Bare Your Heart and Share Love's Bloom
Star hoofball players weren’t supposed to hide their face in a locker.
Every time his teammates boasted about their conquests with all those gorgeous cheerleaders behind the bleachers or in the backseat of their super-rich parents’ carriage, there were certain expectations of participation. Loud, boastful, braggadocious, and everything in between, all of these were the marks of the boys in the locker while they hooted and hollered and exchanged hoof bumps. Those coltish grins nearly splitting their handsome, chiseled muzzles.
Quiet, nervous, and meek certainly weren’t among that list. And certainly not the star linebacker, huddled in his own little corner, forcing weak laughter while they joked and regaled one another with their exploits, then quickly affixed a smile to his muzzle and returned offered hoof bumps with all the sincerity of a foal apologizing for stealing cookies.
Shining Armor knew all of these things. Yet he hid himself, his head and neck buried deep within his locker as though he were searching for a book or checking the mirror for something in his teeth.
Frowning, he did find a little sprig of ruffle wedged between his incisors—spinach, by the looks of it. He grimaced and worked his tongue about for a few seconds before it slipped free, then quickly swallowed it down.
He was already facing an uphill battle. Spinach stuck in his teeth at the wrong moment would’ve been nothing short of mortifying. Which brought him right back to the reason he’d stuck half his body in his locker in the first place.
His eyes flitted up to his reflection’s mane. He bit his lip, checking for what must have been the dozenth time in the last minute alone to make sure it looked good.
Passable was more apt. Shining’s bangs had always been unruly, and his two-toned blue mane never seemed keen on laying flat or adhering to any style he tried to marshal it into. Cooperation? Not in the slightest. He could never manage to wrestle it into that nice, bouncing fluff some of the other colts on his team managed.
Shining let out a low groan. “Bolero could probably style his mane any way he liked,” he mumbled. He withdrew his head and slammed the locker shut. Heaving a sigh, he added, “And he’d still look gorgeous.”
The sound of fillies’ giggling and colts’ chatter made him flick an ear. Above all others, one voice rang out, drawing a goofy smile which would’ve spread from ear to ear had he not bit his lip again. Shining turned, his ears standing erect, and let himself gaze longingly down the hallway at the pony who so wickedly stole his heart and breath away.
Calling him a colt, or even a stallion, was an insult, really. Though he was surrounded by the upper crust of Canterlot Preparatory School’s social caste—thirteen beautiful fillies with perfect manes and dating, rugged colts alike—Prince Bolero stood a literal head and shoulders above them all and radiated an aura of utmost perfection.
Oh, how Shining could go on for hours! He might even be tempted to butcher poetry for Bolero! But where to begin?
Perhaps that flawless pink coat of his. How the fluorescent lights housed in the ceiling played such lovely games, trailing over every inch of his beautiful body to highlight how velvety smooth it was. Better still, how it accentuated those muscles in his legs, his wings, and—oh, Celestia—his flank. Such wonderful curves, such a toned figure with strength evident in every bit of him—and yet, in a subtle way. Almost restrained, shown only in how his muscles tightened and relaxed in perfect harmony as he sashayed through the halls with his entourage. And how those lovely pink feathers with purple tips would fluff and flutter when something delighted him so.
Every movement, every word, every laugh was poetry and song given physical form. And Shining Armor got to experience it firsthoof every day they met at school, and each time Bolero came over to foalsit Dusk.
Moving onto his mane and tail—well—to say they were the envy of anypony conscious of their looks would be a gross understatement. Magenta, regal purple, and shimmering gold blended together to form a wonderful flowing tail with perfect curls at the very end which bounced almost teasingly with his every step. His mane was a bit short, coming down to the back of his head in matching curls, not a lock out of place or defying his chosen style.
And then came his eyes and smile.
Even from across the hallway, that smile could light up the deepest winter, and Bolero’s soulful purple eyes had a way of making Shining’s insides squirm whenever they met his own.
The urge to dive back into his locker before Bolero noticed him leapt to the forefront of his mind again. His right forehoof raised just slightly off the ground and short tail twitched nervously, but he remained in place.
Just a little longer, Shining told himself. Today was the day. Or, rather, tomorrow would be. It would be the biggest day for everypony at Canterlot Prep, and all the high schools around Equestria’s capital city.
Fawning Flowers Day wasn’t necessarily a holiday, more a tradition. With most schools’ homecomings just around the corner, it provided everypony the opportunity to ask their dates out in a more formal manner. Typically, a strapping young colt, such as himself, would approach the filly or colt with a flower the same color as his own coat in hoof. Then, he would ask that they accompany him and offer the flower as a token of his affections and, if accepted, put it in the other’s mane.
Of course, there wasn’t a rule against arranging for dates before Fawning Flowers Day. If anything, the tradition was more a public declaration so everypony in school knew who was going with whom. Certainly most of Shining’s teammates had made arrangements with the fillies they had their eyes on, and some had already gotten their flowers.
And with homecoming just around the corner, Shining was running out of time. The clock was ticking and he’d been caught with no timeouts.
His last chance to ask Bolero, the Prince of Love, to the dance was looming, and Shining Armor could only stand and squirm at the sight of all those ponies surrounding his longtime crush and let his ears slowly droop.
Who was he kidding? Bolero could pick from a lineup of ponies. Why should he pick a nervous, fidgety mess?
Who was to say Shining wasn’t already too late?
“Hey, Shining!”
That rich voice made his ears perk back up and drew a sharp breath. Shining jolted out of his thoughts to find himself face to handsome face with a beaming Bolero, his entourage in tow, and those magnificent feathers fluffing merrily. The visage was enough to draw a crooked smile in return. Even with hope seemingly lost, Bolero just had that way.
The young prince raised his brows and drew in close, waving a hoof mere inches before Shining’s nose. “Hell-oooooo!” he crooned playfully, drawing a round of giggles and snickers from the crowd. “Equestria to Shining Armor! Are you in there, hoofball star?”
Blinking, Shining felt his face flush. “S-Sorry. Hello, Bolero.” He coughed and glanced down at his hooves. Celestia, he felt so pathetic. “What’s up?” he mumbled.
“Oh, this and that,” Bolero replied casually. That brilliant smile dazzled brighter. “Classes are a breeze, tennis is fun, Saturday with your brother and you was a delight, as usual, Auntie Celestia’s given me a reprieve from the heaps of magic practice and lessons on governance she piled on me to enjoy homecoming week—” his ears waggled gaily, giddiness creeping into his tone, “and the dance, of course! Are you excited?”
Excited? Well, yes, that was part of it. Terrified that Bolero would reject him? That was far more apt. But Shining kept his smile in place and ran a hoof through his mane. It was time to win some points—both with Bolero and the “in” crowd. “Is any sane pony not?”
Bolero laughed, and Shining felt his heart race. “Well, you’re right about that!” he said, patting Shining on the shoulder. All around them, Bolero’s little entourage bobbed their heads. “So, how about you?” the prince purred, raising his brows. “Does our star linebacker have his date yet? Or are you going to be all romantic and wait until tomorrow?”
All eyes were upon him. Shining shifted in place, transfixed by those wonderful purple eyes.
Why, oh why, did Bolero hold such sway over him?
“Uh … well,” he said, his voice faltering. “I was, uh, thinking tomorrow.”
Delicate pink ears perked up. The grin on Bolero’s face was brighter than the sun itself as he clapped his hooves. “Oooh! That’s adorable! I knew you had it in you,” he crooned, sidling up to lean his shoulder against Shining’s. Their cheeks touched together. “Is it somepony I know, hmm? You can tell me, Shiny, you know how well I can keep a secret!”
Even Shining wasn’t so dense to miss the near predatory gleam in some of those fillies’ eyes. Or a couple colts’, actually. The perks of being on the hoofball team, and a record-holding tackler at that.
But as much as he knew Bolero to take such things seriously, Shining knew what it meant to give him the slightest inkling of a hint of affection. Admitting he had plans was better than not, of course, because the latter would only fill the Prince of Love’s mind with notions of matchmaking—the exact opposite of what he wanted. Still, anything more …
Well, if Bolero’s talent hadn’t been in matters of the heart, Shining would put good bits that prying information out of ponies’ lips would have been it.
“I think I’ll keep that to myself for now.” He coughed nervously and decided to try to change the subject. “How about you?” Shining offered what he hoped was a teasing little smile. “Any hallways I should avoid so you can make some lucky pony melt in your hooves?”
Again, Bolero laughed. “Oh, I don’t think you should avoid any hallways,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “But I think I’ll have to keep my plans secret, since you’re not sharing yours.”
“Touché.”
One of the fillies apparently had enough of the longtime friends’ banter. She drifted close to Bolero, brushing her shoulder along his body from his hip to shoulder and leaning against him, no doubt earning the ire of several other admirers. “Bolero, we’re going to get caught in line if we don’t hurry to the cafeteria,” she said, fluttering her lashes. Her pale violet mane seemed to wilt with her pout. “You said you’d sit with me and help me with calculus, remember?”
Bolero’s ears twitched. “Oh! Right, I’m sorry, Sugarplum,” he said, his smile turning sheepish. “Excuse me, Shining, but I did promise her. Do you mind?”
Shining shook his head. “Of course not.” He returned Bolero’s smile with one of his own, then turned to nod to Sugarplum. “Watch out for the Riemare’s sum equations on that test. I just took it this morning.”
Her ears pinned, a keening whine built in her chest and gave itself voice, she looked up to Bolero with pleading eyes.
The prince nodded. “Yes, yes, let’s go get that taken care of.” He allowed himself to be tugged away, though not without turning to look back over his shoulder and wave to Shining as he left with his entourage.
At last, Shining let himself relax. His heart raced like he’d just run a marathon, a flock of butterflies fluttered within his belly.
All the while, a big, goofy smile spread across his muzzle. If he hadn’t been at school, why, he might just prance on the tips of his hooves!
Tomorrow. He’d definitely ask Bolero tomorrow, come Tartarus or high water. All he needed was the right flower.
His tail swished. “I know know the perfect one to get him.”
Deep breathing had become a necessity since the moment his alarm went off at six-thirty that morning. Shining’s sleep had been restless—he tossed and turned and struggled to find any comfort in his fluffy pillow. His brilliant mind turned against him to concoct visions of Bolero’s handsome face, once warm and caring, turned cold and aloof as he spat rejection in Shining’s and turned away in a huff to trot away with Sugarplum underwing.
Even as he stood before his locker, Shining suppressed a shudder. “Breathe,” he reminded himself. If Bolero turned him down, he’d do so gently. Kindly. He certainly wouldn’t burn eight years of friendship over a confession, not from his oldest and closest friend.
If anything, he’d insist on setting Shining up on some temporary date for homecoming, just to ensure his reputation wouldn’t take a hit. Then, if that didn’t lead to something lasting, he’d find himself dragged to Canterlot Castle for proper matchmaking and dinner with the Prince and his loving aunts.
This time, there was no stopping the shudder. Princesses Celestia and Luna were lovely mares, and always treated him well. But they never failed to tease, and they knew every button to push. The instant Bolero told them about his quest to find Shining a boyfriend …
Well, that first dinner back when he was ten would seem like foal’s play.
However, a pang shot through his chest. Kind though it might be …
It would sting a little.
Another deep breath. Shining checked to make sure no pony was looking, then swiftly unlocked and opened his locker to inspect the contents. Each of his book were neatly organized, standing upright against the back of the locker. A shelf held his pencils, pens, and abacus, and a plain oval mirror showed his handsome reflection staring intently at the clear plastic box resting on the lower ledge before his books.
His ears flicked, he chanced another look about the hall. On one hoof, Shining certainly wanted to make this special. Bolero meant more than he could put to words, and the way he made Shining’s heart flutter couldn’t go overstated. But … well, Shining was more known for sports and magic prowess than floral arrangements, but he knew full-well there were special meanings associated with certain flowers. Roses tended to be among those best suited for romantic gestures.
White roses, especially. Oh, there were plenty of meanings—purity, innocence, and certain claims of worth.
Namely, Violet roses tended to say admiration, enchantment, or, more popularly, love at first sight. Thus, it wasn’t quite out of the ordinary to see violet roses mixed in with wedding flower arrangements along with those matching the couple’s colors.
They were also, supposedly, quite rare. Meaning they were expensive as the day was long.
But that flower salesman insisted. “The way you talk about this colt, I can just tell you’re head over tail for him!” she crooned, a smile spread across her lilac muzzle as she wiggled her ears. With a few deft snips of her scissors, she cut and floated a perfect violet rosebud over to rest within that clear plastic box. She then slid it across the counter to him, her smile broadening. “Seeing as it’s Fawning Flowers Day tomorrow, I’ll knock a couple bits off the price. Five bits for a nice flower for the handsome colt you’ve got your eyes on.”
Shining felt the heat return to his cheeks as he hunched his shoulders. Oh, he really hoped Bolero didn’t take it wrong or he’d seem like he was coming on far too strong.
Biting his lip, Shining swept the box into his saddlebag with a deft little flick of his magic, then closed the locker door with a loud clang of metal crashing against metal, spurring a wince and another quick check.
Only a few of his fellow classmates bothered to spare a glance his way, one or two even fixed him with reproaching scowls before resuming whatever it was they’d been busy with. With a sheepish smile and hasty apology, Shining hurried down the hallway toward his first class, his goal the sole focus for the day.
Today, he’d tell Bolero. Today, he would swallow down his nerves and put a flower in that handsome colt’s mane, and go into senior prom with the pony of his dreams. A prospect which made his heart hammer in his ears like he was in the middle of a big game.
The bell rang just as he dove into his calculus class, earning a stern glare from Miss Limit Break. “How nice of you to join us, Mister Armor.” The elderly mare blew out a breath through her nose, jabbing an arthritic hoof toward his place—the desk right beside Bolero’s. “If you would kindly find your seat, we can begin today’s lesson.”
A smattering of snickers sounded from his classmates. His cheeks burning and ears pinning against his mane, Shining all but scampered to his seat, careful not to crush his precious cargo as he set his saddlebags upon the hook and slid into place.
As Miss Limit Break began her lecture, Bolero caught Shining’s attention with a little flick of his wonderful feathers. Shining chanced a sidelong look and nervous smile
His longtime friend waggled his ears, those gorgeous purple eyes shone like the sun itself. “Got your flower?” he mouthed.
Shining simply bobbed his head and gave his saddlebags a gentle pat.
He was ready, all right. All he needed was a chance, just one moment to get Bolero alone so he could ask sometime before school let out.
Working with a game clock? Shining couldn’t help but grin to himself. He’d done better with far less time.
Unfortunately, Shining’s lingering at his locker did disrupt his hope to pull Bolero aside before classes began. It wouldn’t have been so much a problem, until he realized one important detail he’d forgotten while sitting down for Limit Break’s lecture:
Their next three classes were on opposite sides of the school.
There was no time for him to sidle over and tap Bolero on the shoulder before his merry band closed ranks around him again, and ask for a moment or two of his time. By Celestia, he couldn’t even get a word in edgewise as it was, and all he’d meant to do before they parted was mention a quick chat later. However, those ranks did close quickly, and Sugarplum appeared by Bolero’s side with that pretty smile on her face so quickly Shining could’ve sworn she teleported.
However, Bolero’s eyes did meet his, sending that flutter of butterflies in his belly into a full tizzy. With a smile and wave of his hoof, Bolero called out his goodbye and promise to meet up with him later, though not without one last note:
“Good luck talking to your date, Shiny! I expect to hear all about it later!”
Later? If Shining had his way, Bolero would be the very first to know. But first, he had to actually get a chance to get that handsome colt by himself.
Other than a few passing glances and smiles shared in the hallway as they passed each other by, no such opportunity presented itself. Worse, every time Shining saw Bolero and received that dazzlings mile, it came with a reminder that Sugarplum was ever-present, practically glued to his side like she was trying to stake a claim. The only thing missing was Bolero’s soft, powerful wing draped over her shoulders.
Shining banished the notion from his mind. There was no pink flower in Sugarplum’s fluffy little mane. Until one was, there was no sense in fretting about worst-case scenarios. He still had time. Plenty of it.
The day was only half over, and he could easily grab Bolero by the foreleg and tug him aside for a talk while everypony rushed for the line. A perfect plan, if he did say so himself.
And Shining did, in fact, say so himself. Finally, those pesky nerves had been beaten back, and the confident linebacker with straight A’s had finally risen to the surface.
Small victories were still victories.
He rushed down the hallway, carefully to avoid shoulder blocking anypony in his haste. Only his nimble hooves, gained from four years of those accursed hoofwork drills, saved a pair of small freshcolts with glasses and a books hovering before their eyes from being knocked back into the lockers. Shining ducked under the texts, catching their eyes as he passed them by, and called back, “Either float them off to the side or over your shoulder! You’re gonna get hit doing that!”
Of all ponies, he’d know best. It’d been he getting knocked into walls before his growth spurt finally hit.
Shining turned the corner so fast his hind legs nearly slipped out from under him, his hip bumped against the burly shoulder of Blitzkreig, his fellow linebacker.
“Watch it, Shiny-flanks!” Blitz called in his wake. “You’re gonna clobber somepony with one of your turns one of these days!”
Laughing, he continued along his path. His eyes were locked on the distant cafeteria door, so much that he nearly found himself in a sort of tunnel vision state. Like he was on a football field, bounding toward the opposing quarterback as fast as his hooves would carry him, the ponies milling about in the hallway all blockers.
Although, it just might be a bad idea to bowl them over as he might actual blockers. A detention or two might be in his future in that case.
Shining burst through the doors, wincing at the bang they made as they hit against the walls on either side. That every pair of eyes turned to face him and every set of ears perked up, curious as to what possible reason he could have to enter in such a manner. A nervous, coltish grin spread across his muzzle. “Sorry,” he said with a forced chuckle. “Just in a bit of a, um, rush.”
Flat looks and rolling eyes were the widespread reply before his classmates and underclass ponies returned to their respective meals. One or two of the fillies tittered into their hooves, their pretty eyes lingering upon him while they exchanged fervent whispers with one another, only barely audible.
“He’s so cute!”
“Have you seen him on the field? Oh, such strong hooves!”
“I hope he asks me! Do you think he’s got his flower with him?”
The nervous smile upon his face grew more plastic than anything. His ears burning at the continued giggling and gossip, Shining looked about the room in search of his target, his goal. And, if he was so fortunate, his beau.
Provided Bolero didn’t have his sights set on somepony else, like Sugarplum.
Shining shook his head, banishing those thoughts to the back of his mind. Food. He needed something to eat to get himself ready. Much like a football game, there was no sense in presenting his flower to Bolero while nervous and hungry. That never tended to be a good combination. He’d learned that the hard way during his first junior varsity game.
The young hoofball star took his place in line just before the bulk of his classmates came through the door, granting him a chance to get a nice, hot plate of food before he got left with a lukewarm entrée and whatever pickings were left for sides.
If there was ever a small mercy in going to Canterlot Preparatory School, it was that, unlike his friends in his neighborhood, he was able to eat food a few rungs above the ladder from ‘it’s edible, so I’ll eat it’, Granted, ‘it doesn’t taste like hot rubber, so it’s decent enough’ hadn’t been anything to complain about when he was coming up through primary school, but it was nice to know that his father’s extra bits paid at least got him something passable.
Passable? Shining snorted as he levitated a tray laden with steamed broccoli, squash, and rice off the counter along with an empty cup and cutlery, and nodded his thanks to the lunch mares. When had he gotten so apathetic toward CPS’s fare? He’d practically inhaled the food his first day of fresh pony year—and earned himself quite a few disgusted looks from the upper crust for his troubles.
All except Bolero, of course. Bolero simply laughed and asked if he was being challenged to a race. “If you think you can out-eat an alicorn, I’m afraid you’re going to be having some tummy trouble later, Shiny,” the young prince had teased. “You know how my aunts and I can pack it away.”
And thus how Shining earned the dubious honor of causing Bolero to drop pretense and scarf his lunch in front of a cafeteria full of the sons and daughters of the most upper crust ponies in the land. Truly, a worthy feat.
A frown tugged at his lips at the thought of the missing Prince. The flower in his saddlebags tugged at his left side like a weight. Where in the name of Celestia’s shining sun had Bolero gotten to? Surely, Shining hadn’t missed him the hallway, right?
He took a deep breath through his nose and found a seat off in the corner of the room so he could eat his lunch in peace, and took up his fork to spear a bit of broccoli into this mouth. More importantly, this spot gave him a perfect vantage point to watch the door, waiting for a mere glimpse of Bolero’s handsome pink face, bouncing curls, and fluffing feathers.
But by the time Shining had finished his lunch, there was no sign of Bolero. There wasn’t even a sound of his muffled, boisterous laughter through the door.
His entourage, however, had made their presence known some time ago. Curious, Shining stood up in his seat just enough that he could see over the colorful heads and manes to do a quick count. Perhaps he’d missed Bolero when they walked in. A small chance, yes, given that Bolero was typically the head of their troupe and rather difficult to miss, but there was a first time for everything.
Shining counted out twelve—six colts and six fillies. Bolero was nowhere in sight.
Worse, he realized, neither was Sugarplum. His heart sank into the pit of his belly as he swallowed the last of his squash. “I’m overthinking this,” he muttered to himself, finishing off the last of his drink and rising to toss his trash in a nearby waste bin. “I’ll just go see if I can find him in the hallway. Bolero probably got caught talking to somepony, or he’s running late because he’s talking with a teacher.”
Yes, that was it. Nothing to worry about at all.
Shining deposited the remnants of his meal into the waste bin with a deft little flick of his magic, then placed his tray on the shelf beside it. He summoned his saddlebags from his seat, laying them across his back without so much as breaking stride on his path toward the door. If he was lucky, Bolero would be walking right down that hallway so he could meet him and get this flower in that lovely mane quickly. Then, if he was extremely lucky, maybe he could convince Bolero to abandon his merry band for a little while so they could sit and talk while he ate. Shining certainly wouldn’t complain.
He trotted around the tables, all crowded with rowdy, hungry ponies all at least midway through their meals. Giving a polite little nod to the tittering fillies he’d passed on the way in, he pulled one of the doors open, careful not to bang it on the wall this time, and stepped out into the hallway. His eyes flitted about as he searched, trotting along and taking a right turn at the fork. Bolero would be coming from Physics, if he remembered correctly, so he had a long walk before lunch. Shining’s next class was down this hall anyway, sort of at a midpoint, so it wasn’t any real hassle.
Even as he reached the end of the hallway and turned left toward his classroom, there was no sign of the young Prince of Love. Shining’s lips tugged into a frown. Had Bolero left? Had one of the princesses taken ill and their loving nephew dropped school to be by their side? Had Bolero gotten sick?
No, it couldn’t be those things. The commotion his little entourage would’ve made in the cafeteria would’ve given him every detail of the story from a dozen perspectives. The Canterlot Chronicle could only dream of such informative reporters.
But then, a low whispers made his ears flick. Shining paused in mid stride, his hoof still raised as he listened out, a smile blooming across his muzzle when he recognized Bolero’s voice. He let out a deep sigh, which mixed with a happy nicker. No emergency, no illness, the charismatic, charming Prince had just gotten caught chatting away, as he was so wont to do.
One day, Shining thought as he followed Bolero’s voice down the corridor, I’m going to have to get on him about that. Charming everypony with that smile and a few words, we’re lucky he doesn’t have to beat ponies away with a stick!
Shining looked up to find Bolero standing with his back toward him, standing near the lockers with a bright smile upon his muzzle while he talked with Sugarplum. Not unexpected, but something to deal with. If he could just get Bolero away from her, he’d be as good as gold. He took a step forward, his crush’s name on the tip of his tongue just as his eyes flitted to follow a flash of pink sitting in Sugarplum’s mane.
A tulip.
A pink tulip. And Sugarplum wore a smile that could’ve put a foal on Hearth’s Warming to shame. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.
His heart sank into the pit of his stomach. He let his ears wilt and head hang low, a defeated sigh escaped his lips. Shining squeezed his eyes shut. All those bits spent, all that time spent psyching himself up in front of a mirror, his hopes raised high. All so they could be thrown from the very peak of Mount Canterhorn himself.
Shaking his head, he raised it and made as though to keep walking. If he wasn’t going to get to tell Bolero, he at least wasn’t going to spoil the moment or wallow in self-pity. There were plenty of other stallions. Yes. Plenty of stallions for him to ask.
If only that darned pain in his chest would be so easily convinced.
“Shining?” Bolero’s voice made his ears snap up. He turned to find both ponies facing him, confusion on hers, while Bolero’s was creased with concern. “Are you okay?”
Shining Armor pasted a smile upon his face. “Uh, hey, Bolero,” he greeted, raising a hoof to gesture down the hall. “I was just heading to class a little early. Got a—ah—thing I need to talk to Mister Bunsen about before class.” His eyes fell upon Sugarplum, upon the pink tulip in her mane. His chest ached, Shining hurried passed them, careful not to meet Bolero’s eyes. “Sorry to interrupt!”
He heard Bolero call after him, but didn’t quite catch the words. Shining lowered his head and pinned his ears again, blocking it all out as he hurried to the end of the hallway and skidded around the corner.
It wasn’t anything to cry over. But, at very least, if he took some time to collect himself, he could fake a big, bright smile for when he talked with Bolero again.
A shuddering breath escaped his lips. It would hurt like no other, but how could he not at least act happy for his best friend? Yeah. That was a great way to look at it. If the roles had been reversed, Bolero would almost surely do the same.
It at least eased the pain a little. Just enough to make it through those last couple classes.
The final bell came as a small mercy at the end of a long, wasted day for Shining Armor. He sighed, only half-listening through Bunsen Burner’s long-winded physics lecture and staring off into the empty blue sky while a group of four from the offensive line presented their history project. Had it been any other day, he might’ve joined in the laughter when Page Turner caught the four of them reading straight from the textbook as they wrapped things up. If they were going to cheat, they could at least try to make it a good plan, right?
Maybe it’d be funny after a little time. With a bye week before homecoming, he didn’t have to stick around or cart over to another school, giving Shining a full weekend for some … what? Time alone? Not with his mother or Dusk about. They’d pick up on one of about a hundred of supposed tells he gave whenever he was upset and wheedle it out of him before the day ended.
“And then,” he said with a heavy sigh, “my weekend will be a long therapy session full of little niceties like ‘there’s plenty of fish in the sea,’ or how I shouldn’t get so wrapped up in first crushes because they statistically don’t work out.”
Not that he didn’t already know that instinctively. Shining might not be the bookworm Dusk Shine was, but he could certainly read up on subjects of interest. Besides, it wasn’t like there was a shortage of such books in Bolero’s study in Canterlot Castle. Books upon books on love—familial, friendly, romantic, and even just a want for physical companionship. If it involved matters of the heart, the Prince of Love had at least five books about it.
Shining frowned, flicking his short tail. Maybe a trip to the ice cream parlor or Pony Joe’s Doughnut Shop might help put him in a better mood. Enough that he’d be able to put on a happy face and not get the psychoanalyst treatment.
He gathered his books into his saddlebag, sliding them into place with practiced organization until he heard a crinkled of plastic. His ears twitched, Shining tugged the corner of his saddlebag with a tendril of magic, frowning as he found himself staring at the white rose he’d bought.
It stared right back, almost mockingly. Taunting him with what could have been if only he’d just spoken up sooner.
“Flower shop first,” he corrected himself, his frown deepening. “Then I can figure out whether I want ice cream or doughnuts more.”
The lone athlete laid his saddlebags across his back and trotted out of the room, hanging a right down the hallway to hurry on his way. Instead, he found himself nose-to-adorable pink, squared nose with a wide-eyed, smiling Bolero. “Whoa, there, linebacker,” he teased. “The quarterback is down in the backfield.”
Shining flinched back. “Gah! Sorry, Bolero!” he stammered. “I’m just … sorry, I’m just a hundred miles away today.”
“Ah, I’ve been there.” Bolero stepped closer and offered a sympathetic pat upon his shoulder. With a little waggle of his ears, he beamed. “So, I meant to talk to you earlier, but you hurried off to class.”
“Y-Yeah, sorry.” Shining ducked his head to hide a streak of red spreading across his snout. “I had a thing.”
“You mentioned that.” Another merry ear waggle. Bolero stepped around to stand by his side, brushing their shoulders together. “I couldn’t help but overhear you muttering to yourself about doughnuts or ice cream. Mind if I tag along? We can talk on the way. Or when we get there, if you like.” He gestured to his saddlebags with the slightest unfurling of his left wing. “My treat.”
Biting his lip, Shining let his gaze fall to the gleaming gold shoes upon Bolero’s hooves. He could see his reflection gazing back at him, the smile had fled from his face. Yet even in the polished metal, his cheeks were still flushed, his ears still perked, and in his chest, he could feel his heart beating like the bass drums heralding the team onto the field.
A friend would go. Even though it hurt, a friend would go support Bolero, ask how it went giving Sugarplum that tulip, and congratulate him. And, when asked, he’d just have to say that his didn’t work out so well and maybe ask if Bolero knew a couple colts.
He might have to suffer a session of love advising at the castle, with both princesses present, but at least it’d make Bolero happy. Better yet, he wouldn’t have to know.
The perfect plan.
Shining affixed a smile upon his face and raised his head so he could meet Bolero’s eyes. “Sure. How about ice cream?”
“Great!” Bolero beamed, his eyes glittering in ways Shining could only wish he could cause. With a merry swish of his flowing, curly tail, gave Shining a gentle shoulder brush and bumped him toward the door. “Well, let’s get moving! You’ve got to tell me about this colt you were talking about yesterday!”
His smile faltered, but he did manage to force a laugh. “Y-Yeah. That’d be just …” Drawing in a deep breath, he let it out in a slow, heavy sigh. “Just great.”
The pair of colts trotted down the hall and out of Canterlot Prep together, their shoulders brushing against one another with every few steps. Shining tried to ignore the delighted tremor in his belly each time they did.
This was going to be a lot more difficult than he thought.
A bubbling pink aura guided the straw around the tall, frosted glass, stirring the delicious strawberry milkshake within. Shining could never quite resist the urge to stir his milkshakes, no matter how his mother scolded him for playing instead of drinking. It was even worse when something was bothering him, or when he felt particularly nervous.
Across the table, Bolero gave a sympathetic smile and paused his sampling his chocolate milkshake to nod toward Shining’s glass. “That’s a lot of stirring,” he said. “Did it not go well with your mystery colt?”
Shining’s straw froze in mid stir. “It … ah …” His eyes flitted down to the milkshake. “I kinda bumped into him while I was walking in the hallway earlier.”
“Kinda bumped into him?” Bolero repeated, his tone held a note of concern, and a touch of disbelief. His smile fading, he pushed his milkshake to the side and folded his hooves neatly atop the table. “What happened?”
Licking his lips, Shining shifted in his seat. “I saw him in the hallway. With another pony.” He coughed awkwardly. “A filly, actually.”
Bolero winced. “Oooh! That’s—gosh, I’m sorry, Shiny. That’s terrible.” His ears drooping, he reached across the table to take Shining’s hoof in his and gave a comforting squeeze. “There’s plenty of other colts, though. Cute ones. Big and burly, or smaller and more athletic. Or a mix, like you—brainy and strong, wouldn’t that be nice?”
Would it? The pang in his chest returned. Just as he knew it would.
Sometimes, knowing Bolero so well could be a bad thing. There would be no avoiding one of his matchmaking sessions—perhaps not today, or even over the weekend, but it would come. Soon.
His lack of response only made Bolero’s frown deepen. “Would it be okay if I asked his name?”
Shining barely suppressed a snort. “I’d rather not say,” he muttered softly.
“That’s fair.” Bolero squeezed his hoof again. “I’m sorry. Is that why you were hurrying by Sugarplum and me in the hall?”
Another pang shot through his chest. “Yeah,” he lied. “I didn’t mean to be so short with you two.” Blinking, he ducked his head. “Sugarplum didn’t get mad, did she?”
Bolero waved him off. “She was fine. A bit concerned, actually. She’d never seen you so upset before.” He leaned forward, his head tilted and a tiny smile upon his face. “You know, a lot of my friends like you more than you think. They always ask why you don’t hang out with us.”
“Dunno.” Shining shrugged. “Don’t feel like I fit in with them, I guess. They’re loaded, my parents are middle class.”
“And I’m literally in the Royal Family.”
“Yes, but you don’t talk about that stuff. Parties and stuff, sure, but not about—I don’t know—the yacht Princess Celestia bought you or the Wonderbolts show Princess Luna financed for your birthday to one up her, or whatever.”
“The Wonderbolts what?” Bolero threw back his head and laughed, his gorgeous feathers fluttering gaily. “Good gracious, Shining, you come up with the wildest ideas! Do you really think they’d do such a thing for my birthday?” His eyes dazzled like diamonds. “If I asked, though, I could probably get them to do it for their favorite future soldier-colt, though.”
Sputtering, Shining recoiled and snatched his hooves away, careful not to knock over his glass. “What the—why—no!” he sputtered. “Don’t you dare, Bolero!”
Bolero waggled his ears, a vulpine grin spread across his muzzle. “Oh, I’ll just have to keep that under my wing in case you annoy me someday. I could even have Auntie Luna send you a carriage!”
“No!”
“Ohohoho, yes!” He clapped his hooves, cackling like a loon. “Oh, Shiny, you’re far too easy! I’m definitely saving this for one of your parties! Ahhh, but that’s for another day!” Rustling his feathers, Bolero shook his head and took a quick sip of his milkshake. When he finished, he sat up straight, steepling his hooves and giving the slightest frown. “So, I … I don’t want to presume it’s okay, but … well, you and I both know there’ll be gossip if you don’t show up to prom with a date. Or just not at all.”
Just as Shining predicted. He sighed and dropped his head so he could take a sullen sip of strawberry milkshake, its cool sweetness offered some comfort in his time of need. “I guess so,” he mumbled. “I’d catch flak from the team, and I’d probably hear it from everypony around if the guys in my Ogres and Oubliettes group got dates while I stayed home.”
Bolero gave a rueful nod. “Unfortunately so. As much as I love the school and my little group, they can be—” he rolled his hoof through the air as if to snatch the word from the empty space “—similar. This place can almost be a training ground for political gossip and games.”
“And you wonder why I don’t hang out with them more,” Shining quipped.
Purple eyes narrowed. “Don’t you use my own words against me,” Bolero scolded, his smile betraying him. “I’ll have to pretend I’m offended since I’m in the group, and that’d be most counterproductive to our current dilemma.”
“I don’t know if I’d call it a dilemma—”
“Don’t debate semantics with me, Shining, or I’ll add a parade to your birthday.”
With a roll of his eyes, Shining reclined in his seat and floated his glass over to hover before him. “You wouldn’t and you know it.”
“Wouldn’t I?”
“No, because neither of your aunts would actually let you.”
“Oh, Shiny, dear,” Bolero drawled, his eyes glittering merrily. “You would lose that bet.” He chuckled ominously, sending shivers down Shining’s spine before he took another sip and resumed. “Now, then, banter aside, let’s focus on getting you set up for prom, because I am not letting you go stag!” He paused a beat before adding, “No offense intended toward our friends in the forests.”
“I thought not.” Shining returned his smile with a crooked, rueful smirk. “I suppose you have candidates in mind then?”
The young prince bobbed his head. “Of course. Although, there is something about one of them that I … well …” There was a brief flicker of something across his face. His wings gave a noisy rustle, the biggest Shining had ever seen, and fidgeted in his seat. His brilliant purple eyes fell to his glass.
Nerves? The Prince of Love nervous?
What in Celestia’s name could bother him so?
“Bolero, are you okay?” Shining tilted his head, one ear standing up straight, the other laid flat.
“Just … I’m fine.” Bolero gave a lopsided smile—the same he wore the first time he brought home a bad grade and tried to keep it hidden from his aunts. “Just a little frazzled myself today is all. What with Fawning Flowers Day and all.”
Right, of course. Bolero would be a little off-kilter, no doubt fighting the urge to croon or fluff his feathers each time he watched a couple get together. Or, closer to home, when somepony offered those feelings to him.
Which meant it was time to be a supportive friend.
“Speaking of which, before we get too lost in my stuff,” Shining said with a smile, “how about you? I saw Sugarplum with that tulip in her mane, so she must’ve said yes. Congrats, bud.”
Bolero furrowed his brow, the smile ran away from his face. “Huh? What are you talking about?”
“Sugarplum. Y’know, that cute filly from your little group?” At the confused look Bolero shot him, Shining laughed. He just couldn’t help it. Of all the silly things to do! “I saw you two together in the hallway, remember? And she had your tulip in her mane, right?”
“Um.” The young prince gave a little chuckle. “I’m not sure what you think you saw, Shiny, but that definitely wasn’t my tulip. Hay, I brought an entirely different flower.”
“But … I don’t … wait a minute.” Shining drew back, his nose wrinkling. Something wasn’t adding up. “If that wasn’t your flower, then whose was it? And why’d she look so happy talking to you?”
“Raspberry Swirl finally got the gumption to pony up and offer her a flower,” Bolero replied. He gave a short, disbelieving chuckle. “Don’t get me wrong, Sugarplum’s a dear friend, but we’re not like that. In fact, if I’m perfectly honest—” the Prince of Love beckoned Shining to lean forward.
Shining raised a brow, uncertain, but did as asked and tried not to blush or squirm when he felt Bolero’s warm breath tickling his ear.
“Sugarplum,” Bolero whispered, “isn’t my type.”
Snowy white ears twitched. Shining drew back, his jaw hanging agape. “B-But, you two looked so happy together!” he babbled. “And she’s always so—I mean, I don’t mean to assume, but she was always so touchy-feely with you!”
Bolero laughed and shook his head. “Shining, who am I?”
Shining knew better than to answer with his name. He’d learned that lesson years ago. “You’re the Prince of Love,” the colt mumbled, abashed. “Romantic, familial, and friendly all the same.”
The Prince nodded. “Yes. And, that said, I don’t feel romantic toward Sugarplum in the slightest. Friendship, yes, certainly. But let’s focus on the issue at hoof, because I fear we’ve gotten lost in the woods, so to speak.” He gave a little cough, his voice lowered and took on a more serious tone as he spoke again, “There are a couple things I need you to understand. The first, no, I didn’t give anypony my flower. I’ve had somepony in mind for a while, but I didn’t want to go about making them feel obligated because I’m a prince. I still don’t want them to feel like they have to say yes, and I hope they’ll understand that when I ask.”
“I … guess, I can understand that.” His interest in his milkshake long-passed, Shining pushed it to the side to grant Bolero his attention. “So what’s the second thing then?”
For a moment, Bolero didn’t reply. Instead, he ducked his head again, that trail of dusty roses filled his cheeks and snout again as his soft pink and purple feathers fluffed and fluttered. “It’s something a bit difficult,” he admitted. “Given what you were thinking before.”
Blinking, Shining set his glass down upon the table and leaned forward, placing his hooves on top. “Bolero? You’re kinda confusing me.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “What else is there for me to understand?”
To his surprise, the blush coloring Bolero’s cheeks deepened. “The second,” he said softly, his horn lit cerulean, “is that I need you to understand that I don’t do this out of pity, but because I genuinely meant the first thing and I wanted to give you the chance to find somepony else if you wanted.”
His ears stood ramrod straight. Shining could’ve sworn he felt his heart leap into his throat and those pesky butterflies in his belly whip into a fluttering frenzy. From beneath the table, held in a bubbling cerulean glow, a single carnation in full bloom, the very same pink as the handsome colt who guided it to hover before him.
There was a flash of Bolero’s tongue along his upper lip. “So,” he began, “with all that said, Shining, I’ve had feelings toward you for a long time, but I wanted to let you have a chance to reach out to somepony else if you wanted. But since that’s not the case … would you like to go to prom with me?”
Shining worked his mouth wordlessly, his eyes wide and jaw agape. He could do little but nod dumbly, a smile tugging at either corner of his mouth as a bout of laughter bubbled within his chest as Bolero guided the flower to rest in his mane, the stem tickling against the side of his scalp.
“There,” Bolero replied, a winning smile upon his muzzle. His wings unfurled and fluffed, spreading wide to show off every bit of his perfectly preened plumage. A display Shining knew to be quite meaningful in pegasi. Among the three alicorns? Well, they did embody all three tribes.
Al those nerves, all those days spent hiding how he felt, all the times he buried his head in his locker when Bolero walked by in the hallway, every Hearth’s Warming he vowed to voice his feelings and failed, and today, where he had a chance and backed down because he misread a situation played through his mind. All culminating in this moment, his jaw agape, that violet in his bags, and Bolero’s carnation in his mane. The young hoofball star did the only thing he could really do.
He laughed. Shining Armor just threw a hoof across his face, the other clutched his belly, and howled with laughter, tears of mirth rolled down his snowy white cheeks as he let it all spill forth. And why not? He might as well have been the most ridiculous foal throughout the entire ordeal!
“Are you—excuse you!” Bolero sputtered, his voice sounded an odd mix of amusement and indignation. “I just bore my heart and soul to you, Shining Armor! Are you really laughing at me right now?”
Shining tried to speak, but the words spilled out in an unintelligible mess between bouts of laughter. He shook his head jerkily and summoned his magic, snaking it into his saddlebag until he found that blasted plastic box. Looping the tendril around the box, he tugged it free and floated it across the table to hover beneath Bolero’s squared pink nose. He forced himself to sputter, “F-For you! The whole time!”
Through his teary eyes, he saw how that dusty line of rosy red colored Bolero’s cheeks and a smile began to tug at his lips. There was a quick vwip-vwip of pony tail swishing back and forth in delighted, unhidden glee. He licked his lips again. “Well,” the Prince said softly. “I—you thought I was asking Sugarplum and got disheartened?” As Shining nodded, still chortling to himself, Bolero fluttered his wings. “And all this time I was waiting to see if you’d—oh, goodness!” He snorted, quickly covering his mouth with a hoof. “Oh my, that is funny!”
“The entire time!” Shining managed to say as he gasped for breath. “I thought for sure you’d pick a filly and go to prom with her under your wing, but figured I’d give it a shot until I saw you with Sugarplum today!”
The pair broke down in another fit of laughter, completely oblivious to the looks they drew from other patrons or parlor workers. Shining’s hoof thudded against the table, drawing a jump and clatter of glassware.
Then the cool touch of polished metal sent a jolt of electricity shoot through his body. His eyes shot wide, his magic fizzled out with a little shower of pink sparks. The rose began to fall, and would’ve surely hit the table if not for his free hoof shooting out like lightning to catch it as if it were made of glass.
His eyes, though, were locked, unable to tear from Bolero’s glittering purples. Shining felt the very breath catch in his throat.
By the Sisters’ grace, how was he so lucky to win such a handsome stallion’s affection?
“A violet rose,” Bolero murmured softly. His eyes flitted between Shining and the rose, a tiny smile played upon his lips, his blush didn’t abate. “Rare, but fitting, I think.”
“O-Oh?” Shining stammered. “Why would you say that?”
“Many reasons. Among them—” he cast a meaningful look down to the purple tips of his feathers, then his tail as he ran his hoof through his curly locks before turning his gaze upon Shining and gesturing to his mane “—it matches us, in a funny little way. Violet. It’s a union of pink and blue to form a lovely shade of purple few can imitate. Rare throughout nature, but moreso in roses.” His eyes twinkling, he leaned forward. “Almost as rare a colt as you, Shining Armor.”
His heart skipped a beat. Shining felt the heat in his cheeks redouble, the blush renewed. If his coat hadn’t turned as red as a red gala, he’d honestly have been surprised. “Rare? Me? I’m just … me.” He ducked his head and looked down at his seat. “I’m just a colt from an average family who can do magic and play sports.”
The cool touch of metal caressed his chin and gently forced him to raise his head until he met Bolero’s brilliant purple eyes. “You’re so much more than that,” Bolero said softly. “You’re a loving older brother who looks out for Dusk, you’re a brilliant student, an amazing athlete, and a genuinely nice pony who cares for others. More importantly, you care what others think and feel.” his gaze fell to the flower hovering before him. Bolero let out a breathy laugh. “You thought I was with Sugarplum earlier, so you just stuffed this in your bag and were going to play it off, weren’t you? The whole time, you would’ve just smiled. For me.”
Shining couldn’t help but break his gaze, his eyes found the table. “Was just trying to be a good friend,” he replied.
“Answer my question.” Bolero’s gold-shooed hoof touched his wrist. A pleasant shiver ran up his leg and down his spine. “Please.”
Biting his lip, Shining drew in a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut. He nodded once. “Yeah. That was … that was the plan.”
“I thought so. And that is why you’re not just any colt—” a soft nose nuzzled against his cheek, gently nudging him to face forward again so the handsome stallion could fix him with a bright smile. “—you’re a violet rose, Shining Armor. Rare, nearly unattainable, and beautiful in every way. Now, if you don’t mind.” Bolero ducked his head low, presenting his gorgeous curly mane. “Go ahead,” he said. “Put it in my mane. Since we didn’t get to wear them today, we’ll wear them next week.”
His face aflame, Shining licked his lips and asked, “You mean Monday?”
“I mean next week,” Bolero repeated. “I’ll cast a preservation spell before we head home. But first, I’d like to have my favorite stallion put his flower in my mane so everypony knows whose dance partner I’ll be next Saturday.”
Shining barely quashed a happy noise in the back of his throat. With trembling hooves, he took the flower from its box, afraid his magic falter and shred the delicate petals, and chose a spot right behind Bolero’s ear. The Prince of Love smiled, his eyes fluttering shut as Shining carefully guided it home, a breathy sigh escaped his lips when it slid into place, woven between his tricolored locks.
Then, cool, golden-shoed hooves slid up to cup Shining’s cheeks. Bolero raised his head, his eyes full of love and a smile that sent those butterflies in Shining’s belly right back into that fluttering frenzy again. He made to speak, but it came out in a hushed murmur, his hot breath ghosted over Shining’s nose as he gave up and simply drew in and sealed their lips in a sweet kiss.
The fluttering frenzy whipped into a tornado. Shining felt warmth spread through his body from his lips, his heartbeat racing like he was running a marathon. He let his eyes slowly flutter shut, tilting his head to one side to silently prompt Bolero to continue and deepen the kiss. An invitation Bolero was happy to take.
The tinkling of magic tickled his ears. He felt the arcane energy engulf his body, gently picking him up off the seat and floating him over the table, his tail just grazed the overhead light. All the while, their kiss didn’t break, not even when Bolero set him down on their now-shared seat and snaked his hooves around Shining’s neck and drew him closer, close enough to feel their heartbeats together. Soft feathers trailed over his body as Bolero wrapped his wings around Shining.
At long last, they parted, both panting desperately for breath. Shining smiled unashamed as he nuzzled, shuddering as he felt Bolero’s smile when he was nuzzled in turn.
“Wow,” Shining whispered. “Better than I ever dreamed.”
Slowly, Bolero opened his eyes. “Perfect,” he replied. “A perfect first kiss from my perfect colt.”
His cheeks flushing, Shining tried to duck his head and hide the smile threatening to split his face, but only ended up burying himself in Bolero’s warm, toned chest.
He could almost hear the way his eyes flashed as he crooned, “Mmm, and a cuddle bug, too, apparently. You’re just making all my dreams come true.” Bolero paused to press his lips against Shining’s forehead, then leaned up to whisper in his ear, “Of course, now, you’ve left me with no choice but to make sure your kisses really are so perfect and if you really do cuddle up like this all the time.”
Shining’s ears twitched. “O-Oh?” he stammered.
“Why, yes.” Bolero cupped his cheeks again and gently guided Shining to look into his eyes. “Do you have plans tonight, or would you like to go to dinner with me?”
His heart did a backflip. “I’d … I’d really just have to drop my stuff off at home, tell my parents, and clean up before I was all yours for the night.”
Humming, Bolero beamed. “All right. We can go by your house to drop off your bags and tell your parents, then go to the castle to tell my aunts and clean up—that way, we cut down on travel time with extra trips. How do you feel about Neighpon?”
“The place on Saddlebrook?” Shining dared to lean forward and peck his lips. “You know I love it.”
“I do. Then it’s settled. We’ll eat, we’ll chat, and then we might make time to discuss color schemes for prom.” He winked slyly. “Technically, I’m supposed to wear my nice, formal white suit jacket and pink sash, but I could be persuaded into a dress so my big, strong linebacker doesn’t have to spend all those bits and hear about it from his teammates.”
Shining felt as though a pony could cook stir fry atop his face. “I—I don’t mind if you want to wear your jacket or a dress. We could both just go in jackets.”
“We could, but like I said, I can be persuaded either way.” His vulpine grin spreading across his face, Bolero leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “By a strong, handsome stallion with a dazzling smile and wonderful blue eyes should he decide to indulge my curiosity on whether he’s a cuddle bug and kiss me after our dinner is finished.”
His ears stood ramrod straight, a dopey grin spread from ear to ear. “I … I am definitely on board for that.”
Bolero hummed a contented note, stealing a quick peck to his nose. “I hoped you would be. Now, come on.” He summoned their milkshakes to hover before them. “Let’s get these finished up so we can get to it.”
Star hoofball players weren’t supposed to hide their face in a locker. They weren’t supposed to be quiet, awkward, or cuddle up like a little foal.
But at this moment, Shining just didn’t care. He let out a happy sigh and laid his head upon Bolero’s chest, taking his glass in his magic so he could drink it together with the colt of his dreams.
And maybe, if it all worked out, something more.
