly but surely pawed at the lever handle of his door, and flicked it down with a click. He then opened the door with a slight but strenuous creak. The door flung open full gape and the stallion walked to the precipice of the home, almost inside, before he was stopped by Style. He was stopped by the stallion’s magic specifically. Glacier was turned around rather effortlessly, his wings springing out as if out of instinct.
Looking Style down now, the stallion was slightly confused. “Why did you stop me?” Glacier asked.

Style sauntered over towards Glacier with an almost predatory presence. “Well,” the stallion began to counter, “because I really wanted to do this again.” And within a second, Style had his lips to Glacier’s, him moaning slightly as he pushed a little rougher into the smaller stallion before him.

Glacier was surprisingly shocked, taken aback completely by the kiss itself. He had no idea that Style had intended on kissing him again so early, let alone in such a primal way. And Glacier hadn’t been touched like this by another stallion in such a long time that his body was responding in some very interesting ways. One of those ways being to push back into Style with just as much fervour as he projected, regardless of the consequence.

The two continued to make out, Style slowly but surely inching Glacier back through the door of his home. They entered the darkness of his common-room, shuffling around rather sloppily as they continued to kiss in just as much of the same manner. The only time they stopped wrestling each other’s tongues to take a quick breath before diving back into each other’s maws hungrily.

Making their way over to Glacier’s couch, the stallions tumbled over the edge of the sofa, Glacier falling back first onto something rather soft and squishy. Something soft and squishy that moved almost as immediately as he had lain his back down upon it.

With a wail of a screech and a scramble of hooves on carpeted flooring, Glacier’s back met the surface of the couch and the two stallions broke contact with each other. Just in time for the common-room lamp to be turned on by one particular, ice-coloured mare. Ice Stream looked rather buggered, her mane a mess and a little bit of drool at the left corner of her muzzle.

“Just what the hay are you doing…? Glacier?” Ice trailed off, looking at her friend, back pinned against the couch she had just been slumbering on. And on her friend was a larger, incredibly familiar stallion. She recognised Style from the Beat Goes On rather easily.

Glacier looked to his friend from an upside down orientation, Style keeping him pinned completely against the surface of the couch cushions. He blushed so brightly that Ice could see it from across the room. Style blushed just a bright, too, however it was a lot harder to see under the intensity of his coat colour.

“It’s n-not what it looks like,” Glacier blubbered out, trying to get Style off of him now. “I swear.”

Style was shocked, sure, but there was something weird going on here that really left him with more questions than not. So, realizing that Glacier was trying to push him off of him, he rose and stood next to the couch. Glacier rose next, sitting betwixt the back of the couch and the armrest, in an awkward, slouched position. He was still blushing incredibly hard, and when Style took notice that the stallion and his ‘friend’ had yet to speak another word, spoke up himself.

“So…” he began with a sense of slight unease, “this is your mare-friend after all?”

There was a titter, a giggle if you will, from one Ice Stream. Both stallions looked over to her to see her almost on the ground in a flurry of tears. She grabbed at her stomach in a rather comical manner, throwing her hooves about in a frantic but seemingly deliberate fashion. She then began to slam her left hoof on the carpeted flooring, tears forming at the edge of her eyes she was laughing so hard.

“Well,” Style started again, looking over to Glacier with a look of confusion,” definitely not the reaction I thought we were going to get.”

The laughing only got harder. A thump on the floor followed suit and both of the stallions were staring at Ice once more. This time however, the mare was now belly up on the floor, literally wailing in uncontrollable laughter. “This… This is absolutely priceless.” She smacked a hoof against her stomach heartily. “You actually think…that Glacier and I…” She broke out into another bout of laugher, so uncontrollable that she could no longer speak again.

“At least the kiss wasn’t for nothing, then,” Style said rather matter-of-factly. He said it to nopony in particular, but Ice stopped immediately when she heard what she had. And though she was at least ninety-nine percent certain she had heard what she had, she just had to make absolutely sure she was correct.

Sitting up on her side in a mock-seduction pose of sorts, Ice Stream quirked her brow with a rather crooked and twisted smile forming on her muzzle thereafter. “You both kissed?” The question came out more like a statement, but the stallions knew that it was indeed a question of confirmation in what Style had said.

Both stallions shook their heads and looked away from one another to the other sides of the room respectively.

“Nice!” Ice exclaimed at the top of her lungs. “This is awesome Glacier!” The mare jumped up almost as if she literally ‘popped’ into existence that way. She then trotted over to Glacier and looked to him with the most serious of looks that she has ever given him in his entire life. She began breathing heavily, noisily, and he was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. And it only got worse when she asked what she had after that.

“Can I see you guys kiss again! It’ll be so darn cute!—“

Glacier then woke with a start, gasping for air and grabbing at his comforter for dear life. It took him a moment to collect himself. But once he did, there was only one thing he could even muster up to say.

“Sweet baby Luna that was one bucked up dream.”

Chapter 7: The Slice of an Apple; That didn't Fall Too Far from the Tree

Chapter 7
The Slice of an Apple; That didn’t Fall Too Far from the Tree

It had been a few weeks since Glacier and Style had properly started a semi-relationship. Glacier was stationed back at his home, listening to some music on his trusty turntable and making himself some grub to munch on in the kitchen. He was fixing himself something rather simple and easy: cinnamon baked apples. Red apples to be specific. And to be even more specific; from Sweet Apple Acres.

The toasty-sweet creation was one of Glacier’s favourite snacks, and on the occasion, his full-blown meal. He just really loved the way a toasted red delicious apple tasted once it was baked in the oven, and the inclusion of some cinnamon really tied the whole thing together.

“Just need to mix this,” Glacier said aloud, throwing the apple slices he had already prepared into a small, green mixing bowl on the counter. The bowl was situated in-between Glacier glass cutting–board—featuring an array of vegetables and fruits upon its sheen—and a few canisters of varying height, filled with sugar, cinnamon, and more sugar in that order.

The apple slices fell upon a semi-mixture of brown sugar, regular sugar, nutmeg, and, finally, cinnamon. It already smelled rather sweet, the almost ready to bake concoction permeating its heavenly scent throughout the room.

His mouth now watering heavily, Glacier took a small wooden spoon (already coated in the mixture under the apple slices) and began to mix the apples into the mess. They tumbled about the plastic, green bowl, getting thoroughly coated in the cinnamon-y and nutmeg-y goodness. Once the stallion was happy with the results, he greased an oven tray with some margarine and slid the tray into his oven, closing it with a little whistle and a flick of his tail.

“Now it shouldn’t be too long before these are done; about 30 minutes or so,” Glacier said under his breath. He then turned about face the oven and began to head back into his common-room.

The stallion pulled the stylus from his playing record and placed the tonearm back in its resting place. He then walked over to his floor-standing radio in the far corner of the room. He played with and flicked a few nobs and dials before the speaker in the unit spark to life with a series of light but playful sounding crackles. Next what filled the room was that of an audio play, it’s catchy little jingle playing out like it always did just as it was getting ready to start for the next hour. Of course there were breaks throughout the performance, thus the radio play actually lasted for approximately and hour and a half.

This audio drama in particular was one about a member of the Royal Guard, which, single-hoofedly, was the sole reason that Glacier had been inspired to write a story about two stallions of the Royal Guard finding love with one another. There had been stories here and there (audio play and not), all about a stallion whom finds the mare of his seemingly idealistic dreams. Though, Glacier thought, that there had never been a play—or a novel really—that touched upon this subject. Nothing in Equestrian literature really dared to tread on the topic of same-sex couple or courting having to do with the likes of them, so Glacier thought this to be out of his comfort zone as well. Sure, books about same-sex couples had been rather successful in the past, but that doesn’t mean that Equestria was really ready to accept it openly and without resistance. There will always be resistance, just as there continues to be after a ruling by the Canterlot Council that gay marriage shall receive the same jurisdiction and rights as “traditional” families and couples of Equestria.

Sitting there and listening to the play go on, Glacier had to get up only once, and that was to get his cinnamon apples from the oven. He sat down with a little bowl of them thereafter and continued to listen to the play, lost in the words that various actors and actresses spoke. He was lost in thought, slowly munching on his apple slices (loving the way they tasted) but far too busy to really take full account of their true flavours and textures.

Once the stallion had finished his collection of apple slices there was a knock at the door, and Glacier groaned out in disapproval as he wondered who could have been coming to his home, bugging him on such a relaxing and lazy Sunday such as this. His ears then perked up at the proposition of it being Style or Ice and Glacier practically galloped over to the door in a flurry of jubilant glee.

The stallion tore the door open without a second thought, beaming as brightly and warmly as he could. His toothy grin radiated the sunshine back into the face of the pony that had been standing in the doorway, and, with a rather hearty thud and a slight curse beneath the breath was revealed to be neither of the ponies that Glacier had previously thought would have been there. Instead it was a pony that Glacier hadn’t seen in a very long time. About four years or so to be exact.

“Now is that anyway to treat family, Glacier?” The voice was a lot gruffer than Glacier’s own, but none the deeper than his. However, Glacier recognised the voice he heard immediately.

Reeling back a bit and stamping his fore-hoof on the patio, he snickered under his breath. “Wasn’t really expecting my clumsy as a hippo brother to show up at my door.” The stallion looked down to his brother as he sat upon the patio, unmoving. His grey coat shone slightly in the light of the afternoon sun, his spikey mane of mirrored black and purple blew lazily in the breeze; it highlighted his horn perfectly.

“Glacier?” the stallion said, standing back on all fours, a cocky smile and a quirk of his left brow following.

“Amethyst?” Glacier countered, eyeing his brother down a little more intensely now.

The two continued to stare each other down for what felt like a century, the tension building between them both. They squinted their eyes, leaned in closer to one another, and then, without much warning at all, Glacier lunged forwards and tackled his brother to the ground completely.

Amethyst screeched much of a mare-ish shriek as he was brought down on the ground with the full weight of his brother. The chubbier pegasus—who was more that proving such with the way he was holding his brother down—continued to keep his brother pinned beneath his figure. A devilish smirk graced his features and then he spontaneously hugged his brother. Amethyst did not seem phased by this and, instead, hugged his brother back, smiling now. The goofy-grin stretched from ear-to-ear.

“I missed you,” Glacier said, pulling back from his brother now. “It really has been too long.”

“That it has,” Amethyst countered; his smile almost seemed to continue to grow. “Though, could you please get off of me? My stallion bits don’t really appreciate the added weight right now.”

“Oh!” Glacier squeaked, jumping off of his brother almost instantly. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Yeah, I know. Not this time, anyways.” Amethyst stuck out his tongue in a lazy, half-mocking fashion, and Glacier hid his face in slight embarrassment. It had only been one that time before. One time! Not to mention it was how Glacier found out—

Amethyst sucked his tongue back in. “It’s alright though, I kid.”

Glacier shook his head and steeled himself against his brother’s silly behaviour. “Well, what brings you here?”

Amethyst cocked his brow and quirk a peculiar smile once more. “Ice Stream didn’t come by and tell you…?”

Glacier paused for a moment, sitting there with a look that seemed as though gears were turning about in his cranium at a rapid but steady pace. He took to this look for a few moments longer before he shook his head and looked Amethyst dead in the eyes and finally responded. Though it came in a bit of a bated breath. “No, actually; she hadn’t.”

“Sounds like classic Ice,” Amethyst quipped. He giggled next and I followed suit. “Poor mare, though.” The stallion shook his head, looking from Glacier to the inside of his home. “You gonna invite your brother in?”

Glacier jumped a little, shocked in himself that he had indeed not invited his brother back into his home. “Well,” Glacier began with a low tone at first, before it eventually rose and became louder, “I most certainly am.” He stood to the side and allowed his brother to enter his home past him. Glacier closed the door closely after, and turned to look back at his brother, whom stood over by his writing desk now.

Rifling through some of his work, Amethyst chuckled to himself. “It’s good to see that you are still writing, even after all this time. I always knew that at least something would come out of it.” Amethyst glanced over at Glacier, a small smile forming on his muzzle now. “Is that what landed you your new, little colt-friend Ice had been telling me about?”

Glacier blushed. It was an incredibly intense blush. One that was so obvious Amethyst knew that everything that he had heard had to have been true. Glacier did have a new colt-friend. And this time, Amethyst was going to make sure to get all the additional details…just like he always did.

Rushing over to Glacier’s couch and vaulting over the back like an Equestrian Games athlete, Amethyst fell and sunk snuggly into the cushion; a sound that most resembled a poof of air followed. He looked over the backrest to his brother, a sly yet somewhat wry smile still gracing his features. He cocked his head to the side before speaking, though that didn’t calm the raging butterflies in Glacier’s tummy at all.

“So…” Amethyst started. “Details.” It was a simple statement, and one that Glacier knew was coming.

Though he replied much like he didn’t understand. “What?” He looked side-to-side, obviously having something to hide.

“Aww, I can tell when you have something that you’re not telling me on your mind, Glacy—“Glacier always hated that nickname. The other colts had given it to him in school, just because he was a little more ‘filly-like’ than they were. “You can tell Big Bro Amethyst all about it, though.”

“Can I Amethyst?” Glacier walked around the couch now. He tried to put on a mask to show that he was a little annoyed with his brother’s immediate pressure. Though, the message kind of fell through, and Amethyst continued to complain that his brother tell him all he had to offer.

“What do you mean, ‘Can I Amethyst’?” his brother retorted in exaggerated air quotes. “Of course you can, silly billy. All you have to do—“Amethyst raised his hooves and put them at the side of his muzzle—“is open and close your mouth like this—“he continued to make mouth-moving motions with his hooves all the while waggling his tongue like a dork—“and make sure the words that come out when you speak, are all about your little colt-friend.” Amethyst put his hooves down and continued to smirk at his otherwise bewildered brother. It had been years since they have seen each other, and then Amethyst just shows up—unexpectedly—and wants to know all there is to know about his new colt-friend. Something was up. Amethyst was never so direct. Annoying and frustrating at times, sure, but never that direct.

“Okay,” Glacier said in a huff of frustration, “what’s up?” Amethyst stopped his rambling abruptly, looking to his brother with almost a daze of confusion spread all about his face. “This isn’t the Amethyst I remember from a few years back.”

“Okay, fine! You got me, little bro!” Amethyst threw up his hooves in defeat and tossed his head back against the couch with an incredible thud. Glacier quickly joined his brother on the couch before he could get as little as one other word from his maw. Amethyst was slightly impressed, to say the least. But was still slightly frightened at the speed of his pegasus brother.

“What happened, Amethyst?” Glacier asked. His questioned dripped with concern.

“Aww, nothing old Amethyst can’t handle…” Amethyst’s tone of voice waved and he began to talk quieter now. “Snow just kicked me out of the house for a while, because we had a little disagreement…”

“Again!” Glacier yelled this time. “When are you going to learn Amethyst?” The stallion paused, grabbed the bridge of his snout and shook his head profusely. He looked up to his brother with a look of scorn, and distrust. “What did you do this time, doofus?”

“Well…” Amethyst went on to ramble out about three-hundred reasons that somepony would want to kick them out of the house, even for just a short period of time. Most of them sounded like relationship-breaking issues, but according to Amethyst, Snow promised that he would be allowed back in the house in one week’s time. Glacier was skeptical, but this was Snow they were talking about. And Snow doesn’t lie.

“Well, if Snowy says that you will be allowed back in the house next Sunday, I guess we just have to put good faith in that pony.” Glacier trusted Snowy. Amethyst however, didn’t completely. Something about this seemed to be the point that he believed would break them up for good. Glacier was trying to stay positive for the sake of his brother and himself. For if he showed one sign of falter, this veneer was sure to crumble around his hooves.

Amethyst looked over the hoof-rest opposite Glacier and groaned to himself like a little colt who had just had his favourite toy taken from him. He rolled his eyes, although Glacier couldn’t see him, and spoke. “If you believe him, I guess that means that I have to believe him, then, doesn’t it?”

Glacier stuck out his tongue, a sense of victory over the other stallion thus. “That is true!” he quipped. Sliding off the couch, Glacier took to the side of the couch that Amethyst had thrown his figure over. He rounded around him so that he may look his brother in the eyes and smiled down to him. “Come, I have some cinnamon apples that I made just before you got here, and I know how they are both your and my favourite.” Glacier said that last sentence with a little sing-song in his voice.

Amethyst propped his head up from the rest and smirk back at his brother. Though it was a little less of the same kind of smirk that Glacier had thrown him. This smirk was much more a mischievous one than not. “I thought I smelt them when I walked in. You make them with the extra cinnamon like we both like?”

It was now Glacier’s turn to roll his eyes. “That doesn’t answer my question. Do you want some or not?”

Amethyst jumped up next to his brother and pulled him into a big, hearty hug. “Some cinnamon-y fruit for the two fruits? Count me in.” They both laugh heartily as they made their way into the kitchen together.

Chapter 8: Memories Best Left Forgotten

Chapter 8

Memories Best Left Forgotten

“Okay Amethyst,” Glacier began as he walked dead centre the middle of his common-room, “you need to be on your best behaviour today. Got it?”

The charcoal grey stallion groaned audibly and rolled about on Glacier’s couch. The top half of the blankets around him all curled up about his snout and horn; the bottom of the blankets curled all around his hind legs. He was incredibly ensnared and could almost no longer move. But Amethyst liked it that way. That way he didn’t have to really listen to his brother, or, get off of the couch, for that matter.

He mumbled something incoherent to his brother, to whom scoffed at him slightly. “This is serious.” Glacier walked over to the couch next, took hold of the blanket in his teeth and tried to pry it away from his brother’s figure, but to no avail. The blanket did not want to budge. So, screwing his eyelids closed, Glacier tried harder, pulling the blanket back and away from his brother slightly. He grunted and groaned a little as he was finally able to start stepping back some, before he almost immediately started to get dragged forwards once more. Perplexed, Glacier opened his squinted eyes wide as he seen his brother, wrapping himself back up in the blanket using his magic.

“I’m not getting up yet, Glacier,” Amethyst protested, tucking himself back in more and entwining himself with the soft embrace of the golden-coloured fabric.

Glacier halted, dropped the blanket from his mouth, and groaned aloud once more before walking over to common-room window and drawing the curtains back. The angelic rays of light that made their way under the canopy outside, poured into the room and illuminated it with their brilliance. The room was thoroughly lit, and Glacier was sure that that would get his lazy as all Tartarus brother to move and get up finally. But Glacier would be wrong. He would be oh so wrong. Amethyst was still laying there, almost lifeless in the way his body just sort of sat there. The only way Glacier really knew his brother was truly alive was from the loud snoring that had just begun to emanate from the slumbering pile of fur.

“Amethyst!” Glacier practically screamed, walking back over to his brother, attempting to turn him around so that the light may shine into those mock sewn shut eyes of his. He jostled his brother next, trying to stir the very persistent and now, somewhat, aggravating stallion. “Get the heck up, you horned doofus.”

There was than an immediate action that caused Glacier to stumble back. It was Amethyst, whom had rolled around quickly and sat up on a dime, looking to Glacier’s confused and seated figured before him. Glacier rolled his hind hooves about the carpet, taking in the feeling of the large fibres against the frog of his hoof as he looked to his brother with a concerning look. However it fell rather quickly once Amethyst began to speak once more.

“Oh, goddesses me, Glacier Wind.” Amethyst threw his head back in a melodramatic fashion and sigh heavily, incredibly audibly; and then he fell back over the hoof-rest of the couch, screeching as he did so. “Oh woe is me!” he chanted, thrashing a hoof about in mock panic. “Whatever shall I do now that my brother has called me a ‘horned doofus’.” He looked over to Glacier, his just as messy mane hanging down in front of his left eye some. Brushing it out of the way, Amethyst went to speak again, but was interrupted by Glacier before he could continue his rather comical rant.

“Not funny.” Glacier walked over to his brother, grasped the blanket with his teeth, and tore it from his brother’s figure with as much effort as he could muster. He had put so much effort forward, however, that he had caused his brother to tumble into the air a little, spin about like an air-bound hoof-ball, and fall back onto the couch with a poof.

“Not cool,” Amethyst said, sitting up promptly and with a rather large pout. “I wasn’t ready to get up yet.”

“It’s mid-day,” Glacier complained once more, pointing over to the obviousness that was the now drawn back curtains. “Time for lazy, colt-friendless ponies to get their behinds up and out of bed.”

Lifting a hoof matter-of-factly, Amethyst deadpanned. “First of all, ouch… And, well, technically it’s a couch—“

“Same difference!”

“Well, you are the writer, I figured—“

“Amethyst!”

“Okay,” Amethyst said, holding his hooves out in front of himself in defence. “I’ll stop.”

“And,” Glacier said, tapping his fore-hoof against the ground in a rather annoyed manner.”

“I’ll get up, off of the couch.”

Excellent,” Glacier cheered, walking away from his brother with the golden hued blanket in tow. “Now get cleaned up a little. I don’t want you smelling like sweat and cum when Style gets here.”

“How—“

“First off, the blanket still has a wet spot on it.” Glacier held up the blanket on the other side of the couch for Amethyst to see. He opened his mouth to say something in response but kept it shut, as he had nothing he could really say in defence. “Second,” Glacier continued, lowering the blanket back down as he started to walk upstairs, “your shame is still showing itself a little.”

2…

With Amethyst all cleaned and presentable, Glacier sat him at the kitchen table as he spoke about ‘their’ plans for the night. “We are gonna need a couple things for dinner tonight, considering now that I got to feed an extra muzzle.” Amethyst pouted a little but Glacier quickly caught it. “Hey, I don’t mind that you are here.” Glacier extended his hoof and tapped it against the surface of the small, round table. “You’re my brother, and if you need to stay here for a little while—heck—a long while until you are back on your hooves, I will always be here for you.” Glacier stood and walked over to the threshold of the common-room, looking back to his brother with a slight smile upon his features. “Now come, we have some shopping to do together.

3…

Amethyst and Glacier arrived at the Ponyville marketplace in a rather timely manner. Both of the stallions trotted along the thoroughfare side-by-side, little smiles upon their muzzles as they chatted about all the times they had as young colts. Glacier talked about the one time Amethyst had put a super glue paste used to bind wood together in his mane and how their mother, Cotton Wisp, had to bring Glacier into the barbershop to have his mane sorted out.

“The look on old Clippers’ face was priceless though,” Glacier quipped as they continued to their vendor of choice; she was located near the backend of the market. “He looked as if he had never see a colt come in that needed his entire mane shaved off.”

“I could only imagine,” Amethyst laughed back heartily. “Mom was fuming mad with me.” Amethyst distinctively remembered his mother threatening to shave off his whole mane as well if he ever did it again. Of course he never did, not wanting to be ‘bald colt of the week’ at their school.

They shared a laugh with one another once more, before they started on the topic of another story from their foal-hoods. Amethyst brought up the time that either of them had first met Ice Stream, and how they all became the best of friends rather quickly thereafter. You see, Glacier and Amethyst’s parents let their colts be the adventurous little colts they wanted to be. They let them play just about anywhere and let them do just about anything they wanted. That included leaving the general area of the little court of houses they had been confined to for a majority of their younger years.

So, one time when the colts had been rather adventurous, they decided to venture out of the court (with the permission of their parents, of course) and see what they could of Ponyville themselves. During said travels, they came across a little, icy-coloured unicorn mare they had never seen at school or around town before.

4…

“Are we weally going ta do this, Amethwyst?” a small, prepubescent Glacier Wind asked.

“Yeah, little bro,” Amethyst retorted with a conviction in his voice. The slightly older colt turned back to look to his brother, a little smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “Or, you know, you could just stay here with mom and pop…” There was a little bit of a sting in his tone. One that was meant to push his little brother along more than cause any form of actual hurt or pain.

“I don’t weally want ta stay with mommy and daddy…” Glacier looked back and away from his brother then. He looked back towards their home, their parents both sitting inside, listening to the newest radio show on the family couch together, content that their little colts were going out to get some good and healthy adventuring in for the day.

“And why is that?” Amethyst asked, walking over to his brother and standing in front of him. He looked down to his younger sibling but only a little. The height and age difference between the two was almost non-existent; Glacier was eight and Amethyst was ten. Glacier just seemed even younger due to his ever so slight speech impediment. Not to mention he was a little bit of a suck-up for his parents too, which never helped the poor boy in the classroom none. Big brother Amethyst almost always had to come to the rescue, just as a big, strong, caring big brother should.

“Because I wanna be a big colt, like you, Amethwyst.”

Amethyst smiled, a crooked smile almost. Today was going to be a good day, a day of adventuring with one another and discovering some new, never before seen things. At least, never before seen to these colts. Pretty much every other stallion and mare knew pretty much all there was to know about Ponyville.

With that said, both of the colts made way out of their little survey and down towards where Sugarcube Corner was. Both colts knew this place in town well, and wanted to use it as their starting point for their expedition across town. They could go in one direction and work their way back, knowing where they are no matter what. Then, they could go in another direction, and continue the same process to return to the confectionery staple of Ponyville.

Looking around themselves, they took to deciding just which direction they wanted to head in for the first little outing of theirs. The first and most obvious choice would be to go directly north from Sugarcube Corner. But there were just so many possibilities; almost too many that both of the colts found the choices kind of daunting in nature. Especially Glacier, whom really was just following and wanting to be just like his older brother. Amethyst was his older and wiser guide in this world… Well, he tried to be anyway. That always didn’t work out. Just like that one time Glacier had taken his older brother’s advice to venture around the grocery store while their parents were finishing up some grocery shopping. Turns out a colt going missing slightly and then ending up almost being shipped halfway across Equestria in the back of a caravan isn’t really the appropriate definition of the word “exploration”. Though Amethyst has done well in changing his behaviour, becoming the model, little colt that both of his parents had wanted him to become. Or so they thought.

Still not the best at making decisions, Amethyst chose to go in a direction that didn’t end all too well for the colts. They got a little lost, in a part of town that they had never been with their family before.

Stumbling about, Glacier whimpered slightly to his older brother: “Amethwyst, where are wee?”

To which his brother replied, “I’m not exactly sure, Glacy.”

“Please doon’t call me thawt, Amethwyst,” Glacier countered, trembling slightly behind his brother’s figure. “Where are wee?”

Amethyst looked around them, trying to place just where they were right now. Perhaps they had been here before and the colt just didn’t realise it right away. But as he looked around to the slightly decrepit buildings of the Ponyville outskirts, he found that he couldn’t place this neighbourhood at all. There was nothing distinguishing to be seen, just the occasional tumbleweed tossing and turning across the nearly empty walkway they stood. The only other thing on the path were the few raggedy ponies that trotted and dragged their weary-looking hooves across the dirt. They kicked up a slight amount of dirt and it caused Glacier to sneeze; the greasy and oily-looking ponies throwing him and his brother some questioning and disturbing glances and glares. Some even growled and groaned at them, their presence clearly coming off as an annoyance to the small, shuffling crowd.

“I think that we should get out of here, Glacier,” Amethyst said, backing up into his brother some and causing him to fall back onto his rear. His brother’s rear followed and smacked into the ground heavily, and elicited a little bit of an ‘oof’ out of him. The dirt kicked up by his brother’s slightly larger than normal rear-end caused the colt to sneeze again. But this time, when the little colt had recovered from his rather intense sneeze, he noticed that his brother was rather frozen—almost stock-still in the way he sat there, unmoving, and the appearance of his breathing seemed to be a nonexistence.

“Hello there,” a rather light and delicate voice sounded out across the dreary scenery around them. “I’ve never seen either of you guys around here before. You colts new around here or somethin’?”

Glacier stood and looked around his brother’s frozen figure. There, standing a metre from them, was a little icy-blue coated filly. Her fur resembled much of the same colour as Glacier’s own, though it was a lighter shade of blue. She quirked her head to the side and her medium length mane of teal and mint green fell in front of her right eye some.

“Woah,” Glacier said, walking up next to his brother. “She doewsn’t look like shwe belongs herew at all.” Glacier looked to the pretty filly before him. She was a lot cleaner than the rest of this part of town seemed to be, and that was putting things lightly. This filly was a crown jewel in the grime that was this neighbourhood. And as Glacier continued to look at the little filly, he noticed something about her. There was something about the way she cocked her head to the side. Something about the way her mane fell so delicately in front of her eyes. She looked very cute, and Glacier was pretty sure that he was suffering from his first crush now.

“Geez, snap out of it little bro,” Amethyst chuckled as he clapped his fore-hooves in front of Glacier’s muzzle. “How old are you, little missy?”

“Um, why?” the young mare retorted.

“Random question.”

“I’m eight and a half,” she responded. “Just got the chance to finally go to school here, actually. My parents…couldn’t really afford to have me go…” The filly looked back to the smaller colt next to the older, grey colt. She giggled. “What’s your name?”

“Glacier Wind,” the little colt responded. He then pointed to his brother and followed suit with, “and this is Amethyst Pen. He’s my brother.” Thereafter, the colt placed his hoof upon the dirt path once more, and nodded his head a little in the filly’s general direction. “What’s your name?”

“My name?” the filly responded first. “My name is Ice Stream.”

5…

Glacier and Amethyst arrived at the vendor they were heading to at the back of the many vendors in the town market today. It seemed that there were more than usual there. Glacier didn’t really take account of this, however. Neither did Amethyst. That stallion hadn’t even been in Ponyville for six years now, anything could be different to him really. The only thing that didn’t really change all this time was Glacier’s home.

The sign read: ‘A Golden Harvest’. And as they approached the moderately-sized stall, an earth pony mare with a bright, yellow-hued coat could be seen to be stationed there, finishing up serving a couple of earth pony stallions. Glacier knew this mare, even without acknowledging the sing carrot cutiemark she bore. She was typically at the back of the pack when it came to the vendors here on the thoroughfare, though Glacier always made sure to pay her a visit at least once a week to keep his supply of carrots topped off. You never know when you may need to make a carrot cake, or fry some carrots to feed now three mouths instead of two.

Tossing her curly, orange mane out of her eyes, the mare looked to Glacier and his brother now. “Geez, if it isn’t Glacier again. How you doing today Hun?”

“I’m doing well, Mrs. Harvest,” Glacier responded with a smile. He placed his forelegs up onto the countertop made of several small, wooden planks, and leaned across it as he continued to talk to the mare. “How has the husband been lately? He helping a bit with the farming now that he’s retired?”

“Oh, yes,” the mare giggled back in a rather soft voice. It came off like the breeze running across a field of daffodils. “He’s happy to be out of the factory now. Though he does seem a tad bit bored without the hustle of the Rainbow Factory, but what can you do.”

“I’m sure you’re happy to have him around more.”

“Oh, of course dearie.” She cocked an eyebrow and looked to Amethyst. “And is that Amethyst there? Little colt, it’s been forever, dear.”

Amethyst stepped forwards, next to his brother once more. “It’s good to see you, too, Goldie,” Amethyst chuckled. He blushed a little after, a little lost for words seeing as he hasn’t really seen this mare in years, and whom he wasn’t all that close to. Glacier was far more close to this mare than he had ever been. “How are you?”

“Oh, just peachy, eh?” Golden Harvest giggled again. “Glacier usually comes by every week to say hi and buy a nice buddle of carrots from me.” She tilted her head to the side and cocked her brow once more. “Though…he has already bought his load for the week. So, what do I own the pleasure for this visit, sweeties? Coming by just to say hello, are we?”

“Actually,” Glacier rolled his hoof on the vendor table, it click-it-y clacking as he did so, “we are here because I need some more carrots for the dinner I had planned for tonight. Amethyst will be staying with me for the next little bit and I want to make absolutely sure that there is enough food to go around.”

“Well that’s just perfect!” Mrs. Harvest proclaimed as she threw a bundle of carrots up onto the counter in front of Glacier’s fetlocks. “Turns out I have just that here.” She chuckled as she looked to the slightly unimpressed face Amethyst was making. Glacier, however, was beaming.

Amethyst nudged his brother, whispering in his ear as discreetly as he could with the mare standing right in front of them. “Alright, we got the carrots. Can we get out of here now? This is so awkward for me.”

Shoving his brother back, Glacier chortled nervously to the mare. “Excellent,” he said next, taking some bits out of his saddlebag with his wing. He placed the appropriate amount onto the counter and grabbed the bundle in his teeth before throwing it back over his withers, it landing in the opposite pouch his money. “Well it was fun talking, Mrs. Harvest. I’ll stay longer next week, promise.”

“Oh, it’s fine, Glacier dearie.” She waved a hoof in the brothers’ direction. “You don’t have to go out of your way for an old mare like me.”

“It’s okay, Mrs. Harvest,” Glacier said with a wavy smile as he turned to trot back home. “I’ll be back! Same time next week!” He and Amethyst then proceeded to trot off into the distance, the sun just starting to set over the horizon.

“That stallion is too silly,” Golden Harvest said with the shake of her head. “He’s gonna make somepony laugh a lot someday.”

6…

Glacier and Amethyst arrived back at his abode around the time the sun had made it about halfway past the horizon line. The chirping of the birds and the warm breeze from earlier had all ceased, replaced now by a silence of the birds and the slight whistle of a now cool breeze. The two stallions walked up the small stoop and stood before Glacier’s door before the stallion in question pulled his key from his saddlebags, unlocked the door, and opened it.

Walking into his home, Glacier removed his saddlebag and threw it over the coatrack behind the door; Amethyst walked over to the couch and plopped down on it lazily. He groaned as he sunk into the cushions, draping his head over the backrest of the seat as he did so. He smiled in content. Seeing this, Glacier walked over to his brother, looming over his head. He smiled as well.

Sighing a little, Glacier mused to his brother in a low tone: “The night is far from over. You know that, right?”

To which his brother looked up to him with half-lidded eyes. “I know. Just, after such an awkward meet-up with Goldie, I really need to sit for a second. I don’t do well with seeing ponies after not seeing them for such a long time.”

“Don’t worry, I understand completely.” Glacier giggled lightly to himself and rounded about the sofa. He sat down next to his brother, draping his head over the backrest as well. The smile remained the same—unmoving.

Both brothers sat like that for a while, before Amethyst broke the silence. “So…why don’t you tell me a little bit more about this colt-friend of yours I’m going to be meeting tonight? Does he know I’m here right now?”

“Yeah, I called him up yesterday and let him know that you were gonna be here.” Glacier looked over to his brother, his head still laid back against the backrest. To his surprise Amethyst was already looking at him. He blushed a little. “He’s actually really excited to meet you, Amethyst. So I guess this all worked out in the end anyways. Saves traveling to Caneighda to have him meet you and everyone else.” Amethyst’s smile skewed slightly. “Dad still isn’t over this, is he?”

“Nope. And because I have never mentioned Snow around him nor mum, he still talks to me like old times.”

Glacier sat up and spun in his seat to look Amethyst down properly now. “Mom and dad still don’t know about you and Snow being a thing?” He sounded a little confused. Glacier’s brother and his father had always had a better relation with each other, even before Glacier had come clean to him about his sexuality. However, Glacier was sure that his brother had told his father about himself and had brought Snow around to see them.

In fact, Glacier was wrong.

“That would be correct, good buddy.” Amethyst then ignited his horn in the same hue of amethyst which coloured a near matching streak to Glacier’s own purple one in his mane; he ruffled his brother’s mane with an exasperated sigh. “I never told them anything, and I’m perfectly happy that way.”

Glacier furrowed his brow and poked his brother’s chest next, sneering slightly in his tone that followed. “You’re telling me that I, your Celestia-be-damned brother, is to be hated by our father, but you get to be all so fucking happy in your little life with Snow! And go on, uncaring, just like you seem to be doing now! This is serious business, you ass-hat! Not something that can be taken lightly, at all!”

Amethyst recoiled back at his brother’s assault, is ears splaying back against his cranium as he did so. His expression fell, and his muzzle turned to a frown. His eyes looked to glaze over a little with what could only be tears. “I-I know that i-it’s s-serious, Glacier,” he stuttered out. He reverted, falling further into his seat as Glacier grew over him. “I’m sorry.”

“That is a load of gryphon shit and you know it!” Glacier threw his forelegs in the air, all before poking at his brother again. “Do you know what it was like, Amethyst? What it was like when dad nearly beat me to death when I told him about me and Calm Breeze? What it was like when he said ‘No son of mine is going to be a disgusting, sissy-bitch colt-cuddler’?! Oh, that’s right!—” Glacier poked his brother’s chest again, harder and in a far more demeaning manner than before. He was practically fuming now, tears of his own starting to stream from the corner of his eyes as the adrenaline began to build and flow at an overwhelming and alarming rate. “You don’t even know half of how bad it was for me. You do not know how hard it is to get kicked out by your father just before you turn seventeen, and have to crawl back to the mare who you just came clean to two weeks previously. Have to beg her and her parents to let you stay with them until you can find a job and earn some money to rent your own place!” Glacier jumped off of the couch and looked his brother down, a fire and ferocity behind his words. “Celestia-fucking-dammit!”

Amethyst was frozen, completely unmoving now. He looked to be in shell-shock, if his eyes were anything to go off of. They were completely wide, pupils dilated as if he was having some sort of earthshattering flashback to a particularly unpleasant time. It was of the time that Glacier had come clean to his father in his study. But before the stallion could truly reminisce on more horrid times, he was pulled from his reverie.

“Equestria to Amethyst!” Glacier screamed at him. “Didn’t you hear me?”

“I…” Amethyst couldn’t speak, his words caught in his throat as if he had momentarily gone mute. His mouth continued to move in little motions as if he were attempting to continue to communicate, but nothing came out at all.

“Speak, Amethyst!”

“I…” The stallion took a moment to think about what he was truly going to say before he said it now. “I… I don’t k-know what it’s like—never will… Hopefully. But, I do know what you went through. I was there. D-don’t you remember, Glacier?”

It was Glacier’s turn to freeze. He looked just like Amethyst had just moments prior. He looked as if he was going to tremble and shake, like the last leaf on a maple in autumn.

And then he did.

It came in a flurry. He shook as if he had succumbed to hyperthermia, and had the eyes of a White Tail Woods deer whom had just been startled. Glacier hadn’t thought about that day in detail in such a long time, but it was all coming back to him now. All coming back to him like a flood of endorphins to the brain. However, Glacier never wanted to relive this memory ever again. It had taken him years to cover it up and finally forgive his father for what had happened. Of course he never really forgave him, he just dealt with his father’s existence now.

“Glacier!” Amethyst screamed, jumping up from the couch. The tears stopped, as Amethyst was far more worried about his brother than anything he had said. And if Amethyst were being honest with himself, he would agree with Glacier to some degree. He should have been there far more for his little brother, helping defend him from their father; helping him when he was down and out, but he never did. Amethyst sat idly by and watched what his father had done to his brother. And he has yet to forgive himself self nor forget what he had done…but he was afraid. Afraid of their dad and what he would have done to him—done to their family—if he knew both of his children shared an attraction for the same sex.

Furthering his attempt to pull his brother back from the brink he had slowly begun his decent into, Amethyst grabbed hold of his brother’s withers and looked him in the eyes as he spoke. They looked absent, almost dead in presence. But Amethyst knew that his brother was still in there, in the back of his mind somewhere, lost in the darkness of that day. Lost in the darkness of the beating he once withstood. And he had to get him back.

“Glacier!” Amethyst began once more. He smacked his brother on the cheek and looked him in the eyes to see if his brother had come back to him.

It did nothing.

“Glacier, are you there?!”

Amethyst was about to hit his brother again until the doorbell rang. He froze, and Glacier was pulled from his stupor almost immediately. He shook slightly still, this time for a different reason and looked back, deep into his brother’s eyes.

“T-that’s Turn-Style now. Dang it!” The stallion then pleaded in his brother that they keep their little fight in the past and that they move forward in an attempt to enjoy the rest of the night. And so that Amethyst may sit down with his colt-friend more appropriately instead of canceling plans and disappearing for a little while.

“You w-want me to answer it…or?” Amethyst asked, confusedly.

“N-no, I got it. Just act normal. Smile wide and pretend that none of this ever happened. I don’t want Style to have a bad idea of our relationship over something like that. I don’t want to weird him out.”

“Don’t worry. I got you, little bro. Trust me.”

Glacier turned to walk over to the front door. He padded over to it slowly, the sound of his hooves dragging on the carpet only growing louder until they hit the hardwood flooring by the door. And as he stepped up to the doorway finally, he took a deep breath and exhaled through his snout. It calmed him when he did this, and he could feel the memory fading away once again, as if it was never there to begin with. It also alleviated the stress caused from the screaming he had done.

Placing a wing around the lever door handle, Glacier flicked it down quickly. The door sprung inward as it opened and the stallion stepped back. Standing there, just outside the doorway, was Style, just as bright and smiley as ever. His smile could really brighten up the room it was so dang cute. It lifted Glacier’s spirits the rest of the way and he smiled a hearty and genuine smile.

“Hey Style! Please, come inside.”

Chapter 9: Dinner Date

Chapter 9

Dinner Date

Pretending as if nothing had happened betwixt them at all, Glacier and Amethyst both began smiling and being all giggly with one another in front of Style. They both invited the stallion into the home with open hooves, and they quickly got down to conversing with one another. The topics varied on the spectrum of Glacier’s foal-hood, to Amethyst’s own foal-hood respectively. Style never knew that Glacier had left home at the age he had, and he never knew that Glacier stayed with his dear friend Ice and her parents for some time either. It was all a rather interesting revelation that the stallion thought to be rather cool. It would be found to have peaked his interest because neither Glacier nor Amethyst had told the stallion the actual way the events went down, lest bring the outburst from earlier up in the process. So, instead, both stallions told a little fib. It wouldn’t be necessary to tell Style the truth anyhow, Glacier had no intent of bringing him up to Caneighda to visit his parents at all. What little his father knew about his life now, the better. The better for him and his wretch of a father.

“So, Glacier,” Style began, licking his lips slightly in anticipation, “what about that carrot casserole? I’ve been dying to try it all day.” The stallion giggled thereafter.

The stallion in question scratched the back of his head with a hoof and looked to his brother momentarily, before looking back into Style’s dreamy eyes, a sense of warmth and comfort flowing over himself as he did so. He quirked a little smile, though it came off as a tad bit strained, and chuckled. “Well, to be honest, Amethyst and I lost track of the time. Before we knew it, the day was gone and you were here. We got extra carrots and everything for it tonight though.” Glacier motioned over towards the kitchen as if to show Style he had indeed gotten what was needed for the night.

“Aww, that’s okay Glacy.” He smiled in return, reached out a hoof, and ruffled the stallion’s mane. It became even messier than before, if that was even possible.

“Why do you let him call you Glacy?”

Glacier looked over to his brother then, a slight appearance of annoyance on his face. “Because he is my colt-friend, doofus. Duh!”

“Ooh, I didn’t know we had labels on everything now. When did that happen?” the stallion questioned in a sing-song tone.

Glacier froze. He hadn’t caught that he himself had mentioned that Style and him both had any sort of labels for their relationship. But in fact, he had. And he could play recovery, trying to fix what he had just done, or he could accept it and move on.

“Well, I had been thinking about it these past few days, and meant to ask you about it, but hadn’t gotten around to it. I had been busy with Ice, then Amethyst, as well as dealing with my book on top of it.” The stallion scratched at the back of his neck nervously as a blush crossed his face. He then looked away and to his brother for a moment. There was a pleading there, something that looked a little like a puppy dog face. His brother has seen this before, he was used to it. And this time he wasn’t going to help him. He had enough of his own problems with his own colt-friend that he felt it better to stay out of it and let Glacier solve this little hiccup on his own. Plus, he liked to see his brother beg and suffer (just ever so slightly) sometimes. Particularly when it didn’t really involve any sort of physical torment.

“And…” Style leaned forwards towards Glacier, staring directly into his deep blue eyes, waggling his eyebrows in a pseudo-seductive manner.

“I-I was… I was wondering if…” Glacier was falling all over himself now, his words stumbling and fumbling just as badly as he seemed to be physically.

“You were wondering what?” Style growled out in a low-tone that even made Amethyst a little uncomfortable. Surely Style wasn’t trying to put on any kind of moves while he was sitting right there. Was he?

“I was wondering—“Style lifted a hoof and placed it on Glacier’s thigh and began to rub it in a slow, rhythmic fashion—“i-if y-you wanted to b-be my colt-friend. You kn-know, make it official?”

Style then got oddly serious, looking Glacier in the eyes rather sternly. “As much as I would love that Glacier, I really would, I’m not too sure of that myself. I mean, we’ve been dating for a little while now, but I would still like to get to know the real you a little bit more before I’m ready for that.” He paused as he could sense the tension rolling off Amethyst and Glacier’s own expressions. Amethyst, rather peeved-looking, possibly seething under the surface. And Glacier, a pained and uncomfortable look on his face. He looked as if Style had just threw a puppy off a cliff in front of him.

“I-It’s okay,” Glacier said, sniffling a little. “I understand, Style, I really do.” He smiled a little smile, looking to the taller stallion before him. He cocked his head to the side and continued his smile, looking into the rather deep looking pools that were Style’s eyes. The brown that he seen there, reminding him of cinnamon and ginger, and all the wonderfully tasty and delightful treats that could be made with it. He really should make Style something like that sometime. He’s sure to enjoy a treat like that.

“Thank you Glacier, sweetie. I just need a little time to decide if that’s the next step that I would like to take.” He sighed and looked to Amethyst next. The emotion that he read off of Amethyst was a little sort of anger, but it still wasn’t there quite yet. That was a saving grace at least.

“I think that I need a little explanation here,” Amethyst said through slightly gritted teeth. “Because, from the sounds of it, Glacier was pretty sure that you were gonna say yes.” Amethyst shuffled in his seat but never took his eyes off of Turn Style. “So,” he huffed, “what gives?”

“Amethyst—“

“Glacier knows perfectly well why I am not ready to make that call yet, I assure you. I’m not just saying this because I’m not interested in your brother, Amethyst, trust me.” He smirked but in a way that was far from condescending and more in a knowledge that Amethyst knew that he was telling the truth. He liked Glacier, very much so, but he wasn’t ready for labels yet. Not after Firestorm.

“Then why don’t you tell me all about what’s going on here, then?” Amethyst queried.

“Amethyst, please—“

“It’s alright Glacier,” Style said, interrupting him. He then placed a hoof on his thigh and held it there, unmoving as it were. Style looked down into Glacier’s eyes, the same level of sternness and seriousness present in his gaze. “If Amethyst wants to know about Firestorm, I’ll tell him. I’ll be okay, Glacy.”

He looked back over to Amethyst who looked more annoyed than anything right now. “It all started one night when I went down to the local gay bar, The Embassy.”

2…

“I thought that it was going to be just like any other night I had gone there: walk in, sit down, get hit on by some horribly desperate stallions, and leave just as depressed as when I had entered. But that night it was different, and it led to something I thought I was undeserving of.”

Style walked up the rather lively and brightly lit building. The bar scene wasn’t really much of the stallion’s thing, nor was looking for a quickie with some random stallion out back in the alleyway. But that didn’t stop the random stallions that perused the crowd of seemingly desperate faces that made up the clientele from hitting on anything that moved, trying to get a piece of tail for the night. This made Style queasy whenever he ever seen it happening. To think that some young colts were so eager for a quick fuck that they would stoop so low as to leave the bar with some lowly-looking stallion, decked-out in dozens of tattoos, a beard adorning their muzzle, and run the risk of catching something these dirty stallion most likely had.

The name of the establishment, illuminated in pink neon, gleamed and flashed hypnotically to the rhythm of the music as Style made his entrance. They were playing some song he didn’t really have any clue as to what it was. But the beat was good, and that’s all that really mattered when the music is essentially just an icebreaker to grind and feel all over somepony you don’t know. And usually it worked—a little too well, in some ponies’ cases. Style can recall one time that there was this one lithe, little, twink-looking colt, surrounded by as many burly and manly stallions as one could count. It was like watching tigers stalking prey but in plain sight. It made him sick. But still, he went back almost twice a week, looking for something to fill his own void. A deep, black hole that had been brooding there, growing larger everyday he went without seeing somepony next to him each morning he woke. Sometimes the pain alone was almost enough for him to consider giving up on it.

Shaking the thought from his head, Style steered clear of the dance floor, lit by dozens of little lights of red, white, and blue. Must have been a special night that Style didn’t know about, nor cared about it particular, as he had never seen those colours used at this bar in particular. But he liked it, those colours were bright, colourful, and vibrant. They stood out without being stereotypically gay. Though he didn’t hate having the stereotypes in there for the lighting either. He always loved the hue of purple they used to the light the dance floor. That, combined with the red, pink, and baby blue really tied the rainbow hue of the dance floor together. It was a cacophony of homosexuality and Style loved that. The rest of this place? Not so much.

Walking over to the bar, Style approached it with a slight wiggle in his step. It always made his stomach turn every time he walked up to the counter. He never sat there, of course, because that was far too exposed for the stallion’s liking. He much preferred to go sit in a corner booth, an ample sightline of the dance floor before him; because he sure did love to watch the young stallions shake what booty they had. Now did that make him a bad stallion? Just as bad as the burly ones that used the young colts? No, it didn’t. But that didn’t stop the thought from crossing his mind on occasion. Sometimes it crossed it more than once in a night, it really just depended. But when you are fighting a void of darkness—a void of blackness—it was hard to see betwixt the lines at times.

“A whisky,” the stallion said to a rather flamboyantly coloured stallion behind the counter. He was the colour of a lilac, a short-cut white mane and tail streaked with amethyst brought his appearance all together. That and the leather vest that he wore over his withers were the main things that Style took into account before he was slid his drink and he retired to the booth nearest the back of the establishment.

The booth sat along the same wall as that of the front door, each new member of the collection of sweaty depravity walking past the blackness that was the silhouette of the seat in front of him. There was little of anything that passed that point that really caught the stallion’s eye. And after about twenty minutes or so of waiting, he turned his attention back to the dance floor, and the cute, little stallion booties bumping and grinding all along it. He watched the bodies rock back and forth, up and down, the sweat rolling down the contours of their bodies, dripping on the patriotic floor beneath their hooves. The place smelled of sweat, when the stallion really thought about it, but when you’re distracted by attractive stallions or are intoxicated, you don’t really notice it. You tend to think with you dick more when any of these variables are taken into account.

“Hey there,” a growl of a voice called out.

This caused Style to raise his head some, looking through the darkness around him in a vain attempt to find the source of the mysterious voice. “Hello…?” the stallion questioned back over the bumping beat of the music.

“I said hey there, cutie.” All of the sudden there was another stallion sitting at the table in front of Style, although he couldn’t really see his face, the stallion still covered by the shroud that was the darkness of this part of the club.

Style squinted, trying to get a better look at the stallion, but was still struggling some. So, with the clearing of his throat, he was about to ask the stallion if he could lean a little into the light.

“Ah, right,” the stallion hummed deeply. “I should probably do this.” There was then a flick and the table was then illuminated in the brilliance of a white florescent bulb. “That’s better, now you can see me.”

“The stallion that was sitting with me was a pegasus stallion named Firestorm. He’s my ex. A mule’s ass is more of what he is, but that’s for later. Firestorm had a coat that was a deeper red colour, one that matched the lights that night. And he had a raggedy, shortly-cut mane of golden blonde that I really liked…beforehand. And he had a longer tail, like Glacier, but it was golden blonde too, just to give you a better picture. Anyways…”

“Yeah, I can,” Style said, rolling his eyes slightly. It wasn’t the first time that a stallion had tried to pick him up by calling him “cutie” or playing off their own looks so much, as if he should be absolutely honoured and floored that a stallion that looks as godly in appearance as he has any interest in him. Not that the stallion didn’t look very handsome; he most certainly did. Style thought so wholeheartedly, looking away from the stallion with a few sideways rolls of the eye. He was trying to look unimpressed, so that this muscle of stallion meat would just leave him alone and be on his way to prey on the youth that was in tonight. But the stallion didn’t leave. Instead he opted to try and have a conversation with Style, much to the stallion’s dismay.

“So, what brings a stallion like you to a place like this on a Wednesday night?” he queried.

“A stallion like me?” Style questioned back, his ear flicking a little as he could just faintly hear the sound of the stallion huffing out a little bit of air at his response.

“A stallion that isolates himself to the back of a bar like this is usually here for one of two things…”

“And what are those, may I ask?” Style responded, his brow furrowing a little. He scanned the stallion’s face over, trying to read just what he was playing at, but he couldn’t do it. There was something about the way this stallion carried himself that Style just couldn’t read. It was interesting, and Style found himself liking it little-by-little.

“One, you’re here scanning the younger colts over there, looking to see if you can score a quick fuck at your place. Or two…you’re waiting for a stallion to approach you.” The stallion leaned across the table, so close that Style could almost smell the alcoholic miasma permeating from his maw.

“Try two,” Style said coldly. “I can’t stand it when I see those stallions grinding all over those little things. They really don’t know what they want, and they are just taking advantage of them.” Style smirked next. “And I’m looking for a stallion to approach me that has some class and isn’t a cocky twat-cake. You feel me, big guy?”

Firestorm put both his hooves up, his unshorn fetlocks hanging over his light beige-coloured hooves. “Hey, I understand. I came on a little too strong. Let me correct that…” The stallion cleared his throat, straightened himself up, and looked Style dead in the eyes. “Hello there. How are you tonight?” The stallion smirked back, sticking the tip of his tongue out between his teeth.

Style chuckled in response to that. “That’s much better. You might just have a chance there, big guy.”

“Oh yeah?” Firestorm asked, a little intrigued.

“Yeah… If you play your cards right, that is.”

“And what happened after that?” Amethyst asked.

“Well, to be honest, It’s a little difficult to talk about,” Style said, looking to Amethyst with an earnest look behind his eyes.

“Hey…” Amethyst put a hoof on Style’s withers. “If it’s too much, you can stop there. I’m getting the vibe that this stallion was a hoof-full to begin with.”

Style returned the hoof and leaned a little closer to Amethyst, his voice little above a whisper now. “Thanks, but this really needs to be talked about. It’s the only way I’ll be able to move past it. If not for Glacier’s sake, then my own.” The stallion looked back to Glacier, whom nodded in response. It was then that Style steeled himself properly for the rest of the story. There really wasn’t much left to tell, now that Amethyst knew who Firestorm was. All that was left was what made him the mule’s ass that he was.

“Well why don’t you come for a little walk with me and we’ll see if I know how to deal some cards in both our favours.” Style smiled and Firestorm smiled back. They then both rose from their seats in unison, walked to the entrance and turned it into the exit as they vacated the premises and went on their little walk.

The stallions walked with one another for what felt like hours, but was approximately forty-five minutes or so, give or take a few minutes. They chatted mainly about one another, what part of town they were native too, and what their current occupations where. Firestorm, unsurprisingly, worked at the Weather Factory making clouds and the like. Style worked at The Beat Goes On. The interests were really different as well, nothing really crossed over with one another at all. Style loved musical influence in his life, and Firestorm really couldn’t really care any less if he tried. Firestorm had a love for and pride for any and all pegasi that Style just didn’t really understand. He seemed to treat it as though pegasi were God’s perfect creation in this great land of Equestria, when each and every pony was just as equal as the next. They were all needed in this world in order to make it function; no one was better than the other. Except in Firestorm’s eyes.

Now the reason Style didn’t see this as a red flag to start with is really unknown, but one could speculate that he really was caught up in the looks of this stallion. He was handsome, had a bright coat that attracted the eye, and charisma that really brought his appearance all together. And it was an appearance that Style was starting to grow comfortable with. One that made him feel safe, despite the stallion being almost a good foot shorter than him. His charismatic visage made him seem approachable with just about anything and everything.

Fast forward nine months, Firestorm and Style are both together, living in the same home. Firestorm is still working at the Weather Factory and Style is still working at The Beat Goes On. Firestorm is content with the relationship and Style thinks so too. They both come home every night, eat dinner together and listen to radio shows together and talk amongst themselves. However there were a few occasions where this was not that case. However, upon one night, a few weeks later, Style and Firestorm had both had enough of one another, and something very disgusting and unforgivable happened. Something ungodly and sickeningly terrifying. Something unforgettable…

The couple had arrived back at home pretty much in unison, like they usually do. However, Style was tired from a particularly busy day at the shop. He looked cramped from all the heavy lifting of records and magnetic tape spools, most of which is a lot heavier once you try and carry a large quantity at once. And even though he was a unicorn by nature, he was very much susceptible to straining himself in levitating heavy loads. No one ever said using magic was a free ride, though most tend to think so, and many unicorns abuse it in their favour. Style was quite the contrary to that stereotype, tending to do things the “old-fashioned” earth pony way.

Stepping into the home a few minutes before Firestorm touched down outside their front door, Style sat on the couch and sighed a breath of relief as he relaxed his tensed muscles finally. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch, letting the comfort of the cushions beneath and behind him envelope his senses completely, fully. So much so that he didn’t even hear the front door open and Firestorm walk over into the common-room.

“Hey,” was all Style hear before opening his eyes lazily.

“Hi,” Style said, closing his eyes again as he attempted to relax some more.

“Why haven’t you started dinner yet? It’s 7p.m., is it not?” Firestorm countered, throwing his orange work jacket on the floor next to the coatrack.

“Could you please pick up your jacket and actually put it on the coatrack for once?”

“Why don’t you do it when you get up to make us both something to eat?” Firestorm shot back. “Fucking smartass.” The stallion slowly strode over to the couch and plopped himself down on the other end of it. He sighed and put his dirty hooves up on the coffee table Style had just cleaned this morning.

Style sighed as he could practically see the dirt falling off the bottom of Firestorm’s hooves and onto the table’s surface. He sat up a little and looked to his colt-friend, a stern look on his face. “I just cleaned the coffee table this morning.”

To which Firestorm responded, “Is that so...? You could always, I don’t know, clean it again. Couldn’t you?”

Style jumped off of the couch, pointing to the coffee table absentmindedly with a hoof. “I would rather not ‘clean it again’ right after I had already just done it, Storm.”

“So, when are you making me dinner, babe? I’m starving.” The stallion looked over to Style with the condescending smirk of a real douchebag. He was pushing the envelope a little too far. But that is how he tended to do things now. It was all so different in the beginning. He was so kind and sweet, treating Style the most important stallion in the entire world. But now, he just treated Style like he was a piece of property.

“You didn’t go and make him something to eat, did you?” Amethyst asked a little concernedly.

“Oh, but I did. As much as he treated me like garbage then, I remembered all the good times, all the times he made me feel special, alive, like I held value. It drove me to do things I’m not rather fond of admitting. Making him something to eat that night is one of them. Especially after what happened later that night…”

With Firestorm’s daffodil sandwich made and delivered, Style sat back down on the opposite end of the couch. He listened as Firestorm munched on and mused to himself in delight as he enjoyed the quick meal his colt-friend had made for him. And whilst he listened, he watched the stallion out the corner of his eye. He watched his expression as he ate—stock and emotionless—looking as though he had been struck by some sort of inner monologue of his own thoughts. It was enough to make Style sick, though he stayed with him. He felt he needed the stallion, like he was the only one that would love him the way he did.

Firestorm looked to Style and motioned towards the old Celestial Radio—the kind that bore crystalline tubes—and spoke to the stallion in question. “Turn on the radio for me. I wanna hear if they have a radio play on tonight.”

Style rose up and trotted slowly over towards the radio, the glare of Firestorm following him all the while. The stallion never really did let up at all, did he? And reaching for the radio it followed once more. Style placed his hoof upon the old, wooden knob of the machine and twisted it to the right with a violent click. A flurry of static and noise followed from a speaker beneath a golden cloth on the front of the machine before the intelligible and recognisable sound of voices filled the air. They were the voices of the two late-night news ponies from just down the way nearest Sugarcube Corner. Style could have sworn he had seen the ponies on a few rare and sporadic occasions but he wasn’t too sure. Could have been just some regular, old pony...just like him.

Returning himself to the couch, Style sat at the opposite end once more. He sighed a little sigh to himself as he watched the form of a smile grace Firestorms features. The stallion was happy once again, caught up in the shenanigans of the late-night news. Style liked when Firestorm got like this now; it reminded him of the old times, the good times. The times when the two would spend the nights together, cuddling on the couch and laughing together over all the idiotic and ridiculous things that ponies far and wide had been getting themselves into, and they cried together over the hardship and loss of others. But now—just like with all the other things Firestorm once was—this was different. And it made Style want to cry a little on the inside, the pain of yesterday following him around and shadowing him like some sort of spectre.

Time soon came into the wee early hours of the morning and the stallions chose to retire for the night, and prepped themselves for bed respectively. Firestorm showered, so did Style. Firestorm brushed his teeth for the night, and so did Style. They both climbed into bed, both turning away from one another, a pattern both have grow accustomed to. However, tonight was a little bit different when Firestorm rolled over and flicked on their bedside lamp with a wing. He pulled up into Style’s back, snuggled his chin into the stallion’s shoulder and groaned out quite loudly as he relaxed into the other body in front of him.

Style’s eyes shot open from the touch, he hadn’t been held by Style like this in over a month. He shivered and shuddered as he thought about just what was going through his colt-friend’s mind. So, inhaling sharply, Style dared to ask the stallion just what he was doing.

“What are you doing?” Style asked, a slight waver in the tone he carried. He did not at all sound confident, and, in fact, sounded a tad bit vulnerable.

“Well,” the stallion began, now gyrating his hips into the small of Style’s back, “I figured that since it’s a while since we have been a little naughty with one another, that we could be naughty tonight.”

“You can stop there,” Amethyst stated. “I don’t need to hear anymore.”

3...

“I’m assuming that you know where the rest of the story is headed, then?” Style questioned, choking back a little bit of a whimper. Amethyst nodded his head. “Very well, then.” Style cleared his throat a little and lead into Glacier’s side, whom was holding onto him the entire time that he was telling his story. “I will spare the details and give you the simple version.”

“Alright,” Amethyst said. He then looked to Glacier to see if that was indeed an alright response. And with the nod of his own head, Amethyst knew that it was truly okay.

“Well, to keep it short, Firestorm was not pleased with the fact that I was uninterested in having sex with him. So, he did was all jackassed, fuckfaces of stallions do, and he forced himself on me.” Style looked down, a single tear streaming down his cheek as he sniffled and choke back his next words. “Y-you have no idea how it feels to have your friend, your colt-friend, force you into sucking his cock as he slams a hoof into your side whenever you try to bite down on it to even attempt to defend yourself. And he was big—a big fucking brute of a stallion, that never deserves any kind of love in this world.”

Glacier clenched Style’s left foreleg harder as he began to shake and shudder in recounting his story. Amethyst extended a hoof and laid it on Style’s own right hoof. He was surrounded by two stallions that cared, and he felt that he could really let go of all the pain, all the torment, and all the anguish that had built up inside him over the years. It was the first real outlet for his pain he had been given and it was certainly helping aid him.

“And then he expects me to love him after it all! After he held me down and fucked me without consent, without any kind of lube—not even a little bit of kindness taken into the act at all! I felt used, dirty and disgusting; almost to the point of taking my own life.” Style then motioned to his left foreleg and then to his right. “And I tell you that If I didn’t have a fairly lengthy coat of fur, the scarring from failed suicide attempts would shock the ponies on the street, because I didn’t feel like I could redeem myself, like I was good enough to be loved by any-pony the way Glacier shows me he does! And our relationship is so new, and it feels so...right. But because of what the cock-sucking pile of zebra shit has done, I find it hard to call Glacier my colt-friend.” Style looked up from the couch, tears streaming down his cheeks as he choked on his very own breath. “And I hope that you can forgive me for that, Amethyst... I know that you love your brother, just as I do, but I just can’t do it. Not yet, anyways...” He looked Amethyst in the eyes, his own thoroughly bloodshot and glossed over with the trail of tears he had let loose.

Amethyst grabbed hold of Style and Glacier followed suit. They both squeezed him in an attempt to comfort him and make him feel better about it. It was truly fine, but everything and anything was prodding at the back of Style’s mind in an attempt to make him feel as if he were nothing. As if he could be nothing.

“It’s okay,” Amethyst screamed out, squeezing the stallion even harder. “That stallion is never going to touch you again, Style. Trust me, and even though I am his brother, I know Glacier would never lay a hoof on you like that. At all.”

Glacier just sat there, listening to his brother attempt to console Style, holding onto the stallion for dear life, tears streaming down his face, matting both his and Style’s own fur. And it wasn’t until Style was finally able to draw in one solid breath that he was even able to start settling down; it slowing the grinding of his gears. He peaked up and looked to Glacier and then to Style. With the anxiety lifting, the stallion felt safe there, like he didn’t have to worry at all anymore. He even cracked a bit of a smile now.

“Feeling any better?” Glacier finally asked through wiping his tears from his eyes. He looked to the stallion with a look of earnest concern. I don’t like when my handsome stallion isn’t feeling himself.”

“Yeah,” Style said with a nod, and Glacier pecked him on the cheek.

“I’m glad you do,” Glacier said with a little smile, still holding his colt-friend.

“I’m glad too,” Amethyst said, finally pulling away and wiping away a few tears of his own. “I don’t like seeing other ponies upset like that.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Style said, looking back and forth between the two with a smile that just kept on growing. Sticking out a tongue, he then said, “Now, all that crying made me even hungrier than I was when I got here...” Turning to Glacier, Style kissed him on the lips rather quickly before saying, “What are we gonna eat now, Glacy?”

“Carrots,” Glacier stated flatly before all three stallions burst out in conjoined laughter.

Chapter 10: I Saw the Sign (and It Opened Up my Eyes)

Chapter 10

I Saw the Sign (and It Opened Up my Eyes)

Rolling over with a little squeak of a yawn, Glacier faced his colt-friend, his eyes half-lidded with sleep still. The two of them laid in bed together, Style opening his eyes as well, the sleep just as prevalent in his own. He rose a hoof and removed the sleep from them slowly and Glacier did the same with a wing, bunching up the covers and tossing them down the bed some. Style giggled and pecked his colt-friend on the nose with the slightest of kisses before pulling back and looking into his deep, blue eyes as a smile began to grow on his muzzle. The way the corners of his lips wrinkled every time he smiled always made Glacier smile back. It was just impossible to keep from smiling when you have the cutest stallion in all of Equestria smiling at you, and Style felt the same about his colt-friend. Well, supposed colt-friend. After the events of yesterday, Style was still in the “friends” stage of his relation with Glacier. Though he wouldn’t disagree that his feelings were far more than just friends. Style would do anything for Glacier.

Laying there still, the two stallions continued to smile. Glacier wrapped a wing around Style’s midsection and pulled him closer until their muzzles booped together causing Glacier to giggled aloud. Style just kissed him back on his boopable snoot and placed his head on top of Glacier’s as the smaller stallion snuggled his head into his lager companion’s chest floof. Sure Style didn’t have as much chest floof as Glacier did, but there was still a little bit there—and Glacier loved it. He relished every moment he could spend in it, just snuggling like the big ball of feathery floof that was the chubby pegasus pony. And Style loved it too. It was different being with a stallion that would rather have you hold onto them and snuggle them close than them snuggle you in that way. Though Style did still love to get held like that and would ask Glacier to hold him like that a lot as well. Style was just new to being more “manly” in the relationship. Not to say being snuggled like a ball of fluff isn’t manly. It’s very manly, dang-it!

Finally rolling over to look at the digital alarm clock that was on his side of the bed, Glacier realised it to be far too late to be in bed: two in the afternoon. But it didn’t phase the pegasus none. What was considered to be far too late to be in bed by the many was absolutely normal for him; and he glossed over the fact that most would find it odd with a miasma of confidence. He liked staying up late and sleeping in late. It was his thing, and if any-pony had anything to say about it...he was lazy. Plain and simple. Nothing wrong with being lazy when you make an honest days pay by working a job. Right?

Sighing to himself, Glacier looked to Style with a wavy smile. “I guess that we should probably get up now, eh?”

With a little kiss, Style said, “That sounds great, my little goose.”

Glacier rolled his eyes and snickered giddily, sticking his tongue out thereafter. The two rolled opposite of one another and practically launched themselves out of the bed in unison, hooves touching the plush carpet of the bedroom with a slight thud. Looking back over his withers Glacier smirked at Style and stretched his wings outward in a circular motion to work them out from his night’s rest.

Walking over to the other side of the bed, Style pecked Glacier on the cheek before stepping over towards the door. In doing so, there was a knock which emanated with the thundering of uneven hooves. Taken back a bit, Style stepped back a beat before proceeding forward and opening the door rather quickly. On the other side of the door was Amethyst, whom jumped back at the abrupt notion in which Style had opened the door. He was slightly hunched over now and bore the face of a stallion whom was scared half to death.

“Hey, hey,” Amethyst stuttered out before clearing his throat and straightening himself out as if nothing had happened to begin with. “I heard the loud thud and just, uh, wanted to make sure that you were both okay. Yeah, okay...” The stallion chuckled nervously, shifting his eyes side to side as if to try and find something to take the focus off of him.

“Right...” Style said, his statement drifting off into the stratosphere as soon as it had left his lips. The stallion just took this as Amethyst being Amethyst, if his limited experience with him was anything to go off of. Perhaps he should have a little talk with Glacier about Amethyst later.

“Well we’re okay, silly goose,” Glacier said looking to his brother with a kindness behind his eyes. His brother’s warmness helped Amethyst regain his composure completely. He then walked out of the room, wrapping a wing around his back as they began to walk out into the hallway proper. Style followed them, closing the door, sealing the disaster that was Glacier’s bed off from the world.

As the trio walked the hallway, the drab veneer of the white walls was evident. They were sparse in decoration with only a few scenery paintings hung up with some sign of care. There was a little table in the hall, next to the bathroom door which bore a photo of Amethyst and Glacier when Amethyst was about 10 years old out in the backyard of their foal-hood home. They had been caught in scene—what looked to be Amethyst climbing over a young Glacier about to fall into a rather generously-sized puddle of mud. What had happened after the was taken was sure to have been a messy and hectic mess to have dealt with, especially for their mother.

Making it to the stairs and traversing them rather quickly, they all made there way into the common-room proper. The sweet sound of lightly playing music hit Glacier’s ears and caused the stallion to perk them up. He looked to his brother with a wry grin of a smile and snickered slightly. “New Colts on the Block, really?” The stallion then snickered, “I thought I was the gay one.”

“Hey,” Amethyst said, looking over to his brother with a smirk of his own. “I am pretty gay, if you don’t remember. Nothing like a big cock waving around between another stallion’s legs to turn my crank in the right direction.” He waggled his eyebrows in the other two stallions’ directions. Glacier rolled his eyes and huffed out in typical annoyance of his older sibling, while Style just kind of gazed off in the other direction, trying to avoid eye contact all together.

Glacier hoofed his brother in the arm “lovingly” and then motioned at Style for him to join his side. The two stallions walked over to the sofa in the middle of the room before Amethyst finally decided to join them. Amethyst sat on the armchair off to the side of Glacier’s right stereo speaker and Glacier and Style both sat on the sofa, snuggled up to one another as they were. Style was still trying to avoid eye contact with Glacier’s brother however, the mentioning of sexual activities and organs in any way clearly embarrassing the stallion some. Glacier didn’t take any notice of it, but Amethyst did. And, in typical Amethyst fashion, the stallion thought it funny to push the envelope a little further. What could it possibly do, right?

“So,” Amethyst started, straightening himself in his seat, “I assume that you and Glacier are...active with one another?” He smirked at his brother as Glacier shot up in his seat and smacked Style in his stomach hard, causing the other stallion to fold over in pain. Glacier attended to Style as Amethyst snickered to himself jovially. Nothing like being an ass’ ass to really liven up the room.

“And,” he began once more, “I assume that Glacier is quite noisy.” The stallion slapped his leg with a hoof as his brother’s face went beet red now. The reactions from Style were just icing on the cake: the stallion was trying his hardest to not go a form of red himself as he continued to crane himself away from Glacier all together. “He always was when he was ‘playing’ with his colt-friends long past—all while Mah and Pop were out, of course.”

“Amethyst Pen!” Glacier all but wailed out. He was trying to hide his face from Amethyst as well as his colt-friend, though Style wasn’t looking at him at all. Glacier didn’t notice that however, as he was far too busy being embarrassed beyond his wits end.

“Fine,” Amethyst said, raising his hooves up. “I’ll stop. Just teasing you.” He was grinning still and giggled a slight cackle of a laugh. Good ol’ Amethyst being himself was the best way to put it, and Style was beginning to like Glacier’s weird brother, in some twisted kind of way. As unlikable as he may seem to ponies on the outside, he really was a goodhearted pony and Style could see this. It warmed his heart knowing that Glacier had somepony there, no matter how awkwardly annoying as they might seem, to help him all these years. What is family for, if not to help each other?

Glacier looked back to his brother, the smirk still present on his muzzle. Glacier smiled himself before grabbing a fluffy, black couch pillow and throwing it right into his brother’s face in a playful manner. “You’re a total jerk sometimes, you know that, Amethyst?” he said. He then looked back to his colt-friend and nuzzled the bottom of his chin with a slight purr. “I hope that Amethyst didn’t make you feel too uncomfortable.”

Style looked down to Glacier with a slight smile and he giggled. There was a slight cock to the smile; it was crooked at the left corner. “Nope. Not at all, Hun. I’m quite okay with talking like that. Growing up in a family where the stallions always talk about mares in a rather...perverse light helps, I suppose. It is a little different to be talking like this with another stallion present in the room; I’ve never been able to do that before. Usually I keep quiet and pretend with other stallions that I am head over hooves for mares. Truth be told, I have never found one single mare attractive—I just think of them as really good friends.”

“Makes sense,” Amethyst started up before Glacier had a chance to. “I can totally understand where you are coming from.” The stallion sighed a little but it wasn’t an unhappy sigh, it was a sigh of content and knowing. “A little easier to deal with all this if you actually still find mares a little attractive now and again, like myself.”

“Oh?” Style questioned back. Glacier just sat there and watched his colt-friend and brother converse, letting the event unfold without interruption.

“Yeah, Glacier hadn’t told you?” Style looked down to Glacier whom just smiled to him, and then looked back to Amethyst. “I’m actually bisexual...” The stallion blushed a little bit himself now, the grey of his coat becoming noticeably darker. “Though I do find stallions to be a might bit more attractive than mares, I still can admire a mare in a more intimate manner.”

“So have you ever been with a mare...?” Style quirked his brow. “Sexually, I mean?”

“Oh, I have. It was alright, and the sex was good, but there was something missing. I can’t really put my hoof on it, but—“

“A spark?” Style asked quizzically.

“What?” Amethyst questioned back, not sure he had heard Style correctly.

“A ‘spark’?” Style said again. “You know, a deeper connection with the mare other than being pulled in by their body alone.”

“You...could say that, I suppose.” Amethyst sat there for a moment, just looking off into the distance, his stare piercing directly through Style and anything else in its path. He sat in a moment of contemplation, mulling over the real reason he did not ‘click’ with the mares of his past. He was sucked into a past world of self-hate, not knowing whether or not he really did like stallions more than mares.

“You okay?” Style asked, but Glacier hushed him.

“Just give him a moment. Got to let it sink in for a second. My brother is a hard-ass and needs time to take in things sometimes.” Sticking out his tongue for a moment, Glacier kissed his stallion’s chin and giggled. “I know Amethyst better than any-pony, just watch.”

And sure enough, it happened. The stallion looked to his hooves, his eyes pinpricks in appearance. “Yeah, about that. I’ll be okay, trust me.”

2...

Some time had passed, Style, Glacier, and Amethyst all deciding that the best thing to would to go out for a day on the town. Glacier was excited to go into town again after his slight absence to check out a new store that had just opened on the thoroughfare of Ponyville proper. The store attracted a new kind of clientele to the town centre, most of whom wore spectacles and had vests with little pockets, adorn with pocket protectors and pens.

The town centre was lacking the bustling nature that Ponyville was known for at it’s epicentre, but what it lacked in occupation it very much made up for it with the tranquility that the quiet brought. It was welcoming for Amethyst but less so for Glacier as he loved the busy thoroughfare. Style was indifferent on it when Glacier pressed a response on the matter, showing that the stallion was comfortable regardless of circumstance. The trio walked the dusted dirt trail and made their way about centre the main street. There, a dimly-lit, blue neon sign read: ‘Equestrian Word Processors and Personal Computation’. The door that sat beneath is was a standard affair of oak, painted in a blue to match the sign. The walls of the building were a white-wash, bushes of green plastered around the base and up along the sidewalk leading up to the door of the establishment.

“Fancy...” Amethyst deadpanned. He looked over the boring, comic sans text with a groan of disapproval and a role of his eyes. “They could have picked anything, any fucking thing.”

Glacier and Style looked at Amethyst in unison, confusion prominently plastered across their faces. The couple quirked their brows as the stallion looked over to them both, a pang of anger evident in his eyes. There was a fire that burned behind them, an unmatched unbridled rage coming from something about this sign. Glacier and Style were both dumbfounded.

“Can you believe that?!” Amethyst half yelled, throwing his front hooves around in various motions, marking him a crazy pony to any passersby. “Can you actually believe they did that?”

“...Did what?” Glacier said slowly and methodically. He pointed to the sign, to the door, and to just about anything else that his brother could have been upset about. “What the heck are you on about, Amethyst? What is wrong about all this?” he finished, placing his hoof back down on the ground.

“You don’t understand!” Amethyst said, approaching his brother. He grabbed his fur coat and pulled him close, their noses booping in the process. Glacier smiled and laughed somewhat nervously, looking from side-to-side as if praying for a way out. It was then that Amethyst removed one hoof from his brother and threw it behind him in reckless abandon, rapidly pointing to the sign. “The sign, Glacier! The damn sign!”

Looking at the sign, the pegasus looked for just what it was that his brother was freaking out about. “What about the...” Glacier stopped, a moment of realisation hitting him rather hard. He looked at his brother, his eyes slits now from the immense irritation that was rising beneath the stallion’s fur. “You gotta be—let go of me!” the stallion exclaimed.

Amethyst let go of his brother and Glacier fell back on his hind legs, his butt tossing up some dust as he hit the ground lightly. Amethyst leaned down and looked his brother dead in the eyes and said, “They have comic sans on the sign!”

The inside of the computer store was a proverbial breath of fresh air, the tiled floor of white covered in a sheen of light, which shone brightly across the entirety of the building. The floor was lined with approximately 12 rows of shelves, split perfectly down the middle, and each self was covered in various computation devices. Word processors, to full on personal computers, to a prototype of something called a “Pip-Buck”, this shop had it all. And it was everything that Glacier was hoping for. They even had a little section in the back that was reserved just for typewriters and other forms of a more “archaic” form of writing and personal living.

Walking the short aisles of the store, the trio stayed together for all of three minutes before Amethyst was off and doing his own thing for no good reason. And when Glacier and Style finally realised he wasn’t with them anymore, he was already talking to a short, white, pegasus mare at the cash register, chattering her ears off like a little colt. Her mane was a short, dirty blonde coloured thing, up in a slight bun at the back. With a role of his eyes, Glacier motioned for Style to follow him through the narrow aisles as they perused for something new and exciting. Glacier had been reading several computer magazines for the past few months, reading up on anything that might be able to push his writing capabilities to a whole new level. Perhaps something more, since the stallion did enjoy his fair share of interactive video entertainment in the form of the Neightendo Entertainment System.

Glancing over the few models of word processors that they had there, they had finally made their way into the section of the store completely dedicated to personal computers. Style had suggested they head over in that direction considering that Glacier was unable to find anything that peeked his interest in the strictly writing section. And as they looked over the few few models, there was something that Glacier seen that really caught his attention. So much so, as he practically zoomed over to it with an audible noise. He clearly almost broke the sound barrier in the process.

The computer in question that he stopped at was something out of a nerds wet dream and about a dozen of the computer magazines that Glacier kept on his bedside table. Strictly only for reading material, of course. That bottle of hoof lotion and Kleenex means nothing... He just gets stuffy when it’s cold in there and he likes to make sure his hooves are well moisturised. Yeah, that’s it.

Wood grain glory in all its beauty is what sat before Glacier, and the stallion began to drool. A stirring in his loins could be felt, though he would deny it. Style was poking his side and it was barely registering for the stallion before him. Glacier was completely enraptured by the device before. For the computer that sat before him was a modification of the critically acclaimed Celestial 128 personal computer. This was something else far more glorious and beautiful to behold. This was the Amiga, adorn in glorious wood grain panelling. The computer came stock with a 7megahertz processing chip, 256kilobytes of system memory (random access memory), and 128kilobytes of dedicated video memory along side a video controller chip designed for backwards compatibility with the previous model.

“You like this one, huh?” Style said with a slight smirk. He watched as the stallion acted like a colt in a candy store over the piece of equipment. It was quite the piece if Style was honest with himself and even if he didn’t know what it was that drew Glacier’s eye to it so intently, he could still see why the stallion liked it. It was part of him—part of something he really liked. The only issue that the stallion could see was that of the price tag for the entire unit all together.

Over one-thousand three-hundred bits just for the computing unit itself and another three-hundred bits just for the display unit. Style quirked his brow rather than freak out about the price. “Is this in your budget, Glacy?”

That was enough to snap Glacier out of his reverie as he jostled his head back and forth in rapid succession before looking to Style with slight confusion on his face. “What do you mean?” Glacier asked before looking to the price take Style was holding in his glowing magical influence. It was in that moment that Glacier’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head, and he almost passed out from the sheer, immense force of the shock. It hit him like a six ton anvil.

Style caught Glacier in his hoof as the stallion slid back where he sat slightly. He watched Glacier as he processed the price of the machine still, a slight smirk adorning the stallion’s face. It wasn’t every day that he could get to see Glacier make such a face, let alone one from something so little as a retail price-tag. Now, a scantily dressed stallion, wearing nothing but mare’s lingerie and maybe thigh-high stockings would be worthy of that. Something Glacier could possibly wear for him later in their relationship. Hey, there is always hope.

Trying to not think about Glacier in any kind of...compromising situations later on, Style poked the slightly pudgy pone in the side to try and pull him from his slight daze. Glacier looked to him, his eyes slightly bulging from his head still, but that subsided quickly as Style smirked to the shorter pone and it caused Glacier to smile with a crimson blush. “Heh,” was all he could muster as the taller stud looked down upon him at a slightly awkward angle. They were sitting almost directly next to each other, so close that they could have booped snoots if they had been the same height.

“So, you like this one?” Style reiterated, his emerald eyes seeming to twinkle as he spoke. He motioned over towards the computer in question and watched as Glacier glanced back over to it for a second before looking back to him rather quickly. He nodded his head rather slowly, almost foal-like. He was clearly infatuated with this machine.

“It’s really awesome, one of the best models they have on the market right now. I’ve read about it in all the magazines I have. Manufactured by the Celestial Company, the Amiga is one of the most technologically advanced computing units made to date... But you didn’t need to have the sales mare tell me that, I already knew.” The stallion giggled and blushed harder, his tongue sticking out between his lips slightly as he did so.

Style thought to himself rather hard in that moment, the gears turning around in his head evident to Glacier as he looked the stallion over where he sat. He stared off into the distance, nothing in particular his target. A cool expression he wore and a slight cock to his smile he bore. Waving a hoof before the stallion’s muzzle, Glacier attempted to get Style’s attention; much to his dismay it did not work.

“Hey, what’s up with him?” A familiar voice sounded out, causing both Glacier and Style to look over, effectively snapping him out of his trance-like state. Both Glacier and Style seen Amethyst on approach, the sales mare effectively at the front of the store, still letting the stallion’s browse for it looked as if they knew just what they were after in here in the first place. No need to go around bugging ponies that had just walked into your establishment when they indeed look like they are educated on what they want.

Amethyst walked around Style and sat to Glacier’s right, glancing at the computer that the other two seemed to be so absorbed in at this very moment. He seemed slightly confused and somewhat concerned all at the same time. Poking Glacier in the shoulder accidentally as he attempted to place his foreleg over his withers, he was finally able to pull the stallion close to him in a familial embrace. “This the one, bud?” Amethyst asked, knowing how his brother was when he had his eyes on the prize.

“Yeah,” Glacier started, “this is the one.” He picked up the price-tag in his hooves and rolled it around in them for a second. This was a lot of money to be throwing down on something that the stallion didn’t fully need. Truth be told, his trusty typewriters had been his second best pals for as long as he could remember. He wrote his first successful story on them and there was just something about the way the hammers thwacked against the paper as he made love to the words he wrote. It really was some sort of symphony and the stallion felt a melancholic pang in his soul as he even thought about all the memories on that he would be throwing to the wind in just purchasing the device. But there was the future he looked forward to as well, and he didn’t have to stop writing on his typewriters altogether—no-pony was making him do such a thing. He could always keep them as little show pieces to decorate his bookshelves, they were already lined with enough other sentimental doodads for the stallion’s past and present that it wouldn’t be too far-fetched an idea. The stallion put the price-tag back down on the counter next to the computer and stood with his brother and colt-friend.

3...

“Well, thank you for your business, Mister Wind!” The chipper mare sounded out as Glacier threw a weighty bag full of bits onto the counter. The bits clinked in the bag and it almost sagged off the opposite side of the counter, it was so full. However, it wasn’t the full payment for the machine. Glacier would have to come back tomorrow to pay the rest of the machine off. He certainly wasn’t expecting to spend this sort of money, and on such sort notice too. But whenever is the opportunity going to show itself again?

“You’re very welcome, Miss,” Glacier pipped back, smiling widely as he did so. Style stood to his left, a smile of his own on his face. Amethyst was about the usual one would come to expect from him. He was just really happy that his brother was going to be happy.

“We’ll have a delivery stallion deliver the computer to your home tomorrow, once you have come and paid the rest of your fees for it.” The mare then handed Glacier a paper with some questionable hoof-writing scribbled across it, but the gist of it was that a partial payment for the machine had been made and that the stallion would return tomorrow to make a finalising payment, and would then be taking the unit home. The paper was more a formality than anything from the looks of it.

“Thank you very much, Miss—“Glacier glanced down at the signature on the sheet before peering back up to the mare. “Thank you Miss Syntax. I will be seeing you tomorrow, then” And with that, Glacier, his brother, and his colt-friend departed, waving back to the mare as they made themselves scarce of the store.

Author's Note

Finally got around to writing out another chapter. Yay!

Chapter 11: Click Clack, Full Stack

Chapter 11

Click Clack, Full Stack

A needle drop, a crackle reverberating across the walls of the common-room, and then the sweet sounds of gradual music echoing out from the tower speakers adjacent Glacier’s stereo unit. The song that filled the air was that of a sombre tune, piano rich, the ivory keys pressed down upon rather heavily. There was an emotion behind the song, and it only grew tenfold as a certain pegasus cranked the volume dial about three-quarters of the way to the maximum; the booming of a stallion’s voice over the piano playing caused the house to shudder some. Glacier was so happy Amethyst was out of the house right now. He always hated when Glacier blared his music as loud as he could.

Walking away from the stereo unit, Glacier walked slowly over to his trusty typewriter. Sitting down, the stallion drew out some paper, placed it upon the platen, and proceeded to feed it through the mechanism thereafter. The sound the paper made as it was fed through the mechanical machine was snuffed out by the sound of the music floating around the room. The hammers came down upon the paper next, Glacier beginning to write out the beginning of the next chapter of his great work. The romance was reaching a peak, though there had been conflict just recently that had bumped the story-line off and caused some heartache and grief for the main character and his endeavour. But what fun would it be if everything was perfect.

Glacier typed away, smacking his hooves against the keys in a seemingly reckless manner. He would type a few lines, pause, then continue on his way, not fully knowing where he was going to take his story next. But sooner than not, the stallion was hit with a stoke of pure brilliance and off he trailed, not stopping for anything. Hours had seemingly came and went in rapid succession and he had already been sitting there for something along the lines of three hours. The song that had been playing was now long over, the first side of the LP he had put on crackling away as the needle popped in and out of the record’s lead-out groove.

The stallion looked down to the paper he held in his hooves, a smile on his face; it was one of complacency. He placed the paper in the pile of sheets that sat to his right, almost knocking over his now empty cup of coffee. Nothing like some morning coffee to really push your creative drive through the roof. Sometimes the caffeine rush was enough to make the stallion push on for far more than three hours, but he had been able to get out the end of his chapter and was satisfied enough with the results to stop for now. That, and he had somewhere to go. He had a computer to pick up, the bill still needing payment as well.

Standing from his desk, Glacier took the paper pile and tied a string around it skillfully with a wing and hoof. Proceeding to pick the pile up, he took the stack and threw it on his back, walking to the little closet to the left of his writing desk. Casting the door open for a mere moment, the stallion tossed his completed chapter on the third shelf from the bottom of a series of shelves. The shelving unit in the closet was ten shelves high and was stocked full of various papers, all of which contained the words of Glacier’s labour. Closing the door with a thunderous thud, the stallion took to the front door. Glacier took the modestly sized sack of bits that sat on the little table by the entryway, snatched his keys with one wing and grabbed his saddlebag with another. Throwing his saddlebag onto his back the stallion grunted slightly. He flicked open a pocket near the front of the bag and tossed the bits in, as well as tossed his keys in a pocket on the neighbouring side. With that, he departed his home, soon to return with a rather sweet piece of technology by his side.

2...

Some hours had passed now and Style was just finishing up work. He walked to the front door of the store, the shop’s keys drifting methodically through the air as if on a puppeteer’s string. He levitated them over to the door, grabbing the knob in his influence before twisting it slowly. He gently opened the door and exited The Beat Goes On and, with a few quick steps, moves and turns, the stallion had locked the store’s door and was now ready to head back home for the night.

“Oi, Style!” a particularly familiar voice called out to the stallion in question. He turned, slightly nervous and scared as to who it could have been there. But when he seen the icy-blue coat that matched his colt-friend’s he knew just who it was. Style beamed happily.

“Hey there, Ice Stream!” the stallion called out back to the icy-blue mare in question. “I didn’t think that I’d see you out so late. What’s up?”

The mare made her way up to Style and the two made their way down the road slowly towards Glacier’s home. “Well, I heard from Glacier today when he was in town. Something about a new, super cool thing that he bought that he just couldn’t wait to try out.” The mare smiled an incredibly goofy smile. “It’s been a little while since Glacier and I have hung out, so I figured it as good a time as any to come by and take a look-see at just what he was going on about.”

Even though the mare was beaming, Style could hear a pang of pain in her voice. He chalked it up to Glacier being so busy lately with his stories and with him himself that he hadn’t had all the time in the world for his best friend. He thought to himself that, perhaps, he should help Ice out and push Glacier back over towards her a little bit. He had been giving his undivided attention to him really, lacking on writing his stories as well, and his deadline on the newest few chapters was closing in fast!

“Well it’s a good thing that I’m heading over there too. Could always use the cheerful company along the way.” This made the mare beam even brighter and it caused Style to smile to himself. Ice was always rather jubilant if not rather bouncy in nature. She had a pep in her step as they both trotted towards his colt-friend’s abode and the energy the mare was giving off was rather contagious. Style had his own hop, skip, and sway as they continued down the way.

“Do you think Glacier has his head buried in his new computer-thingy already?” the mare asked with a giggled.

“Probably,” Style retorted with a slight chuckle. “I’m sure that that silly colt is head deep in some good reading about that thing, and is going to know far more than either of us by the time we get there.” He squinted slightly from the sun outside as he peered down to the mare with a look of questioning. “Question... Have you seen Amethyst at all today?”

“No...I can’t say that I have.” The mare looked up to him, her own look of question adorning her features. “How come?” she asked back.

“Huh?” the stallion said lazily.

“Why are ya’ asking where Amethyst is?” The mare then stopped and the stallion stopped with her, his height extremely prevalent with them standing so closely together and without the illusion of their canter. “Is there something neat-o going on that I don’t know about?”

“Actually, no...there isn’t.” The mare seemed to deflate a little bit, but Style quickly picked up the conversation to keep her mood from falling too far. “I ask because he said he was going to come by the shop today. Something about wanting to buy a gift for some-pony. Said he had to say sorry. But he never came by. I thought that maybe you would why he never showed up.” The stallion smiled down at the mare, flashing a little bit of teeth to brighten her spirits some more.

“I think I know who he wanted to get the gift for, but I wonder why he would have passed on doing that.” The mare looked the stallion in front of her up and down for a moment as she thought deeply. She couldn’t place her hoof on it. Why would he pass that up when he really needs to appologise. Regardless, the mare started her walk back up, looking off into the distance puzzled as she was.

Style picked up the pace and walked with the mare, although they walked in what was a rather heavy silence. Style was nervous to ask the mare as to whom the present could have been for, but reserved it as he thought it best to leave it be if she had not chosen to mention it of her own volition. So they continued to walk in absolute silence, save for the few times Style had taken the time to cough to try and break the monotony of it all. The mare, however, had not taken the hint and seemed rather content with continuing the remainder of the walk in the glory of it all, not exhibiting a single sound...ever. As void of sound as one could be when their hoof-steps pattered across the ground rather loudly. Style made a rather exasperated groan of discomfort and reeled back in a cringe of sorts but kept on walking at pace with Ice. She was Glacier’s best friend after all, no matter how eccentric she could be sometimes.

With a heavy sigh of relief as they approached Glacier’s abode, Style took the first steps onto the stoop, Ice following closely behind him. He fiddled with the door handle, trying to push it down before he remembered he had the gift of magic. However, just as he grabbed the handle with his magic, Ice was already bouncing in through the doorway proclaiming his colt-friend’s name at the top of her lungs...for all of Equestria to hear. Luckily no-pony lived close enough to hear her yell, and Style found comfort in that. He liked Ice, but boy was she a strange one. He could see why Glacier found a friend in her none-the-less, having listened to him talk about the countless times Ice had really been there for him when no-pony else was. And as he watched the mare jump in place and throw herself all over her best friend in a fit of joy, he smiled. Content graced his features in a way it hadn’t in many years. Being rejected for who you are by all you love, and being tossed to the side because you have to be a “real stallion” can really take a toll on a pony. Ponies have taken their own lives from such actions, fallen to the ground beaten and bruised from the words and hate of those around them; the ones who were supposed to love them. But Style was different. Glacier was too. And Ice was a pinnacle that you don’t need to judge the character of a single pony based on what you see on the outside, it is what is on the inside that really matters when you pick your friends—your family. Because, yes, you can pick your family too. And Glacier had done that as well; his brother was still here, and he picked Style to share his life story with, his passion, his love. Only some-pony truly willing to go beyond what society and others have to say could do that. And again, it’s not easy. No matter how easy he or Style may make it look, it really is not. Pain and suffering can came from that, and that needs to be remembered. Some things don’t come without sacrifice. But how big of a sacrifice you are willing to make comes with environment. Sometimes you just can’t afford to be yourself...

“Style, you came!” Glacier practically cheered, driving the stallion from his train of thought.

The tall unicorn grinned. “Of course I came. Had to see your new computer contraption working. Never seen these things in operation before. And,” he added, “I needed to see you. My night wouldn’t be complete without it”

“Such a charmer,” the pegasus replied with a cheeky and playful bump on the side of Style’s leg. He stuck out his tongue and motioned over to his new terminal that had been set up for not too long now. “And since you seem so into my little toy, there’s that too, tall-boy.”

The stallion walked over, taking the computer in, and looking upon it’s almost void screen. The only thing on it being a short prompt; a line of text that featured the letter ‘C’, a colon, a forward slash, and a greater than symbol in that order. After which an underscore was present and flashing. The screen was definitely less of a spectacle than the unicorn was suspecting, but it was certainly interesting still.

“I’m always interested in whatever you like, shorty-colt, but what is this? Whatcha do with it? Show me.” Style looked to Glacier and nodded over in the direction of the machine before smirking. “I wanna see what you can do now that you have all this power at your hooves.”

This caused Glacier to blush heavily but he took the helm, seating himself at his new workstation. Raising his hooves, he made his first set of keystrokes on his machine, and in the matter of a few moments an image popped up on the machine claiming to be some sort of word processing thing of sorts. Style and Ice were rather lost. Glacier however, was having a field day, and entered into the word processing program with a flourish of hoof work on the keyboard before him. He struck a few more keys and words began appearing on the screen as if he were typing them out on his trusty typewriter of old. And then he showed off a feature of the machine that subsequently blew Style and Ice’s minds. Glacier used the backspace key and removed words from the digital page without the need or use of correction tape or fluids.

“That’s crazy!” Style said in amazement.

Ice followed suit with a more mellow, “Wow...”

Never before had either of these ponies seen something so whimsical and magical in all their lives, save for the magic performed by unicorns themselves. But this was a machine, something unlike a pony in pretty much every way. How could it be so amazing? Regardless, the ponies stood their in shock as a smile spread across Glacier’s features and he continued to type out on the keyboard at his hooves, the satisfying clack of the keys sending shivers down his spine as he shot word after word down on the page before him. Making corrections in an instant, he was able to bring his words per minute up as well as keep his finished sheets rather tidy. Getting lost in his work now, Style snapped the stallion out of his state of bliss despite not wanting to. Glacier blinked at him a few times before he smiled warmly at him and relaxed.

“Sorry, I get lost sometimes.”

“Sure seems like it,” Style said, causing Glacier to blush. “But you sure got a heck of a lot down in that short period of time.” This didn’t help the stallion’s rapidly growing blush.

“Heya, Glacier!” Ice said, interrupting. He looked to his friend with the same smile he had given Style and awaited her to continue. “Where did Amethyst run off to? Style and I haven’t seen him at all today.”