Involuntary Voyeur

“You know,” Gallus said, stretching his wings wide and running a claw through his tousled crest, “if we pushed our beds together we’d have a lot more space to sleep together.” His beak split in a wide grin. “And do other stuff together.”

“Yeah,” Sandbar said slowly, “but then everyone’d know we were,” he swallowed, “you know.”

Gallus’ grin vanished and a sullen look crossed his face for a moment before it shifted to a neutral look. “Okay, it was just an idea.”

Sandbar shifted uncomfortably, shaking out a hoof that had been pinned under the sleeping griffon. Gallus had a point. He just wasn’t ready to be open yet. He kicked himself mentally, frustrated at his reluctance and wishing this whole thing was easier.

After Headmare Twilight’s lecture, Gallus winged his way over to his boyfriend. He landed and brushed the pony with one wing as he folded the limb back against his body. Sandbar blushed and Gallus hoped he hadn’t been obvious about it.

And then felt angry that he was even worrying about it.

“What do you want to do for dinner?” the griffon asked.

“Actually,” the earth pony replied, tucking a forehoof behind his head, “I’m kind of doing this extra credit project for Professor Rarity.”

“What, right now?” Gallus asked. Why would any creature ever intentionally skip a meal? Some pony ideas were just too strange for him to ever wrap his head around.

“Yeah, sorry,” he said.

Smolder and Silverstream approached and the hippogriff tilted her head. “Sorry for what?” she asked.

“Oh,” Sandbar said, “I just can’t make it to dinner tonight. But,” he said, “why don’t I make it up by taking you all out tomorrow night?”

Smolder rubbed her claws together greedily. “Free food is the best food.”

Working with jade was a lot more difficult that Professor Rarity had made it seem. Lacking a magical grip on the tough stone, Sandbar was forced to rely on his hooves, which were used to far less delicate tasks. Still, he was able to make progress, if slowly. He held the angled chisel in one hoof and a small mallet in his mouth as he twirled the green stone slightly on the wooden bench. He considered the shape, trying to figure out exactly how much to chip off. He lowered his head, taking aim, and then swung back and struck firmly. His teeth ached from the impact, the padded handle of the tool only absorbing enough to keep him from breaking his teeth. A slim chip of jade made a clinking sound as it fell to the table.

The earth pony shifted the stone around, appraising his work. It was rough, certainly. Not something you’d buy in a jewelry shop, but it was getting close to the right general shape. A little more off the top there, maybe? He set down the chisel and mallet and opened and closed his mouth, trying to work the soreness out of his jaw.

“Darling!” Professor Rarity cooed, as she walked over beside him. “It’s just lovely. You don’t think, though, that you might take a teensy break?”

Sandbar shook his head. “I want to have this done for tomorrow night. I think I’m close.”

Rarity nodded, again eyeing the jade in his hooves. “What’s the hurry, dear? Nothing that can’t wait, I’m sure.”

“Mm.” Sandbar considered. “I’m actually giving this as a gift to a friend for a special occasion.”

The unicorn’s face lit up in joy. “Oh, a gift! How lovely!” She patted Sandbar’s shoulder with a hoof. “You keep at it, darling. Generosity must be encouraged!”

As she walked away, Sandbar thought he heard her mutter excitedly about showing up Rainbow Dash.

Sandbar tapped a hoof against his saddle bag, for probably the thousandth time that evening, making sure that his gift was still in the bag. Gallus, floating lazily beside him, noticed the movement and raised an eyebrow. Sandbar shook his head and the griffon shrugged. The two were at the back of the pack, their group of friends heading to dinner at Cafe Hay at Sandbar’s behest. He had reserved the nicest table. He had saved up his bits all week for this, but it was going to be worth it. He hoped.

He touched his saddle bag nervously. It was still there.

No pressure. It’s not like this is going to change your life forever.

Except, you know, it will.

He swallowed past a lump in his throat.

What if he hates it?

There was that risk. It wasn’t exactly a work of art.

After the friends had finished dinner, Gallus reached a claw under the fancy table cloth surreptitiously and found Sandbar’s hoof. His talons tickled the pony’s fetlocks gently. Sandbar blushed but didn’t move his hoof away.

You’re really going to do this. You’re insane.

Sandbar gritted his teeth in determination. He was terrified, true, and he was never one to make a big scene. He felt the warmth of the claw on his hoof, and took a deep, calming breath. That warmth, that feeling of joy he got when Gallus smiled at him—that’s what this was all about. He just had to remember that.

Sandbar cleared his throat loudly and his friends all looked up from their conversations. All eyes were on the green earth pony.

You could just give it to him later, in private.

You don’t have to do this.

But he did have to do this. Gallus had been nothing but wonderful, and Sandbar knew it was killing to the griffon to have to be so circumspect about their relationship. It was time to pony up and be the stallion he knew he could be.

“Um,” he started.

Smooth.

Ugh, keep it together.

He cleared his throat again and took a drink of water.

Just breathe.

“You all know that Gallus and I have been spending a lot of time together recently,” he said. He was proud of how little his voice wavered. “Well, I’ve been a bad friend to him in some respects, and I want to make up for that.”

“What are you doing?” Gallus hissed at him, his eyes wide in surprise.

“The truth is,” he swallowed around the lump in his throat, “Gallus and I have been, well, romantically attached for a while now.” He turned to face his boyfriend, whose normally blue-and-cream cheeks were glowing red.

Sandbar felt his own face burning, but he pushed through the discomfort and the desperate instinct to run screaming for the hills. He kept his eyes on Gallus to avoid seeing his friends’ reactions. The silence was overwhelming. He reached into his saddle bag and pulled out a small, jade figure in the shape of a turtle. A small hole in its head was threaded with a length of twined rope. The figure was rough and uneven, but in all the important ways it was similar enough to his cutie mark. “I read once that there’s a griffon tradition about lovers exchanging crest feathers.” He glanced up at Gallus. “I don’t have any feathers, but I thought this might work in their place.”

Gallus looked gobsmacked, his beak part-way open and a blush creeping all the way down his neck.

He spread the loop of the necklace apart and leaned over, moving the twine over Gallus’ head and gently placing the turtle down against the griffon’s chest. “I love you, Gallus of Griffonstone.”

There was a moment that dragged into eternity, as Gallus looked down at his chest dumbly. Sandbar saw the smallest tears welling in the griffon’s eyes. Sandbar knew he had screwed everything up.

Then Gallus leaned forward and kissed him passionately. Sandbar was so relieved and surprised that he forgot to be embarrassed and found himself kissing back.

Their friends cheered loudly, interrupting their intimate moment. Sandbar covered his face in hooves, but peeked out from behind them quickly.

Silverstream flew up out of her chair and hugged Sandbar and Gallus in a tight embrace, squishing them together. “This is SO GREAT!” she screeched.

Smolder punched Gallus in the arm. “Pretty mushy for a griffon.”

Yona sobbed loudly. “Yak always cry at proposals.” She blew her nose in the table cloth.

Ocellus leaned back with a huge smile on her face. “Called it,” she said smugly.

The two were eager to get back to their room. They had managed to escape with only a pair of celebratory toasts, despite the best efforts of Yona and Silverstream, but Gallus still felt a little tipsy. That sparkling cider packed a punch. Who knew pony drinks were so potent? He felt the jade turtle bounce against his chest and his heart swelled. A warm feeling that had nothing to do with the alcohol in his belly filled him and he almost laughed in disbelief. He had wanted this for so long: to be publicly acknowledged in his feelings, with friends cheering around him. He bumped his flank into Sandbar’s, and the green pony gave him a broad, blushing smile.

“I really like you,” Gallus said quietly.

Sandbar’s face went bright red. “I love you.”

Gallus felt heat rising in his own face. Stupid, touchy-feely, manure feelings. He stopped walking and Sandbar stopped a step later, then turned back to face him. “I mean it,” he said, putting a claw up to the jade necklace and giving it a quick glance.

“Uh, I know?” Sandbar replied with a small smirk on his face.

Gallus huffed. “Look, what I’m trying to say is…” he trailed off, not even sure how to put into words how much the entire evening had meant to him. “Argh,” he chirped in frustration. He reached a claw up and ruffled his crest feathers. After letting them fall back into place, he pinched one of the larger feathers in his claws and pulled sharply. “Caw!” He yelled. “Damn, that hurts.”

Sandbar looked concerned and stepped forward, but Gallus stopped him with an outstretched arm. He handed the blue and yellow feather to Sandbar. He swallowed a large lump in his throat as the pony cradled the feather in a curled hoof, a strange look on his face. “I love you,” he mumbled, quietly. “I love you, Sandbar of Ponyville,” he said again, in a slightly more confident voice. “I love you, and I want to be with you. Not just tonight or tomorrow, although I definitely want that too. I want to be with you for as long as you want to be with me.”

Gallus was suddenly engulfed in a tight hug. He threw his arms wide and hugged back, putting all his feelings into the motion until Sandbar squeaked in discomfort. At that point, he eased up, though just slightly. This was his pony, and even if no creature was around to see, he was hugging him in public. Part of him wanted to stay in this moment forever. Another part, though, was eager to get somewhere more private.

“Come on,” he said, finally releasing his grip on his boyfriend, “let’s get back to the dorm.” Sandbar released him and looked back down at the feather still in his hoof. “Here,” Gallus offered, taking the feather back for a moment, “I’ll get you a proper necklace for it later, for now, though-“ he gently lay the feather in Sandbar’s mane, then deftly twisted two strands of the green hair around the base of the feather. The colors complimented each other nicely, the blue and yellow of the feather standing out from, without clashing with, the green of his boyfriend’s mane.

As Gallus was appreciating the sight, Sandbar closed the small gap between them and kissed Gallus on the side of his beak. The griffon put a claw against the pony’s cheek and drew him back in for a full kiss. He opened his beak wide and let the pony’s tongue play against his own, until he felt the stirring of arousal, and he started to pull away. Sandbar pulled back at the same instant. Gallus snuck a peek down the pony’s body and was pleased to see he had had the same effect on Sandbar.

“Ah. Yeah,” the pony said, in between rapid breaths. “We should. We should get back.”

Gallus nodded, while stroking one claw down the pony’s shoulder. The two walked off, their pace a little more hurried than it would have been otherwise.