Subject: Fashion Plate
Age: 20
Place: His first apartment in Canterlot

The young bluish unicorn carefully squeezed his way through the front door, forelegs occupied with a large, flat, squarish object. The tiny hallway that acted as a mudroom to his apartment was cramped, and the door didn't open fully to begin with, making it even harder to fit the thing through the door. Finally, with one last exertion, he maneuvered it through, followed thereafter by the pony who'd been wrestling with the back end, another unicorn named Tailor Made.

"Could we not have just used magic to get this thing in here?" he asked, somewhat exasperated.

"I wouldn't trust my erratic horn with something this valuable, Tailor." replied Fashion Plate. "I'm far too excited to see how it looks on the wall! I'll go clear the path for us!"

Tailor had to quickly light up his horn to catch the opposite end of the parcel as Fashion darted off towards another door. Glancing around, he took note that his friend's apartment wasn't quite as disheveled as his own, though he figured a pony like Fashion would be a little bit more tidy; then again, the life of a student is hectic and stressful, especially when you're paying to go to Canterlot's most prestigious design school. Tailor was frankly surprised Fashion could afford an apartment this cheap-looking.

"So this is where you live, huh?"

"Yeah! It's... not much, but it's...! Well, not much. But it's mine!" Fashion called from his bedroom as he quickly tidied up. "At least until I graduate. Hopefully I can move out after I've struck it rich, y'know?"

Tailor chuckled. "Well Fashion, if anypony's got that chance, it's you, buddy." He paused for a moment to shift the object in his grasp to a more comfortable position. "I tell you what, this school's about beat that kind of energy out of me. But you hang onto that dream! Don't let anypony make you drop it."

Fashion emerged once more, smiling and rolling his eyes. "Especially Professor Hawthorne, right?"

"Yepshe'sanoldcow--" Tailor spat out as he staggered a bit. "Speaking of dropping things, if you don't mind--?!"

"Oh gosh! Sorry!" The colt quickly rushed to grab the package again and take the pressure off his friend. "Forgot how heavy this was."

"You're fiiiine. Let's just get it on the wall before I get a hernia."

It took only a few steps to cross the tiny apartment to the open bedroom door. Fashion's sleeping quarters were slightly less claustrophobic than the so-called mudroom, but not by much, especially with the cumbersome package in hoof, which the two stallions finally got to rest upright against the wall.

"There." said Fashion. "Let's rest a bit before we try to hang it."

"Way ahead of you." said Tailor, proceeding to flop exhaustedly onto Fashion's slightly ruffled bedspread.

"Hey! Who said you could use that?"

"Are you gonna make me get up?"

"...No."

"What is that thing anyway, Fashion?"

The younger unicorn excitedly clicked his hooves on the floor. "You're gonna love it! Look!"

His horn coming alight, Fashion ripped through the brown paper and twine that had carefully been wrapped around the frame. The two unicorns were greeted by a slightly dingy version of their own reflections. Fashion practically squeed in delight.

"It's a Vitre du Baltimare Soir Cheval-type vanity mirror!" The colt's eyes lit up as he said the words. "I won it in an auction!"

"Explains why I met you at the auction house." quipped Tailor. "How much did you pay for it?"

Fashion turned on his hooves and coyly winked. "I don't wanna tell you!" Turning back to the mirror, he ran a hoof along its intricately carved frame, taking in the faded, chipped paint and the slightest crack in one corner of the glass.

"Oh, the history behind this mirror, the dignity, the things it must have seen... it's perfect."

Tailor rolled over onto his side. "Wouldn't any old mirror have done if you needed one?"

Fashion dramatically spun back to look at him. "Not for admiring my designs! This mirror's 120 years old! It's dignified, it's fabulous, and my designs are likewise! ...Besides, I really like it."

Tailor laughed through his nose. He propped himself up a bit, watching Fashion Plate preen and admire himself in the antique mirror. He supposed if it meant that much to him, he couldn't help but agree.

"By the by, Fash," he said "what kind of stuff are you working on now? I know midterms will be coming up soon, and Hawthorne always makes her sophomores show something off."

Fashion gave a little gasp, unsure if it was out of excitement or nervousness. "Well, I..." he began "I've got a piece or two or three coming along... they're, y'know, kind of dapper, kind of turn-of-the-century. They're works in progress still."

"Can I see?"

Fashion felt his face redden slightly. He sat silently for a moment. "...You don't want to see my designs..."

"No, Fashion, it's fine. I do." Tailor hopped down off the bed to go comfort his young friend. "I know this school's been hard on you, and you've got a couple more years of it yet. But don't be down on yourself. Take it from someone who's almost done and just barely squeaking by: you've got the talent in you. You're going to find your way into this world somehow, be it designing, media, modeling, anything you want."

Fashion ran a hoof through his dark mane, not yet grayed by time. "You think I could model?"

Tailor froze momentarily, trying to think of a response. "I mean-- hey, whatever you want to do, you're gonna make it in the fashion world, I know it. Heck, Fashion's your literal name!"

Fashion made himself look Tailor in the eyes; they were a dark purple, something he'd never really noticed before. The care in those eyes, he had seen before, though. He felt his confidence swell.

"...Alright." said Fashion at last. "I've got a couple things I could try on for you, just to get your thoughts. Gimme just a second."

Sorting through his closet and various piles of works-in-progress he had about the apartment, Fashion slipped off to the adjacent bathroom to change. Each new outfit he would trot out with as though he were on a walkway, posing for himself in the mirror and for Tailor, who looked on giving advice on seams, patterns, and all the rest; it helped having an upperclassman as a friend, he thought. Tailor really was a good friend, and had been since he'd come to campus, helping him pick up on the intricacies of sewing, design, and how to put together an ensemble. He'd also had several of the same professors before him, and could help him navigate their eccentricities and pet peeves. They'd spent plenty of time together, in and outside of the workshop and studio, and they'd bonded over their shared interests and dreams. Tailor hoped to one day open a quiet little shop in Canterlot or Manehattan to sell his designs, or even just to fix clothes for ponies; his aspirations weren't as lofty as Fashion's own, and perhaps that level-headedness was what drew him to the elder unicorn.

As Fashion moved on to showing off a couple of designs he'd been working on for midterm, he found himself looking less at the details in the mirror as Tailor commented on them, and more on the stallion himself. His coat, a deep forest green. His mane, sea green and peaked about his horn. Some stubble on his chin suggested a shave a couple days old. He wore a necklace he'd gotten on a field trip they'd taken together. He tied up his short tail with a fashionable bow in an androgynous color. His voice was warm, and soft yet sonorous as he gave his advice on the attire, which Fashion half-heartedly noted down.

He wondered what he'd done to earn such a good friend.

"Fashion?"

He snapped out of his wandering thoughts. "Y-Yes?"

"I said you look good in that vest, dude. Looks sharp!"

The blue colt turned to check himself again in the mirror; it was a sleek, button-up vest with a plaid front and a neckerchief in the breast pocket. A decorative chain suggested a pocket watch.

"Oh! You think?"

"Yeah, for sure! Definitely use this in your project, see what you can pair it with. Can't guarantee Hawthorne will like it, but she doesn't like much of anything."

They shared a laugh. They stood silently before the mirror, just looking over the outfit, watching each other smile. After a moment, Tailor slung a hoof over his friend's shoulder, and he grinned wider.

There was another silence. Tailor gingerly raised his second forehoof. With hesitation, to the point he almost didn't do it, he put his other hoof on Fashion's other shoulder, effectively hugging him from behind. Fashion allowed it for a moment, before carefully moving himself around to face Tailor.

"Hey, Tailor... um..." Fashion unconsciously put his own hooves on those of his friend.

"Yeah?"

"I... wanted to thank you. For all you've done for me. All the advice, all the guidance, all the late-night conversations... you're... you're a good friend." He shyly spoke with his head down, and their horns were almost touching.

"Thanks, Fash. You know I feel the same."

"It's not just that, though..." Fashion butted in. "It's the little things too, y'know? The things you don't even think about in the moment. Like, 'You wanna come with me through the snow to grab a pizza?' or, 'Hey, let's chill together while we wait on laundry' or--"

"Or 'You're too stressed, Fashion, let's get you drunk'?" Tailor said with a chuckle.

Fashion couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, that too. So... thank you, Tailor. For being my friend."

"Of course."

Another silence came. They held each other in a tender hug.

"...Tailor?"

"Yeah, Fashion?"

"Remember that time we got really drunk down by Ponyville and started talking about our love lives?"

He chuckled again. "I remember." he said, knowingly.

"And I told you that I hadn't found somepony I thought was special enough to sleep with yet?"

"Yeah?"

"Well..."

More silence, as Fashion found the words catching in his throat. Tailor pulled himself back slightly, tilting his friend's chin up to look into his eyes. Fashion glanced away, cheeks red, but made himself meet Tailor's gaze once again, a tiny smile nervously getting his point across.

"Are you sure about this, bud?"

"I mean... I... I like you, a lot, as my friend... a-and I'd trust you with my life..." a shy chuckle broke up his thoughts. "I just... I want that first time to... to mean something, y'know?"

Tailor glanced away too; though his smile didn't fade, he wanted to make sure Fashion knew what he was doing. "Fashion, you're cute, I'll admit that. And I adore watching you get passionate about your art. But I don't think we'd work out in the long-term. I'm just not that kind of pony."

"I don't think I care, Tailor." Fashion said, just above a whisper. "I just... I want this to happen. I want to show you how much I care... and it'll definitely mean something to me, even if it... doesn't turn into... you know..."

"Bud, you can show me... any number of ways you care." he replied with a chuckle. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Do you like me?"

"A-- I-- yes, I like you; you're my friend, I admitted you were cute--"

"And you're not opposed to the idea?"

"...No. I'm not. Not at all. I just want to make sure you know that this is what you want."

Fashion Plate's face was bright red now. He glanced at the floor, his ears pinned back in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. Would this be a mistake? He didn't know. But he knew he cared deeply about Tailor Made. And in this moment, it was a mistake he was willing to make.

He summoned all his courage, quickly slipped a hoof behind Tailor's head, and pulled him into a deep kiss. Tailor was surprised at first, but gave himself into it. He'd kissed a few colts in his day, but few had the passion within them that Fashion seemed to now.

After what felt like an eternity, they broke the kiss and stared into each other's eyes, just breathing, horns but a hair apart.

"Does that answer your question?"

Tailor smiled. He supposed if he was dead-set on it, he should make it worth his while. He felt Fashion tremble in his hooves as he glanced down between their bodies. Glancing back up, he gestured with his eyes to the bed.

"Come on, dude. There's more I can teach you about than just clothes."

As their hearts joined in a friendship deeper than friendship that day, the antique mirror added one more event to the list of things it had seen.

Author's Note

Hadn't intended for two fashion ponies to follow each other, but it just happened to happen anyway!