Rainbow over Trottingham

Featherweight was so taken aback by the sight before him he could scarcely remember how he got to it. After the rain had stopped there was immediate chaos. Fillies and colts scrambling to escape their room, to get outside to validate what they were seeing. Cheerilee tried to co-ordinate them, calm their frantic bodies. They were all in their mid teens but Featherweight didn’t doubt that his teacher was very likely having some traumatising flashbacks to her class when they were first years. Featherweight thought of accompanying the lot of them, he was encouraged by Pipsqueak after all, yet it occurred to him at that moment that Cheerilee was trying to stop them going outside. It did dawn on him that even if they did get outside, then what? What would they do other than look upon the scarce sights and look on in envy at ponies who actually had money to spend on their day out in Trottingham.

Pipsqueak was reluctant at first, but with further encouragement from Featherweight, he was convinced not to complain about spreading the wealth amongst the class. Students accepted eagerly of course, but Cheerilee was reluctant to accept money of her own students. Again, with the same level of insistence he directed towards Pipsqueak, Featherweight was able to have her relent and accepted a portion of the generous sum her offered her.

Featherweight had expected when they left the Regalia that everypony would scatter in all directions. The pursue their own avenues fun. However, leaving the confines of the hotel had them look upon a weird scene. Featherweight, with all he experienced thus far, wasn’t struck with the same level of confusion the rest of his peers were, but still found himself pausing to watch. The citizens were like ants. They trod walking same direction as the pony in front, sparsely covering the width of the road. Featherweight recalled sharing a look with Pipsqueak, who shrugged in return. He had no clue what was going on.

Featherweight remembered the odd two word reply a stallion gave to Cheerilee after she broke through the small crowd of students. She flagged the attention of a passing stallion with her hoof; the stallion only spared her a glance, not stopping. “Where are you all going?” she asked.

“Sun Faegar,” he replied promptly, carrying on.

“Excuse you…?” Cheerilee rebuked with little commitment as her head tilted in confusion.

This vague answer inspired within Featherweight a deep feeling of curiosity, one which visibly flowered in several others as well. Cheerilee offered to lead a few students to where the other citizens were heading but she soon found herself leading the entire class, the colts and fillies with their bits within little baggies between their teeth. As they got closer to where the natives were heading, Featherweight’s ear pricked at the sound of… music? Laughter and boisterous voices. Is this where they were all heading towards?

It was when the class stood before their destination that they were all given pause, a staring completely still, as if they had locked eyes with a deadly cockatrice. It was certainly coaxed out of them the same level of surprise, the coloured lights and quickly summoned festivities came as a shock to Featherweight and he guessed those around him as well. Despite his outward expression of being awestruck, inside he was smiling like a fool. Erected everywhere were stands and tents, with entertainers and preformed traipsing around. They had painted on their features the sun, wearing excessive beams whilst some ponies shambled around in white and grey, looking like clouds; carrying large water droplet shaped lollipops in a box hanging from their neck.

Featherweight was content with just staying by his teacher, but others were not. As though being swept away by the majesty of it all. A few of his peers simply wandered off, making way for the nearing food or games stand, typically in pairs or trios.

“Wait, wait!” Cheerilee called, trying to stop them, a frantic look in her eye. Although her voice fell on deaf ears, and she sighed, head fallen in exasperation. “Be back at the Regalia by eight!” she decreed, taking off like the rest of them; leaving Featherweight standing a sea of strangers and bustle.

“Hey!” a voice at his side alerted him to the fact he wasn’t alone. “What’d you fancy doin’ first?” Pipsqueak asked, holding aloft his small share from the bag, glancing around eagerly; spoilt for choice.

Featherweight felt a rumble in his belly, and he gave the earth pony colt a sheepish grin. “Well, I wouldn’t say no to a bite to eat.”

“You just read my mind,” Pipsqueak smiled, hooking his hoof around the colt’s neck. “Let’s go see if the stereotypes about Trottingham food are true.”

Featherweight felt his face flush at being held by the colt, his sheepish smile unwavering. “T-that it’s good?”

“Oh no,” Pipsqueak chortled, shaking his head knowingly. “Not at all...”

And with that, Pipsqueak led Featherweight around from stall to stall, eagerly eating and participating in the games they had on show. Featherweight ate his fill, even if the radish pies and curdled lemon milkshakes weren’t exactly suited to his tongue. The colts both spend numerous bits playing the games they had on offer. Hook a duck, ball throwing, even bobbing for apples. Each piece of food and each go at a game cost only a singular bit, and Featherweight thought they were well worth the price. There were light jibs at each others skill with a ball, or the ability to stomach some particularly unpleasant offal, but by the time the sun began its slow decline, Featherweight’s jaw ached from smiling for so long.

“I’m out of bits and we’re almost out of time,” Pipsqueak said, haggard but disappointed all the same.

Featherweight frowned. He saw less and less of his classmates around, and even Cheerilee was nowhere to be seen. However, he didn’t want it to end, not yet. There was something that felt distinctly incomplete about it. He was happy. Extremely so. It was supposed to mount to something, wasn’t it? He saw Pipsqueak looking with disappointment into his empty sack, but he still felt a weight in his own.

“I-I’ve got two bits left,” he informed, wearing an encouraging smile.

Pipsqueak smirked. “I guess it’s good you don’t have my appetite,” he remarked. “What are you gonna spend it on?”

“What are we going to spend it on,” he corrected.

Pipsqueak’s grin grew larger. “Cool. What’d you have in mind? Some more food, maybe one last go at a game?”

“O-oh, well, I was thinking that...” Featherweight trailed off, limply pointing his hoof forwards.

Pipsqueak followed where Featherweight’s hoof was pointed, blinking in apparent surprise. It was something they had all seen when they entered the fair, a huge wheel which scraped the sparsely clouded sky. Large seats gently swayed back and forth as the wheel spun, sat in by mares and their accompanying stallions. Whether or not Pipsqueak was oblivious to that was unknown to Featherweight, who heartbeat quickened in his chest in anticipation of his answer.

“A Ferris wheel?” Pipsqueak said, brow raised, looking at Featherweight with a grin. “Can’t you already get the same view from flying?”

“Yeah, w-well, I just thought-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he assured, his smile soft. “I’d like to see what my home city looks like from so high. Especially with you, if that doesn’t sound too weird,” the earth colt smirked, although it was his turn to have flushed cheeks.

The remark came as a surprise to Featherweight, but no less made him smile at Pipsqueak’s receptiveness. “O-oh, good! Should we…?”

“Lead the way,” Pipsqueak offered. “Celestia knows I’ve been dragging you all over this fair,” he ended with self-deprecating grin.

“O-okay,” Featherweight nodded, his body becoming warm despite the encroaching cold.

The winged colt walked ahead at an even pace, not too fast nor too slow. The wheel ahead spun at a leisurely pace, stopping every few moments to offer the ponies in the top-most seat a view of the surrounding area and the ones in the bottom-most to get off and allow new ponies to take their place. The attendant was a mare wearing a gentle grin, who nodded towards the colts in acknowledgement as they approached her.

“The two of you?” she said, voice twanging with an accent.

“Yes,” Featherweight replied, dropping the two bits into the frog of her extended hoof.

With that she tossed the bits into a nearby hat, bringing the wheel to a stop the next time one of the chairs aligned with the chain link barring entry. “All aboard,” she said with a warm smile, the two colts giving her a nod as they passed by her, getting onboard.

The seats were snug, forcing the two colts to press their sides into one another. Pipsqueak didn’t appear fazed, but Featherweight had to consciously push that simple fact out of his head. They were thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder, their hooves almost touching as they rested on the bar that kept them safely inside the seat. As the wheel began to make its slow climb – the chair rocking gently back and forth as they ascended – Featherweight found his eye constantly glancing to the colt at his side. As the day progressed, he became less abashed in gawking at the colt. When love’s switch was flipped, it gave way to something he never felt towards another before. It was attraction. The coltish frame of Pipsqueak was underlined with the lithe muscle not uncommon in earth ponies. It was an admirable sight, which made his heart thump and his face blush.

“Are you alright? Not afraid of heights are ya?” Pipsqueak chortled at his jest, nudging the colt out of his doughy eyed stare.

“No...” Featherweight replied anxiously, looking out ahead with an empty expression. The three story buildings began to fall below his line of sight, his hooves idly kicking back and forth as the wheel climbed them higher.

“Is something the matter?” Pipsqueak asked, concerned. “Ever since we’ve come here, you’ve been acting a bit weird. Ever since we arrived, I started to notice… things.”

“What things?” Featherweight asked passively looking ahead at the pink and orange horizon.

“Well, you’ve been blushing constantly for one – yeah, I noticed,” Pipsqueak said, rushing out his sentence prematurely to counter Featherweight’s expression of shock. “I mean, I would’ve thought you were just sick, or something, but if you were you would have said something.”

“I… I can’t say,” Featherweight almost chocked on his words, glancing away.

The wheel was nearly at its peak, and the view would have taken his breath away if he were not holding it in. He could see seagulls and pigeons roosting on rooftops, likely having had their fill of fallen fair food. The sun being on the horizon meant that his eyes could afford to look upon it. It looked as though it was submerging into the ocean, the sky above twinkling with the emergence of stars as a rainbow crescent lorded over the city’s edge.

Featherweight’s eyes widened as he saw his friend’s hoof coil around his own, prompting him to dart his eyes to Pipsqueak. “Wha-”

“I care about you, alright?” Pipsqueak admitted. Despite his pinked cheeks his expression remained stern, his grip just as firm and assuring. “Please, tell me what’s wro-”

Featherweight couldn’t help himself. His own eyes were locked in wide-eyed shock with Pipsqueak. His lips were puckered and pressed against the colt’s next to him. It could barely be called a kiss, as Pipsqueak didn’t reciprocate. He just kept his lips pursed, his body frozen. Featherweight was carried forwards by nothing more than the feeling of the moment, but the contact of their lips felt like an explosion of euphoria to the young pegasus. A moment of gratification that sent his heart into a one-sided punching match with his ribcage.

Half a minute passed, and Featherweight pulled away with a timid slowness, the wheel ending at its zenith, the two colts the highest ponies in Trottingham at that moment. No words were uttered from Featherweight’s tongue, his eyes looking downward, his temperament similar to that of a guilty foal. His shame was only heightened when he felt Pipsqueak’s grip around his hoof around waver, until it was let go entirely, leaving his hoof cold and alone, the fire that had warmed him from inside out faltered, the cold breeze penetrating his coat. Not even the heat from the colt next to him could ease his chill.

As if to match his mood, he gradually came down again, the sky becoming black with night. He didn’t cast a glance to the nice attendant, nor did he risk looking at the colt who walked alongside him. He felt humiliated and pathetic, his eyes holding a thin layer of moisture as tears threatened to fall from them, held back only by his desire to not appear even more wretched than he already was. He remembered the route back to the Regalia easy enough, entering ahead of Pipsqueak into the empty hotel lobby. He glanced the clock. Miraculously they only a couple minutes late, but despite how early it was in the evening Featherweight supposed the rest of his classmates were as fatigued as he was. He wasn’t sparing with the energy expenditure, and his body was asking for a pretty hefty bill.

He passed by the counter, the nameless bellhop drooling as he snoozed with his head on top of it. At least he was getting some sleep. Featherweight then climbed up the stairs wordlessly, hearing them creak the weight of the colt behind him.

The room was dense with something besides dust when the door closed behind him: awkwardness.

Featherweight wished he could’ve sought out the elderly griffon’s advice at this moment, but from the sounds of it, his kiss with Matilda was entirely mutual – he couldn’t say the same for his. He climbed onto the bed, limbs heavy, and simply fell onto his side, eyes clenched closed, trying to force the memory of the day out of his mind. His talk with Cheerilee, the life lesson from Calvino, the experience in the soda shop and the every hour at the fair. All of it. He hated the day as much as he hated himself. He felt the bed shift as a weight fell down on the adjacent side. Figures. Pipsqueak was likely just as tired as he was.

Between them was a pretty large gap and mutual silence. A minute passed, then several, and soon enough Featherweight felt ready to be embraced by dreams…

“What was that?” he heard Pipsqueak say, his voice was quiet, diffident.

Featherweight opened his eyes but he didn’t look back. “A kiss...”

“Oh… why?” Pipsqueak probed.

Featherweight shifted on the bed. He pulled the corner of the blanket to his chest, pursing his lips with reluctance. “I love you,” he murmured. “I love you,” he repeated, somewhat louder, just to feel again that pleasant heat in his chest.

Pipsqueak was quiet for a worryingly long time, enough to make Featherweight hug the sheet even tighter. Should he have admitted to that?

“Cool...” he uttered finally.

“...’Cool’?” Featherweight iterated Pipsqueak, almost scoffing, the almost indifference in his voice bringing a small smile to his lips.

“Y-yeah, I mean, what d’ya say to somepony who tells you that?” the colt’s voice was almost skittish.

“It is quite a load to drop on someone’s shoulders. Sorry,” Featherweight replied, tone apologetic.

“No biggie,” Pipsqueak said, smirking. “I mean, it should really be me apologisin’.”

“Why?” Featherweight asked, brows furrowed.

“If I had known I was so lovable-”

“Shut up,” Featherweight laughed, snorting.

After the two shared a laugh, the room was quiet again. The awkwardness was still very much present, but the sad veneer that Featherweight had coated it in was effectively washed away by Pipsqueak’s light-heartedness. There was a lull, but then the mattress sank as somepony shuffled across it, and Featherweight hugged that corner of sheet even more closely.

“So… why do you love me?” Pipsqueak asked. His tone was gentle. As if he didn’t want to risk scaring Featherweight.

“I don’t know,” Featherweight answered. It was the truth. It was just a feeling her felt, a need to be closer to him, to have him in sight. But he didn’t know how to put that into words. “But if I had to guess, probably for the same reasons I like you as a friend.”

“Then why are you my friend?”

“Who wouldn’t be your friend?” he shot back, almost offended that he’d even ask. “You’re passionate about what you do. You’re caring. Not just with me but others too. You’re funny. And on top of all that you’re absolutely fearless…”

“’Fearless’? Not that I’m the one to shrug off a compliment, but did you see me when I was tied to that chair?” Pipsqueak pointed out. “I was freaking out.”

“But despite that you still put me ahead of yourself. You threatened someone for me. You kept telling me everything was going to be okay. I still can’t believe it...” Featherweight murmured.

“But… but I’d do that for anypony.”

“And that’s why I love you,” Featherweight elaborated, sniffling. He was getting emotional. He didn’t know why. “You’re selfless, and I don’t ever want to lose you. Friendships can end, but love...” he trailed off, clenching his jaw.

He didn’t want to say anything after that. He closed his eyes, tears building at their corners. He wanted to sleep now. He believed that the night should rightly end, and was prepared to let that happen… until it didn’t.

There was more shifting on the bed, prompting Featherweight’s eyes to open groggily. There was a pause, and then he soon felt himself pulled into a warm embrace, Pipsqueak’s chest against his back as the earth pony held him close to him. Featherweight felt an exclamation of surprise become lodged in his throat, and his instinct to pull dulled, and his body remained still as the colt’s hoof wrapped around his belly. He felt warm. He glanced back, looking upon Pipsqueak for the first time since he kissed him atop the wheel, and saw his contented expression, his eyes closed as he attempted to drift off to sleep. Featherweight was confused but he didn’t find any reason to complain. His lips trembled, risking a smile, laying his head back onto the pillow before gently closing his eyes, asleep in his Pipsqueak’s hooves.