Spike was in his kitchen, baking.
His kitchen. Twilight lived in Canterlot now so Spike did too. But as they had grown older they no longer felt the need to live together. Spike didn’t even live in the castle anymore. He had gotten his own place in Canterlot, just his.
The front door opened with a creak that Spike mentally noted to get fixed. “Spike, I’m home!”
Well, just his plus one.
“I’m in the kitchen, babe,” he called back, setting his mixing bowl down and wiping his claws on a nearby towel, “How was the market?”
“Good,” His partner said as Spike followed his voice into the front room, “they were having half price sales on asparagus’ so I got a lot. We can salt ray them and have snacks for weeks.”
Spike held back a chuckle as he stepped into the front room. “You mean saute? Yeah, we can do…that…”
He trailed off as he rounded the corner and saw a light blue earth pony in his living room. The pony had his curly blue head stuck into a shopping bag and kept talking as he rooted around in them.
“And I found a little phoenix statue for just a couple of bits. It was really cute and I just couldn’t resist.” The Earth Pony turned around and placed a small wooden statue on the side table with a small flourish and a grin at Spike. “What do you think?”
Spike’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. “Thorax?”
The pony continued to stare, unconcerned, into Spike’s eyes. They were the same height. Spike had grown considerably over the years and was now the size of an average adult pony, (though he had never lost that ‘baby fat’), but his Special-Some-Changeling was a good head or two taller than that.
The blue pony seemed to realize that something was wrong by Spike’s expression and height ratio as his eyes flicked about in confusion until he finally looked down.
He gasped when he looked down at his blue body. Then with a flash of fire, the pony was gone and Thorax, all green and orange and antlery, was standing in his place.
Thorax grinned nervously and turned back to the grocery bags, his horns lighting up with magic and surrounding them all in his signature glow. “Anyway, let me go put all this away.”
“Why were you a pony?” Spike managed to ask as Thorax trotted past him.
“Uh, uh, practice, Spikey!” Thorax called over her shoulder, “You know, haven’t been transforming very often. Have to make sure I’m still in top shape.”
Spike chewed on his lip while he followed Thorax back into the kitchen. He wasn’t sure if he should push the issue. Or if there even was an issue to push. Thorax and him had been dating for over a year now, surely if something was bothering him he’d bring it up himself right?
“Don’t forget we have that dinner with Twilight in a few hours,” he said instead, entering the kitchen just in time to see the rest of the bags float into the pantry.
A blue-scaled claw extended from said pantry and gave Spike an okay sign. “Sounds good, I’ll be ready.”
Spike blinked in confusion, but with a head shake turned back to his baking. He did want to get this done so he’d have a gift for Twilight. But still, his thoughts drifted to Thorax and the strange way he was acting. “So, anything else happen today?” He called out while he continued to mix ingredients.
“Uh, not really!” Thorax’s voice came back, barely heard over the rustling of grocery bags and the sorting of items. “I went to the park for a little bit. It was nice. Peaceful.”
Spike hummed in acknowledgment. Thorax wasn’t biting Spike’s conversation hooks but it also wasn’t like he was sulking or avoiding Spike.
The dragon pondered this conundrum while he baking, getting so lost in the task and his own thoughts that he didn’t notice Thorax sneaking up behind him until two blue-scaled arms draped around his shoulders and a head pressed against the side of his own.
“Dragon?” Spike couldn’t help but ask as Thorax laid their claws together, following Spike’s baking movements.
Thorax hummed noncommittally and shrugged, causing his scales to rub against Spike’s. “Yeah, I felt like being the same as my coltfriend. Dragons are nice and you’ve got so much dexterity with the claws.”
Spike snorted and turned his head to kiss Thorax’s face. “Even more than magic? I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s true! Magic can cause a big headache. You gotta think about every little action.” He squeezed Spike’s hands. “With claws you just do. It’s so natural.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it. But I’ll relent that I don’t think about using my hands.” He squeezed the blue claws back and peered curiously at them. “Hands are good for squeezing, at least. You made them pretty small.”
There was a flash of fire and now Spike was holding much larger bird claws and a beak was on his shoulder.
“There,” Thorax said, rubbing his head against Spike’s, “now I got big hand to squeeze yours. And I’m soft.”
A feather drifted in front of Spike’s face and he puffed a breath at it so it didn’t get into the batter. “Blue?”
Thorax sighed, the sound having just a bit of a shriller sound coming out of a beak. “Yeah, blue. It’s a nice color.”
Spike worried his lip for a moment before steeling himself and taking the plunge. “But you’re green. And Orange.”
Thorax was silent for a moment, but he didn’t pull away from holding Spike’s hands. Eventually, he answered in a very quiet voice. “I wasn’t always green. I was blue first.”
“Technically you were black first,” Spike corrected, even though it probably didn’t need correcting. A habit he had picked up from Twilight.
Thorax snorted, right in Spike’s ear though Spike didn’t mind that much. “Yeah and that sucked. A really bad time. But then I met a very special dragon and became blue.”
The fire flashed again and now there were shiny blue hooves on top of Spike’s claws.
“Remember?” Thorax said.
Spike grabbed the foreleg around his shoulder and slipped it onto the other so he could turn around.
He had not seen the Crystal Hoof form, as it originally was, in a long time. It was pretty much the same as he had remembered it, though Thorax had made it taller to better hug Spike with. But it still was skinny, with a nervous look and sparkling blue eyes that avoided contact.
“I do remember,” Spike said, voice barely above a whisper with how close their faces were, “but I also remember something even better happening and you became green. Green like a grassy field with an orange sunset over top.” He kissed the top of Thorax’s head. “I really like green, though I may be a bit biased.”
Thorax nodded, still avoiding eye contact. “I know. I like green too, obviously. But I also like blue.” His brow furrowed and he glanced up through his eyelashes. “Is… is that okay? To like blue even though, deep down, I’m green?”
Spike stared at him for a moment before cupping Thorax’s face in his claws and looking deep into his eyes. “Bro,” he said, as romantically as physically possible, “of course it is. You can like whatever you want. You can look however you want. Be blue sometimes, be green, hay go back to being black if you need to. I love you because you’re Thorax.”
Tears filled Thorax’s eyes and a shaky smile grew on his lips. “I love you too, Spike. So so much! I’m so glad I met you.”
Spike kissed his lips, lingering there for just a second before breaking away. “I’m glad I met you too. So, do you want to go to Twilight’s dinner like this?”
Thorax hesitated for a moment, eyebrows creasing as he thought deeply. Then he shook his head and in a final flash of fire the tall, antlery changeling prince was back. A dorky grin on his face as he nuzzled Spike’s muzzle. “Nope, I think I’m feeling pretty green right now.” He stroked Spike’s spins with a fond smile. “It’s a really really good color.”
Spike peered up at the hoof, smirking. “Yeah, I gotta say I’m biased. But purple is also pretty great.”
Thorax gave a mock gasp. “It’s not even half as good as orange!”
Spike laughed and withdrew from his partner to finish up his baking. “Unfortunately, I think you’ll be outnumbered in that opinion if we ask Twilight.”
Thorax levitated the mixing spoon and flicked a bit of batter at Spike. “No fair! You can’t use your sibling to gang up on me.”
The conversation continued into other topics. Into other laughter and other tears. Just like it always would.
THE END
Author's Note
What do you guys think this conversation is a metaphor for?
