And You Said Yes

by Vivid Syntax

Rating: teen
Tags: Other, Romance, Sex, Profanity, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Death, Sad
Length: 22034

While preparing for a sad celebration, Fashion Plate and Rivet reminisce about a lifetime of happiness.

While preparing for a sad celebration, Fashion Plate and Rivet reminisce about a lifetime of happiness.

Winner of the 2022 M/M Shipping Contest!

Best read online for proper formatting.

Cover art by Bright Sight. Thanks to Bright Sight and Rillegas08 for pre-reading.

Published 2022-12-05 17:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2022-12-09 18:55:23 UTC

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"I feel like a princess!" Fashion Plate rode high on the cart alongside the self-dubbed Red Blanket of Mystery. He felt the wind on his teeth and in his thin, silvery mane as he caught his breath. "Mind the wheels, love. Looks like a gopher hole ahead, and I would hate to jostle whatever little secret you’ve got under here."

"Sparkles," Rivet grunted with a smirk. He looked over his shoulder without breaking his stride, like the cart weighed nothing at all. His dull orange coat sagged on his slightly-shrinking muscles, but only just, and his stubbled face wore the exhausted smile of a pony used to physical labor. "I worked construction for forty-three years. I can manage a hole."

"And how!" Fashion Plate leaned out of the cart and slapped his husband’s flank.

Rivet straightened up and blushed. "Heh. Still got it."

They crested a grassy hill. Rivet pulled the cart under the shade of a large oak tree and quickly unhitched himself. He offered Fashion Plate a hoof. "Careful, hon. The grass is slippery. Must have rained this morning."

"Thanks, Papa Bear." Fashion Plate took Rivet's hoof. He shivered with a pleased squeak as his big, strong, rugged stallion lifted him from the cart and set him at the top of the hill.

Fashion Plate stood tall on his bony, cerulean legs and breathed in the scenery. The view was every bit as serene as he remembered. The foothills to the east and west towered above their little overlook, and in the valley below, a small herd of deer grazed on the sweet summer bushes near the stream. The oak tree next to him sang a mild song of rustling white noise, and the air felt clean in his lungs. Maybe it wasn't quite the mountains, but it was enough. "Perfection," he whispered.

"Want the tripod?" Rivet asked, already unpacking it from the cart.

"No, I want this one to be nourishingly natural." A golden light enveloped his horn, and a bulky camera floated from the bag in the cart to his face. It trembled slightly in the air, but Fashion Plate exhaled three times and snapped a picture just as the camera steadied.

Chk-bvvd. The machine spat out a picture, and Fashion Plate grabbed it with a free hoof.

He snuggled in as Rivet put a hoof around him. Sweat prickled the orange earth pony’s skin as he caught his breath. "It'll be–" His voice cracked, but he recovered. "Gonna be a great one, I bet."

"Better than great!” Fashion Plate lowered his tinted, white-framed glasses and gave Rivet a sidelong glance. “I aim for perfection! I put everything I am into all of my photos, love. That’s what makes them feel so alive.”

Rivet squeezed his husband and reflexively kissed him on the ear.

Fashion Plate shuddered with delight and nuzzled him back. “But there's a reason landscapes are just a hobby. They’re just not as interesting as photos of living, breathing ponies. Speaking of which: selfie!" Fashion Plate spun the camera around, and both of them turned their heads, smiling as wide and bright as their dentures would allow.

Chk-bvvd.

Rivet grabbed this one and shook it gently. He blew on it with a breath that always reminded Fashion Plate of fresh banana bread.

Fashion Plate kissed his cheek. "You know that doesn’t help."

"It's good luck." Rivet fanned himself with the photo. "Like in Las Pegasus. Ya' know, get a pretty mare to blow on the dice?"

Fashion Plate scrunched his face and smiled. "Well now you're just fishing for compliments.” He poked his husband in the chest. “...you clever, handsome, burly devil, you."

Rivet grinned. "Got any more?"

"We'll see how that picture comes out. You'll have absolute Tartarus to pay if you warp it. Lemme get my readers." Fashion Plate reached for the tiny saddle bag at his side, but he flinched as his neck twinged.

"I got it, hon." Rivet dug out a pair of white-framed glasses with feathery silver filigree and dozens of gemstones. He set them on his mate's face, and as ostentatious as they were, they only magnified his beauty. "Gorgeous."

"I know." He flashed a smile as he magically floated the other glasses into his bag. "It's how I keep you from looking at Davenport whenever we visit. Now, let's see that picture!" He leaned in and squinted at the photograph, which was just finishing development. "Oh, my sweet meathead," he sighed. "You look wonderful."

Rivet looked at it, too. The two of them stood cheek to cheek with the background wonderfully framed. "Yeah." Rivet felt a heavy weight settle on his chest. He mumbled, "Wanna… use this one?"

"Mmmm… I think we can do better. There’s a certain kind of smile I’d love to see again.”

Rivet cocked his head to the side. “Oh? Which one?”

“Can’t you guess? It was back in Ponyville.”

=============

Rarity had invited me to her spring show at Carousel Boutique. She still hosts those, that absolute queen! No idea how she finds the time, but she’s always said it’s important to highlight the little ponies out there who are still aiming to make it big. Wise words! A young stallion named Pistachio absolutely dazzled my eyes out with his debut. I was practically on top of the world thinking about how much fashion there was to discover in the hidden nooks and crannies of Equestria.

We broke for lunch about half an hour late – high society ponies never do anything early – and I just had to take a prance around Ponyville to get the energy out. I bounced! I swam through the air! I practically floated like a character in a foal's books who smells a delicious pie down the block. So much opportunity! So many rugged, unique ideas to explore!

I hadn't even made it a block when I bumped into a wooden saw horse painted orange and white. Somepony had plopped it down right in the middle of the street, and I nearly lost my glasses tripping over it. A new building was going up, but honestly, who could say what it was in that state.

Laundromat expansion for the spa. Three days after the groundbreaking.

How in Equestria do you remember that?

It was an important day.

Aw…

Well, with my attention finally brought back to the street in front of me, of course I had to take it all in. It smelled like wood and steel, mixed with the flowery bouquets from a few stalls down. Manehattan never smelled that fresh. Especially not during construction, which was all the time. I was struck by it! Ponyville had taken such an inconvenience and made it pleasant for the senses! How marvelous!

It was a tad ruined by the sirens that blared every time somepony so much as thought about moving a box, though.

It's loud so nopony wanders into the site.

Well, it didn't work on me. I was too distracted by the sights.

That's why we have the saw horses, too.

…Touché.

But if nothing else, it was an experience! And I had to capture it. My camera was at the ready, but I fumbled a bit. When you're used to a hyper-curated runway session, it's hard to gather oneself in such a chaotic scene. It took me eons to get the focus right, and when I did…

My lens had found the most handsome stallion I'd ever laid eyes on. His legs looked like they were made of steel, his face struck me with his rugged charm, and his barrel had that little paunch that makes the stallions go uhnf!

You were there, too, if I recall.

Hey!

Kidding!

It was you, Rivet. You'd skipped shaving that morning. Your dusty vest fit you too tight, so you had it open at the chest. The bright orange should have clashed with your coat, but instead it gave me this sense of energy, of life, of focus. You were guiding a beam for the crane operator, letting fly a few colorful pieces of advice. Even as rough and tumble as you were, your voice made my spine tingle from tail to head.

And… I was attracted to you. You were very, very attractive. I just wanted to be near you, and I wasn't even having lewd thoughts! I had plenty of them later, obviously, but in that moment? You were just… there. You had a steady confidence about yourself, and even in that chaotic mess of a work site, your eyes never left your work. Things moved smoothly near you. It didn't matter that you weren't the foreman. Everypony knew that you were the expert, and they gave you deference. And when you turned toward me, I felt that focus wash over me. I felt seen, so rare for a pony behind the camera. But you were paying attention, and your solid stance, your gentle but firm expression, the stubble of somepony that cares more about doing a good job than how he looks… you were perfect.

So what else could I do? By reflex, I steadied my camera and snapped a picture.

You reeled at the flash like a colt on school picture day. You shook your mane out, rubbed your eyes, and every direction you moved showed me another angle of your scandalously seductive body.

And I kept flashing. "Ah! Love it! Splendid! Yes! Oh! My Cosmare models wish they looked as natural as you!"

You finally composed yourself, rolled back your shoulders, and marched at me with earth-shaking stomps and a look that could turn a draconequus to stone.

And oh, you looked so good doing it that I couldn’t possibly stop! "Yes! Authority! Focus! You have no time for this! Punish me, foreman!" I admit, a few of the pictures were less than stellar, because I was distracted by that gorgeous, dirt-caked chest.

You stood just on the opposite side of the barrier, and with three quick motions that I'm still kicking myself for not capturing, you grabbed your hard hat, took it off, and smothered my camera. "Okay, Sparkles, that's enough flashing me and my friends here."

"Tragedy! We were just getting started!" I tried to reclaim my camera, but you kept a hoof on your helmet. You held it in place as I struggled and grunted and tried to free it with my magic. "Nyeh! NYEH!"

You sighed and looked me right in the eyes. "Friend, not sure how they do things where you're from, but 'round here, we ask before taking pictures."

I gasped. "How ghastly! My apologies. I’ve made a terrible faux pas!"

You raised an eyebrow. "A what?"

I put a hoof to your chest and threw my head back. "Stop! I simply cannot handle your smoldering, salt of the earth charms."

"Not sure I follow," you said with a shake of your head.

The confluence of what happened next still rattles me. For just a moment, there were no beeps, no alarms, no jackhammer. It went quiet, right as I practically shouted, "I'm saying you're hot, hot, HOT!!!'"

And every single construction pony slowly turned to face me, mouths agape.

The silence was deafening. My ears slapped against the sides of my head, and my glasses slid down my nose. My hoof fell from your chest, but then it just hung in the air like a drying fish. Attention always feels different when it's sudden and unexpected.

You casually picked up your hard hat, and my thoughts raced. I saw images of you giving me the cold shoulder and leaving me to beat myself up for being an impetuous colt.

But you were a gentlestallion. You placed the hat back on your head, looked me in the eye, and gave me a soft nod. "Thank you. That feels nice to hear." Your head cocked to the side like a bluebird lost in thought. "I appreciate a stallion that can get to the point." You reached for my hoof, brought it to your lips, and kissed it. "And you're pretty 'hot, hot, hot' yourself."

A pink mare cheered from across the site, "Yeah, Rivet! Get it!"

Trellis has never been subtle.

You rolled your eyes, then looked back at me. "You doing anything 'round six?"

Rarity was throwing a banquet that night for all the fashion show participants. It was the sort of event that could lead to my next big scoop and really jumpstart my new projects. Only the most lovestruck, unhinged ponies would skip such a momentous occasion, so of course I replied, "Can't think of a thing!"

Your eyes went wide, and you smiled. Oh, how you smiled. You couldn’t believe what was happening any more than I could. You tried to keep still and play it cool, but I saw the twitch of your back and the puppylike flick of your tail. It’s how I knew you really cared. "Good. We'll grab dinner at that cafe over there." You pointed to a quaint little bistro. "Don't keep me waiting."

My eyebrows raised. "So not fashionably late, then?"

"Nah. I'd hate to miss a moment." You turned and said, "See you then. Oh. Name's Rivet."

"An absolute pleasure! I'm–"

"Sparkles."

The hungry grin and tantalizing glimmer in your eye made my legs weak. I pulled back, blinked, and shook my head. "Oh, you whimsical sprite! It's actually–"

"Sparkles. I know." You winked and walked back into the noise.

I felt like my smile would break my face.

I cantered back to Carousel Boutique, and I didn't even care that I'd missed lunch. Whenever I got hungry, it reminded me I was going to have dinner with a fiendishly warm and inviting and sexy beast. I thought about it all day, and frankly, I had to talk myself into not making an entrance out of being late.

Because for you, just this once, I could be early.

===========

Learn

A pair of dragonflies landed on a tall blade of grass nearby. Rivet set the brake on the cart and fiddled with a wheel that was just a hair out of alignment while Fashion Plate set up his tripod. He sighed dreamily. “I’d say the first date went swimmingly, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Wouldn’t change a thing.” Rivet lightly stomped on a patch of grass to flatten it down, then looked back up and the tripod. “I thought you wanted it to be natural.”

“Just making use of my tools, love. Besides, I have to figure out some way to entertain myself while you’re setting up whatever it is you’re planning.”

Rivet shrugged. “Eh, no use in drawing out the suspense, I suppose.”

Fashion Plate slapped a hoof to his face. “No, no, no! Gah! This is why I could never get you on the red carpet.” He stomped up to Rivet, favoring his left hind leg. “Suspense! Desire! These are the tools of an artist!”

Rivet stepped behind the cart. He sat a hoof on the blanket covering the supplies. “But that just cuts into our time enjoying it.”

“My dear, sweet, hunky slab of a stallion,” Fashion Plate groaned. “Have I taught you nothing?”

Rivet nodded solemnly. “You’re right, Sparkles.” He took a step back and sat down. “How about you show me how it’s done, one more time. I’m a slow learner.”

Fashion Plate shook his head in mock disapproval. “You’ll get it one of these days, love. Just try to figure it out before the eulogy.”

Rivet swallowed. “I promise I will,” he mumbled. After a pause that felt a fraction of a moment too long, he nodded back at the cart. “So. Show me.”

“With pleasure!” Fashion Plate walked a brief circle around the cart. “The key is to divide their attention.” He paused with his butt towards Rivet and looked over his shoulder. A wicked, submissive look flashed across his face. “Show them something they want, something you know they would pounce on if given the chance.” He flicked his tail at the cart. “But then tempt them with something else.”

Rivet let a sensual smile creep across his face. “Oh, I’m plenty tempted already.”

“But you must keep the show going!” He slowly wheeled around to the opposite side of the cart, then spread his forelegs wide on the heavy blanket. He locked onto Rivet’s eyes with a smoldering gaze. “Tantalize them. Make them quiver.”

Rivet’s hoof twitched erratically. “I’m quivering, Sparkles. I’m quivering!”

“And only when they feel they’re about to burst….” He slowly moved a hoof to the corner of the heavy blanket. “...do you reveal…” He yanked it off. “The prize! …What?”

Beneath the red blanket was an orange one, and pinned to it was a piece of paper that read, “I know you like surprises….”

Fashion Plate stared at the paper, and Rivet stood and sauntered up next to him. “Hm,” he grunted, smugness oozing off his coat. “Wonder what that means.”

Fashion Plate lifted the blanket, and beneath it was a yellow one with another note. On it was written in fancy hoofwriting, “But you’ve always been the creative one…”

Rivet stood next to his husband and wrapped a foreleg around his shoulder. He kissed the side of Fashion Plate’s face. “I wonder how many layers there are.”

Fashion Plate wrinkled his nose at Rivet. He tried and failed to look angry. “Okay, you got me.”

Rivet just nodded. “Good, because I wasn’t going to let you keep going until you admitted it.”

Fashion Plate nuzzled Rivet under his chin. “Making a fool out of an old pony? You monster!”

Rivet nibbled Fashion Plate’s ear. “You like when I’m a monster.”

Fashion Plate shivered, but he turned his attention to the cart. He peeled back another layer to find a soft, green, fleece blanket. On this one sat another note with yet fancier hoofwriting. “And what’s that you’re always saying about creativity?”

With a glint in his eye, Fashion Plate said, “What indeed?” He turned and flashed a venomous grin. “You’re nervous you got it wrong.”

Rivet’s eyes flicked away. “Maybe.”

Fashion Plate straightened up and lectured, “Creativity is merely the art of finding new uses for old ideas.”

Rivet let out a held breath. “Uh-oh.”

“What!?” Fashion Plate ripped away the blanket and found a blue one underneath. This one’s note read, in the loopiest, most preposterous hoofwriting Fashion Plate had ever seen, “It’s just taking the old and making it new again in an exciting way.” Beneath that blanket was one more, purple this time. The note read, in a tiny parenthetical: “Really hope I got that right!”

Fashion Plate pulled back this final blanket and gasped. “It looks just like new!” Folded up perfectly was a massive quilt with patches arranged in diagonal rainbows. Many of the squares showed the fading of decades, but every little tear had been carefully hoof-stitched, strengthening the heavy covering to what it once was. “Is this the one from your grandmother? From after you came out?”

Rivet nodded. “Mm-hm. Had to replace a couple patches, but most of it is original.” He stopped Fashion Plate before he could pick it up. “Careful. There’s more.”

“I didn’t even know we still had this.” Fashion Plate squealed, “Ah! It’s like Hearth's Warming!" Gently, he picked up the ancient quilt and peeked beneath, where he saw…. “That’s the same pillow from our first apartment! And a bottle of sauvignon blanc!?”

“Look at the label.”

Fashion Plate picked up the bottle, and his jaw nearly hit the dirt. “Gilded Bluff Vineyards Fifty-One! You wicked colt, letting me drink at my age. Where did you even find this? And who fixed the quilt?”

Rivet kissed him again. “I did.”

Fashion Plate threw his forelegs around his husband as quickly as his body would allow. “You’re magic. That’s the only explanation.”

“Or I finally put my insomnia to good use.” He tugged at the dark circle under one of his eyes.

Fashion Plate pulled back and kissed the end of Rivet’s nose. “This all rings very familiar, you know.”

Rivet bowed his head so that his mane could brush against his husband’s face. “I wanted–” He cleared his throat and blinked away a tear. He took a breath. “I wanted you to know how much I’ve learned from you, even from those early years, and how much I still treasure it.”

+++++++++++++++

Mom thought I was crazy, moving in with you after just four dates. Dad figured it was like roommates, and he’d stayed with folks a whole lot sketchier than you.

Was that his idea of a compliment?

Just a matter of fact. I wish I could say that I was sad to leave Ponyville. Honestly, I’d been meaning to move someplace with more consistent work. Just needed an excuse. And I finally found a great one.

I was an “excuse?”

Yeah. A great one.

You’re worse than your father.

Maybe, but then again, he only had to raise one kid. I’d like to think I have a higher success rate.

Spotlight is remarkably polite. Wonder where in Tartarus she got that from.

You know, I listened to yourstory. Mostly.

Apologies. Continue!

Housing market the way it was, I have no idea how you found a place for us so quickly. I’d kept telling you I could sleep on your couch if your bed was too small. But you didn’t like that. You wanted us to be together every night, and if that meant packing up and moving all your fancy glass awards, it would be worth it. Or rather, you had enough friends and colleagues who could do it for you.

Networking!

I’ve moved probably a dozen times in my life, but that apartment on Fifth? Hoo, I’d never dreamed I’d be that high up. With the giant glass panes that let in the evening sun and the bright blue sky, I felt safe there, like I could escape the noise of the city and the job site every day if I needed to.

You’d already half-decorated the place by the time I arrived, too. Nothing too much, but enough to make it feel like ours. That abstract art square with our coat colors and cutie marks was my favorite, because… hm…

See, we would go through a lot of ponies in my line of work. They think it’s easy: just move stuff from one pile to another. But you had to be invested, and your attitude on day one pretty much set you up for the rest of your time on the site, be it long or short. And seeing that you’d already gotten art of us, well, it told me you’d bought in.

The first time I walked in with just two bags and some rolling luggage, the hardwood creaked under me, and I wondered if it was built to support a lug like myself. Of course, the rose petals you’d spread on the floor were quite the touch.

You were so coy. “Huh, must be a gift from the landlords.” You looked all around and tapped your chin. “How odd that it seems to make a trail to the bedroom.”

Back then, I didn’t know much about patience, so I scooped you up and rushed straight there. You had some big speech about how important it was to break in the new place properly, but you only got about a sentence in before I had you on your back with my tongue halfway down your throat. We had our fun, ate a cold dinner in bed, and decided that unpacking could wait.

Course, the world doesn’t stop for love. We both had work the next morning. You had to run through plans for the autumn holiday preview, and I had to report to a dig site for an excavation project before dawn. Tearing myself away from you felt like pulling velcro, and it seemed criminal to shower away that breezy, sweaty smell of yours, but we did what we had to.

Too bad my new boss was such an asshole. Steel Beam had been a foreman for about eight years at that point, and he went on and on and on about how this team wasn’t near as fast or accurate as his last one. Celestia-damn, I couldn’t tell if his voice was hoarse from twenty years of smoking or twenty years of yelling. Maybe both.

He tore into me at sunrise, two hours into the job, while I inspected one of the diggers. “Newbie, why ain’t that bucket in the ground yet?”

I took a breath and stood tall. And I reminded myself: day one attitude. “Sorry, sir. This is a much different model than I’m used to, and I want to run it through its paces to ensure–”

“I asked for an expert, not a frickin’ playground colt!”

He honestly said “frickin’?”

I’m sparing you the more colorful language.

Even though I wasn’t used to such rough treatment, I was ready for it. I stood my ground. “Sir, I was head of safety back in Ponyville, and we need to–”

“I don’t give a darn about some podunk nowhere town, scrub! Get movin’ dirt or get movin’ butt back to the rock you came from.”

I started up the machine, and fortunately, I could run through the rest of my inspection while getting at the topsoil. I hated it. We had a saying back in Ponyville: multitasking on the job, get ready for your head to throb. But I grit my teeth, and I did what I could. I wasn’t going to let him get to me.

We finished the day ahead of schedule, but we still got an earful from Steel. Something about how quotas and schedules are the bare minimum, and he could tell we were slacking, and he saw us taking an extra piss break. All sorts of nonsense.

What kept me going was thinking about seeing you again. I wanted to walk in, flop on top of you, and not get up until our stomachs grumbled.

But that wasn’t meant to be. I got home near sundown, and I knew even before I walked in that the apartment was empty. You’d thought ahead, though, like you always do, and you’d left a note. “Sorry, love! It’s going to be a late night. I grabbed a Cobb salad and a side of fortified oats for you, and there’s some ice cream in the freezer. I figured you could use a recharge on your protein~. Not fancy, but I want our first big meal here to be together! We’ll try again tomorrow.” You drew a little picture of yourself in the corner blowing a kiss, and even though my whole body felt like a sponge that was saturated with disappointment, it helped.

I tried real, real hard to stay up to say hi to you, but I hadn’t realized that the holiday preview would take you so late into night, and I passed out on the couch at around ten. When I woke up, you’d put a blanket on me and left me another note. “Go get ‘em, you beast! Just save some for me. I’ll need some attention later~”

I peeked into our bedroom, but you were out cold, and I wanted you to get your rest. I wrote you a note back that I left on the counter. “Just try and stop me, Sparkles.”

And that’s how the week went. I got up early, dashed to work, drove myself to exhaustion, and came back to the apartment to find another note and a few words to keep me riled up. Then I’d reply, crawl into bed, and sleep like the–… like a rock until my alarm went off. I’d get a groggy kiss here or there, but the whole week, I felt like a starving colt looking into the window of a candy store.

Friday was the worst. There was this younger stallion, Rebar, who tried to operate the smaller crane on his own. He was just certified the week prior, and he was supposed to still be accompanied, but Steel Beam pulled his partner away for jackhammer duty. It was already six at night, and the sun was going down, and we were all exhausted. Something was bound to happen.

Thankfully nopony was hurt when one of the cement loads clipped a steel cable, but seeing that beam falling towards me, my life flashed before my eyes.

The whole incident set us back nearly a day, plus the hours of screaming from Steel Beam. Poor Rebar was in tears by the end of it, and a whole lot of us stayed back to comfort him.

Steel Beam wouldn’t have any of that. “Kid doesn't know how to swing a bag around! I should rip his damn certificate up myself!”

Rebar trembled. “No! Please!”

I’d had enough. “Beam, lay the fuck off!”

Not sparing my ears?

I’m mad just thinking about it.

I got up in his face. “We’re ahead of schedule, staying late for no reason, and you’re still cutting corners! This wouldn’t have happened if you’d just followed protocol!”

Steel Beam didn’t like that. “You and that little tyke can kiss my ass, newbie! You have no idea what kinda bull I have to deal with while all y’all play in the sand and wreck my rocks!” He pressed his head against mine.

I gritted my teeth and stomped the earth. “I’ll wreck more than your rocks if you can’t get your head out your ass and stop endangering a kid who’s still learning!”

We pressed our foreheads against each other, ready to bite each other’s heads off, until Quartz and two of her friends finally pulled us apart. I’d nearly hit him, but thankfully they stepped in and I didn’t lose my job. Of course, the whole group of us helped Rebar fill out the incident report and wrote up testimonials about how it wasn’t his fault, and I stayed extra late to write up a Pony Resources complaint, but that just meant more hours at the site.

Rebar gave me a giant hug after it was done. He’d calmed down, which got my head back on straight, too. The guys wanted to buy me a beer, but by then it was almost nine, and I told them I just wanted to go hug my stallion. They all understood and promised to get me under the table sometime.

And… oof. I’m real sorry about that night.

You have nothing to apologize for.

But I do.

I dragged myself down the hallway, thumped my head against the door, and thought about just collapsing on the kitchen floor for the night. But when I opened the door, you were all ready to go. Despite how late I was, you perked right up as soon as I walked in. “Splendid! The hero of Equestria arrives to save his lonely stallion!”

I felt like I would fall over. “Hey, Sparkles. Hoo, I need to rest.”

“Nonsense!” You trotted up to me and gave me a giant kiss. “I had hoped to make the evening fountain show, but it runs weekly anyway. But that’s alright! There’s still plenty to do.”

My head shook on its own, like I was swatting invisible flies with my face. “Not tonight, honey.”

You nodded back at me. “Trust me, love. This will cheer you right up. And don’t worry! I bumped our reservation at Regalia – it’s this little tapas place, but you’ll love it, it’s actually quite filling – and there’s a skylight show by one of the Wonderbolt squadrons in the park tonight for the Autumn leaf-turning festival! If we rush, we can–”

I snorted. “Sparkles, please!”

You collapsed faster than that guide beam had, and my heart sank with it.

I felt my lip tremble. “Sparkles, sorry, I didn’t mean–”

You paused, like a pony dipping his hoof in a whole pool full of anger before leaping in. “Didn’t mean what?” you snapped. “Didn’t mean to yell at me as soon as you got in the door? Didn’t mean to shoot down all my plans to let us spend one night together this week?” Tears welled up in your eyes, and the facade of cheerfulness that you’d been working so hard to maintain finally broke. You kept grabbing the side of your head and touching your chest like you had a terrible pain. “Look, I’m sorry, Rivet, but I have a career, too, and this is just how it has to be! I have to work late sometimes! Do you think I’m happy with how early you have to get up, so that I can’t even kiss you goodbye?” You stood ramrod stiff and gritted your teeth at me. Through the sobs, you yelled, “I was trying to give us just one night, just one night to spend time together!”

My ears were so flat on my head that I thought they’d fused. “Sweetie, I’m sorry. It was a rough day, but you didn’t deserve that.”

Your eyes watered, which broke my heart in half again, and you threw your head back. “Ah!” You slammed a hoof to your head. “Where in Tartarus do I get off? Bad pony! Bad!” You smacked your forehead. “You work a physical job! What’s wrong with me? Of course you’re tired. I just… gah!”

I took a deep breath and took half a step forward. “You just what?” I said, gently as I could.

You threw yourself at me and held me tight, and feeling your chest against mine, I finally started to unwind. “I had all these plans, and…” You groaned and said, “It’s your first weekend in Manehattan. I just wanted to show you around and make you feel at home.”

I hugged you back. “I want to feel at home, too, but… Hoo, I don’t have the energy you do. I just want to spend time with you. And…” I dug down deep. Sure, I was exhausted, but it wrecked me seeing you so heartbroken. You were worth more than all the sleep I could want. “You unwind by going into the city, right? Maybe…”

You pulled back and looked me square in the eye. “No. You are not pulling a self-sacrifice thing right now, no matter how much you think I need it.”

I frowned. “You had a rough week, too?”

Your ears folded down, and you mumbled, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

I nuzzled your face. “Sparkles, we’ve done nothing but ‘not talk’ all week. I want to be with you.” I jerked my head back towards the door. “Not out there. Just with you. You’re the reason I’m here.”

You sighed and looked up at me with bright, shining eyes, and we rested against each other’s heads. “And I want to show how wonderful this place can be.”

We paused. It felt like we were so far away, like I was still stuck in Ponyville and missing you every night. We’d made a big move, but we still felt so separate.

I couldn’t stand that. So, I moved my hoof to touch yours. “Sorry I can’t take it all in at once.”

We paused again.

I shrugged. “Maybe I need just a little bit at a time, not all at once.”

You chuckled bitterly. “Fashion Plate? Overdoing it from the get-go? Shocking!”

With a kiss on your forehead, I said, “Just… what’s your favorite place around here? Know anything quick, within a block or so?”

“Rice Noodle’s Dumpling Palace.” You finally looked at me again. “It’s authentic. Just like Shangneigh, but it is not fancy.”

“I don’t need fancy,” I sighed. “I just need you.”

You closed your eyes and relaxed, and seeing you unwind worked magic on me, too.

I kissed you again, because I can never, ever stop. “How about we get some of those dumplings, cuddle up on the couch, and bitch about work?”

You smiled. “I knew I’d married a genius.”

I cocked an eye. “We’re not married yet, Sparkles.”

“Eh, I give it a year until you decide you can’t live without me.”

I pulled you in for a hug. “I’m guessing eight months.”

“Let's call it ten.” You kissed my nose. “I’ll get the food. Not to make your life harder, but this whole apartment is missing your masculine aesthetic touch.”

“Did you forget I like to crochet?”

“Crochet can be masculine!” you whined. “How about unpacking something you love? Then just get comfy and rest, and I’ll be back to stuff your mouth with some soft, salty balls.”

And we did just that. I unpacked this quilt, which still smells like my grandma’s perfume, and fought to stay awake beneath it. You were back in fifteen minutes with dumplings and sides, and you pulled a bottle of wine off your wine rack.

The Gilded Bluff New Batch. Same year as this bottle.

As tired as we were, we stayed up until three or so, feeding each other, catching up… And for the first time that week, I felt like our relationship could really work.

Because Celestia be damned, we were going to make it work!

Heh heh. Yeah. So, cheers to us. Lemme pour you a glass.

Certainly! But…

Yeah?

Didn’t we decide that this wine tasted terrible?

Well, maybe our taste buds have changed in fifty-one years.

Worth a shot. To your health!

And to love beyond this lifetime. Cheers!

…

…

…

Nope! Still atrocious!

Ah, well. Maybe in another half-century.

+++++++++++++++

Dance

Fashion Plate smacked his lips and scraped his tongue on his teeth. “I’m tempted to dump it out, but I worry what it might do to the local wildlife.”

“It’s just grape juice when you get down to it.” Rivet downed his glass, then nodded at his husband. “I’ll finish it off for you.”

Fashion Plate shook his head and smiled. “You fucking lush. I appreciate the conservation effort, but why waste your time drinking subpar wine?”

“Because it reminds me of you,” Rivet mumbled without looking back at Fashion Plate. He recorked the bottle and stuck it back into the picnic basket. “And I don’t…” His head hung low.

Fashion Plate relaxed at the shoulders. “You don’t want to let go, sweetie. I get it.” He dumped his wine glass into the grass. “But don’t hold on so tight that you hurt yourself.”

Rivet’s throat tightened and relaxed. It did it again. He blinked four times in quick succession.

Fashion Plate reached a hoof and touched his husband’s. “You have plenty of good to hang onto.” He looked out at the valley below. The deer had moved on, but a pair of ducks sat on the glassy surface of a small pool of water. “The kids will make time for you, and you can visit me as much as you need. I’ll always be here.”

“It’ll be different,” Rivet whimpered, looking at the ducks. “I want it to be the same.”

“Things change, love. That’s what we signed up for.” He giggled. “Tartarus, if we always stuck to our plans, we would have done that cliché honeymoon in Neighagra Falls instead, and we never would have found this place.” He scooted closer. “We found it because we wanted to explore together.”

“Together,” Rivet repeated.

“Oh, don’t start,” Fashion Plate gently scolded. He kissed away a tear. “We’re together now, aren’t we?”

“Sorry.” Rivet sniffed. “I shouldn’t be like this. I wanted to come here to remind you of the happy times.”

Fashion Plate smiled. “Oh, you adorable, dramatic puppy!” He moved even closer, their sides pressed together, and he gave Rivet a peck on the cheek. “These are the happy times. I get to spend it with you, sweetie. You’re doing everything right, and this is exactly what I wanted.”

Rivet shook out his mane. He looked up and tried to force a smile, but it quickly collapsed. Everything felt tight, but he was afraid of what would happen if he let that tension go.

But he felt his body unwind after Fashion Plate’s hoof found his back, right between his shoulder blades, and he applied firm but gentle pressure. Rivet sighed. “Thanks, love.”

“Just returning the favor. Remember our wedding day?”

=========

It was the most beautiful day of our lives. Our friends and family were all gathering, the late summer flowers were in bloom, and the warm, muggy air at the Canterlot Gardens made everything smell like perfume. The good kind! Not the trashy, synthetic nonsense they hock at the malls these days. Everything was serene and picturesque.

And I was still panicking so hard that my mane nearly fell out.

That’d be a real shame.

A tragedy! I paid thirty bits and sat in a chair for two hours for my wedding mane style!

I was dashing around the reception hall. It was a grand ballroom with windows as tall as our house, and it overlooked a sea of greens and blues and yellows. Thousands of flowers, a testament to our blossoming love, grew around the reflecting pool where we would be married. Waitstaff were setting out the gold and sapphire chargers, but a few of them had scratched in shipping, and we were afraid of running short. The wedding cake was late, and the band’s violinist had gotten sick, and their replacement was dashing over from Ponyville, but they would only have fifteen minutes to spare, and that was if the train was on time.

My wedding party was doing their best to rein me in, but every time one of them tried to step in, I barked at them for not doing something exactly the way I wanted.

I rushed over to straighten out a charger. “No, no, no! Alternating colors on the family tables only! The others are blocked by table, and tables five and eight are the only ones with a mix!”

The venue’s wedding planner, Diamond Light, was an absolute saint for dealing with me. She happily walked up with her clipboard. Her smile was annoyingly unshakable. “We’ll fix it right away, Mr. Fashion Plate. But don’t worry: we’re just setting out everything to ensure we have the proper inventory. We’ll arrange everything according to your grid, just like you asked.”

I cursed myself for the last-minute touches of makeup I’d added that morning, because I could feel it streaking around my eyes. “Any word on the cake? Ugh!” I pranced in place. “If it’s not here by the time Rivet and I have our First Look pictures, then everypony will be able to tell I was distracted. Photo Finish is a master, but she’s not a miracle worker!”

A pink blur waved at me from the entrance. “Hey, Plate? Rivet needs you real quick.”

“Trellis!” I abandoned Diamond Light and dashed over to the doorway. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be getting Rivet ready! What does he need? Ugh, maybe I can send Hotshot over?” I shook my head out. “Does he need me specifically? He knows it’s bad luck to see or hear each other before the First Look. Is it–”

Trellis shoved her hoof in my mouth.

Like I said, not subtle.

I can see why you’re such good friends.

But she stared me down, and I remembered to breathe after a few seconds. She took a deep breath, smiled, took her hoof from my face, and then fished some notecards out of her pocket. “Rivet says to just trust him. Turn around and face the window.”

Every sinew in my body told me to run to the tables and get back to micromanaging, but I did what I was told. I could hardly see, because I was still so worried about the cake and the violinist.

Trellis shuffled through her cards behind me, then cleared her throat and spoke. “Okay, so I’ve got some messages here from Rivet. Here we go: Hey there, Sparkles. First off, I’m wearing a blindfold and ear plugs, because I know you care about tradition.”

My eyes opened wide, and I fought the urge to turn around.

“Second, I asked Trellis to bring me here, because I know that you’re worried about all the little details being just perfect.”

My hooves felt like they were made of lead. You had me pegged.

“Third, I know that no matter what, today is going to be perfect, even if some of the details aren’t exactly what we thought we wanted. It will be perfect, because we’re starting our lives together.” Trellis took a few steps back, and then I heard you: the unmistakable sound of those big, flat hooves on the carpeted floor. I could feel the air change, grow warmer, and even though I didn’t look back, I knew you were standing behind me on my left side. Trellis must have shoved you a bit, because you took a half-step closer.

And then you touched me. It took a little searching, but you found a spot on my back, right between my shoulder blades. You applied gentle, forceful pressure, like I was a cat afraid of the fireworks. All my worries were still there, needling me at the edge of my perception, but feeling you with me made them slowly melt away.

Trellis continued. “I want you to know it, too. Look outside. If there are ponies there, flip to– oh, crap! Sorry! Wasn’t supposed to read that.”

I snickered, and I felt you tense up the way you do whenever you stifle a laugh. To your credit, I didn’t hear your voice.

Trellis mumbled a few other apologies, but she quickly found the right card. “Look outside, Sparkles. What do you see?”

I did as I was instructed. The giant, glass windows overlooked a beautiful garden and set of water features. Outside, your parents were schmoozing with my cousin. They were smiling, and it looked like they were joking about how silly they felt in such fancy suits. My mother approached with her husband in tow, and she hugged both of your parents. She said something, and your father puffed up and wiped away a tear of pride.

It was a greeting. That’s all it was, and yet, it was a beautiful moment, glorious in its simplicity and honesty. And you knew it would be, because you always knew what mattered.

Even though Trellis was speaking, I could hear your voice in hers. “Everyone is here for us, Sparkles. They all see what we’ve known for so long now: we love each other, and we’re meant to be together. Times will be hard…” At that moment, you hugged my barrel. “But even if we’re separated, know that I’m here with you, right behind you, watching and cheering you on the whole way. And I always will be.”

My makeup had definitely streaked, because tears were rolling down my cheeks. “Dammit…” I wiped my face with a tissue from my pocket.

Trellis spoke softly. “Take all the time you need. Rivet said there’s no rush.”

I let you linger, hugged tightly around my barrel. I could feel the silk blindfold against my neck as you rested your head on my shoulder. Your warm face, your strong forelegs… I looked around at the reception hall. You were right: it was perfect, because this day was ours.

I reached back and, without looking, tapped the side of your face. I had to clear my throat, but I told Trellis, “Please tell him I love him more than anything. This was exactly what I needed. And… oh!” I blinked away a few more tears. “I’m going out to be with our family until it’s time for the photos.”

Trellis stepped up in front of me. “I think he’ll like that. C’mon, big guy.”

Slowly, she guided you away, and you let go. You didn’t need to linger, because you knew I would be okay, and you were right.

I left Diamond Light to finish the setup and spent time with the wedding party and all our friends. I greeted them and was finally a decent host. And I laughed, Rivet. I laughed and smiled so much, because you’d pulled me out of such a dark place. And when Photo Finish corralled me to the Perennial Garden, I was ready.

You looked just as stunning as the day we met. That clean, black suit fit you perfectly, and the subtle square pattern of the fabric wove together like bricks on the sturdiest building in the city. And you still had your stubble. You insisted on keeping it, just so you could feel a little more like yourself.

You smiled at me, Rivet, and even then, before our vows, I knew I’d never have to worry about being alone again.

=======

Fashion Plate and Rivet leaned on each other, looking over the bright valley. They breathed perfectly in time with one another.

Rivet wrapped a foreleg around Fashion Plate and squeezed. “It was a beautiful ceremony.”

Fashion Plate grinned wide. “Expertly executed! Down to the finest detail!”

Rivet cocked an eye at his husband. “Except the napkins that were the wrong color.”

“A joyous surprise!” Fashion Plate responded, throwing a hoof into the air. “The silver complimented the palette, anyway.”

“Ha! One surprise of many. Were they all joyous?”

“Every single one!”

“Even when my cousin bit yours during the bouquet toss?”

“Day one attitude, love.” He tapped Rivet on the nose. “I shouldn’t have to remind you.”

Rivet sighed lovingly. “Yeah. A great day, and a great reminder. The whole thing was special.”

Fashion Plate laughed. “Especially our first dance. Your aunt was absolutely scandalized to see two stallions dancing so closely together.” He rocked his head to the side. “Think you still remember the steps?”

Rivet frowned slightly. “I do, but…” He shook his head and smiled. “Heh. I was going to ask if you were up for it, but I know better by now.”

“Good husband,” Fashion Plate said, scratching Rivet’s chin. “Because I feel a burst of energy coming on. I don’t know how many I have left, and I really, really want to spend this one dancing with you.”

Rivet stood up slowly, first with his hind legs, then his fore, and he helped his husband onto his own. “Then may I have this dance?”

“You can have them all.”

They embraced and took their positions, each with their right hoof on their partner’s shoulder and with their foreheads pressed together.

Fashion Plate whispered, “One, two, three…”

And they danced. Rivet hummed the melody of their wedding song, Unbridled Harmony, while he led. Fashion Plate followed as Rivet stepped forward, to the right, back, left, and forward, turning just a few degrees each rotation. Fashion Plate softly hummed, “Bum-bah-dah, bum-bah-dah…” when their old bodies lost track of the beat, and each time they swayed, their partner was there to catch or guide them. Their steps were sometimes out of sync, or a short pain in the hip caused them to flinch, but they stayed together, and they twirled and twirled to their slow, lovely song.

Into the second verse, they finally pulled their heads back and stared, hypnotized, into each other’s eyes. They reflected each other in that moment, an infinite cycle of love flowing between them.

And Fashion Plate’s eyes went wide as he suddenly shouted, “Record scratch!”

A wry smile curled on Rivet’s face, and he responded in a big, bassy voice, “I like!”

“Big!”

“Plots and that is the truth!”

Rivet grabbed Fashion Plate’s hooves and spun him around, dipping him as the blue unicorn sang, “You other stallions find it uncouth!”

Fashion Plate quickly spun out of the dip and shoved his ass high in the air. Rivet took his hooves and made a voguing motion all around it. “But when a colt trots in with a grabbable waist and juicy plot in your face–”

He practically leapt onto Fashion Plate’s back and mock-mounted him with a single thrust as they both shouted, “You get hard!”

They spun, thrusted, and shook through their increasingly lewd routine. Rivet posed on his hind legs, one forehoof on his face and one on his hips, with his butt facing Fashion Plate. “Gotta get that plot, yo’!”

“And take a pho-to!” Fashion Plate snapped a picture of Rivet’s ridiculous pose with his camera.

They side-shuffled towards each other, their tails thrashing and their legs shaking to maximize the jiggle of their butts. Rivet shouted, “Shake it!”

“Shake it!”

“Shake it!”

“Shake it!”

“And act on those nasty thoughts! Stallion got plot!” He turned around and greedily rubbed Fashion Plate’s butt, showing it off like an infomercial. “Stallion!”

“Got!”

“Plot!” He reeled back with a hoof and made a show of slapping Fashion Plate’s butt, though he only touched it lightly as he made “Whoop-pish!” sound with his mouth.

Fashion Plate craned his neck back. “Oh, you can not finish with a weak little tap like that! Spank me like you mean it, hunk!”

Rivet’s eyes widened, but he still wore a wicked smile. “You sure? I don’t want to–”

“Harder, bitch!”

“WHOOP-PISH!” He smacked his husband’s ass hard enough to make the saggy skin jiggle.

“O-oh!” Fashion Plate gasped.

“Sorry! Sparkles, are you–”

He was interrupted by Fashion Plate pivoting around and grabbing him by both sides of his face. “Kiss me, you incredible beast!”

Rivet’s mind reeled in a way it hadn’t for years. He gave in to his instincts, which Fashion Plate was all too gleeful to stoke. And despite the creakiness of their bones and the limitations of their bodies, they bonded again, just like they had on their wedding night.

Create

They laid on their rainbow quilt, sweating, with Rivet spooning his husband. He idly nibbled on the back of Fashion Plate’s neck between his labored, panting breaths. The sun warmed their sides while the weak breeze soothed the pulsing of their foreheads.

Fashion Plate moaned as words rolled out of his mouth like marbles. “Gwuh… Who says earth ponies aren’t magic? I’m going to be sore for a month.”

Rivet grunted in satisfaction. He wiggled his hips up against Fashion Plate’s rump. In his ear, he said softly, “I’m holding you to that.”

Fashion Plate relaxed even further as the hot breath sent a tingle down his ear and across his skull. “Seriously, love, I didn’t even know you could do that anymore. Not to be morbid, but that would have been an absolutely legendary way to go out.”

Rivet chuckled. “Heck of a thing to explain to the police.”

“Oh, you’d be fine. And just think of the story! The other stallions at the bar would have nothing on you.”

“Heh heh. Honey, we just made love at our secret honeymoon spot half a century later. It’s a pretty damn good story on its own.”

“Just don’t spare the details when you tell it.” He turned his head to look back at Rivet. “And put Snowplow in his place while you’re at it. He’s always going on about how he and Sugar Swirl like to get sooooo crazy, but it just ends up being fuzzy hoofcuffs or some nonsense. And not to kinkshame, but please, walk the walk if you want to brag that much.”

Rivet shook his head and licked that back of Fashion Plate’s ear. “Seems a touch spiteful.”

“I think you mean simply genius.” Fashion Plate took two big breaths. “Goodness. What a dance.” He forced himself to breathe normally. “Oh, and the best part is that he won’t be able to talk back!”

Rivet squeezed him tight. “You got it, Sparkles. I’ll tell everypony you were a wild sex freak all the way to the end.”

“See if you can fit it on my tombstone.” He mimed a wide arc in front of him. “Put it beneath ‘cultural icon’ and ‘loving husband and father,’ but keep it above ‘celebrated philanthropist.’”

“Haha! Is that how your priorities shake out?”

“Presentation, darling!” He flashed a smile. “You want to sneak it in to catch the normies off guard.”

“You’re the expert,” Rivet said with a sigh. He took in the hot midsummer air and felt the sweat roll off his body, drop by drop. Thankfully, it still wasn’t too humid, but his mind drifted to whether he should chew on a few ice cubes to keep himself from developing heat stroke.

Fashion Plate shivered in his forelegs, and his teeth chattered. “Br… That breeze is frightfully cold.”

Rivet’s heart sank. There hadn’t been a breeze. He checked himself to ensure his voice sounded comforting and unbothered. “Want me to get another blanket, Sparkles?”

“Lovely! But, before we get settled, uh…” He shrunk.

Rivet lifted his head to look more directly at Fashion Plate. “Anything you want, hon.”

Fashion Plate shook his head. “It’s not really a want, it’s…” He put a hoof over his face. “Ugh, this is embarrassing.” He peeked out at Rivet. “Between all the water on the way up here, plus the wine and shaking everything up, I’m…”

Rivet nodded and kissed his cheek. “I don’t mind helping, honey. Wouldn’t want your coat to get messed up.”

Fashion Plate shook his head. “You’re a dream. Apologies that my body is an absolute nightmare.”

“It’s an absolute paradise.” Rivet ran a hoof down the length of his husband’s body and gave him another small slap on the flank. “I’m happy to do maintenance whenever you need. It’s worth it.”

Fashion Plate sighed in relief. “Thank you. Let’s get it over with. I, uh… might be walking a bit funny, so watch out.”

Rivet helped his husband onto his shaky legs, then guided him over to a nearby bush. Their business concluded, they walked slowly, step by tiny step, over to the oak tree overlooking the hill.

Rivet kept a hoof under Fashion Plate’s foreleg. “Can you stand long enough for me to grab a few blankets?”

Fashion Plate was still panting. “I think so. Just be quick.”

Rivet paused for a moment. He let Fashion Plate grab onto the tree, then slowly pulled away. He held his hoof there for a moment and eyed Fashion Plate up and down. “Stable?”

“Y-yes,” Fashion Plate mumbled. Pulling back a bit, he perked up and smiled a broad, goofy smile. “If anything, the fact that I’m standing means you should go harder next time!” His face looked strained, and his back legs twitched.

Rivet cast a glance over at the blankets. They were only a short distance away, but it felt like traversing a continent. He looked back to his husband. “Two seconds.” He dashed back, ignoring the soreness in his hips, and made it to the rainbow quilt with the picnic basket. He cursed under his breath that he had to move the basket and wine glasses off before he could grab the quilt, and he wondered if he should have just gone for the heavier blankets from earlier.

He snapped to attention when he heard Fashion Plate shout, “Help. Help!”

Rivet dashed back as Fashion Plate’s rump hit the ground. He wrapped his forelegs around Fashion Plate to keep him upright. “Sorry! Aw, shoot, I’m sorry Sparkles. Are you hurt?”

Fashion Plate shook his head and smiled broadly. “Not at all!” He felt his chest and panted. “But probably best if I lie down while you get everything ready, right love?”

“...Right.” Rivet could see the muscles in Fashion Plate’s forelegs quivering. He set him down.

With a little more time, Rivet grabbed the quilt, a second blanket, some water, the camera, and a few snacks. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fashion Plate puffing and shivering, and twice, he had to stop himself from running back sobbing.

But when he turned around fully, Fashion Plate was all smiles. “The grass is soft, love, but I think I want something softer.”

Rivet looked down at his paunch. “You calling me fat?”

“I’m saying you have a dad bod, and I want it next to me again.” He tried to hide another shiver.

Rivet quickly set up the blanket against the tree, then sat down and leaned back against it with the supplies in leg’s reach. He looked at Fashion Plate. “Can you scoot this way?”

“I can try!” Fashion Plate made a huge show of inching his way towards Rivet. “With speed like this, I’ll be champion of the Griffonstone Snail Races in no time!”

Rivet laughed, then leaned over, ignored a kink in his back, and scooped up Fashion Plate. He sat them both back so that Fashion Plate was leaned against Rivet’s chest and Rivet had his back to the soft quilt, which was against the tree. With quick hooves, he wrapped the quilt around the two of them. He felt himself sweat immediately, but more importantly, Fashion Plate stopped shivering. “Comfortable, Sparkles?”

“Immensely,” he replied. “And thank you, love.” His nose wrinkled, like he wanted to sneeze. “I’m glad the kids aren’t seeing me like this.”

“They’d love you all the same, Sparkles. They have from day one.” Rivet surveyed the valley before them, his face a dopey grin.

+++++++++++++++

I was a nervous wreck, marching around our hospital room like a zombie. “Think they’re okay? Should we ask the nurse again?”

You weren’t faring much better. You sat on the bed and fiddled with about eight different cameras, just in case, and your eyes were bloodshot. “I don’t know. I don’t know! The lighting in here is abysmal, and would it kill them to have a scrap of cloth in here that won’t scratch my lenses!?”

That was only a few years after they’d figured out magic-assisted surrogacy. There weren’t many regulations around it yet, and even big hospitals like Manehattan General had a tough time figuring out exactly what to do with us. Maple Sugar and her husband had been in the delivery room for nearly an hour, but after almost a day of labor and basically no sleep, the two of us were ready to turn inside out with worry.

I remember I kept mumbling stupid ideas like, “Do new fathers smoke cigars? It’s tradition, right? I don’t want to take up smoking, Sparkles. That would be bad for the baby. Do you think our foal will be mad at me if I don’t smoke a cigar when they’re born?”

Your mane was all out of sorts, and you were taking apart a camera for the fifth time. “What are you, my grandfather’s age? Nopony’s been allowed to smoke in a maternity ward for generations!” You didn’t look up from the camera. There were dozens of little clicks that seemed like they’d fallen into a rhythm, like you were a robot and just kept doing the same things over and over.

I was.

Knew it. That was the smart thing, though. I just kept wandering back and forth in that tiny room, straightening anything that wasn’t nailed down. The smell of cleaner and diaper powder had gotten so deep into my lungs that I thought I’d smell it forever.

I leaned against a counter. “I think I’m gonna be sick, Sparkles.”

That finally gave you something else to focus on. You gently floated your half-assembled camera onto a towel you’d laid out on a small table. “Well, when you’re done with that, come hold my mane back, because I’m going to lose it, too.”

I walked over to the bed. It creaked when I sat on it, and you kept your eyes on the ground. I held your hoof. I was dizzy. My hooves tingled. I had vertigo somehow. “What are we doing?”

“Heh. Little late to back out now,” you said with a shudder.

I put my other hoof to my face. “I’m taking so much time off. What if we can’t pay the bills? The new condo ain’t cheap.”

“It’s a good home, Papa Bear.”

I straightened up. “Papa Bear?”

You shrugged but still didn’t look up. “Trying it out. You fought so fiercely through all the legal work, the counseling, the…” You flicked a hoof. “...mating… parts. We’re here because of all the work you did.”

I leaned over and bumped your cheek with my nose. “You did plenty, too, Sparkles. Heck, we could only afford all the fees and payments because of you.”

You snorted. “Barely a compliment, PB.” Your ear flicked, and you scratched your cheek. “No, that sounds too much like peanut butter, and your mane is really more of an auburn.” With a shake of your head, you continued. “I just worry. As lucrative as my career has been, I’ve…” You shook your head, stunned, like you’d walked into a room destroyed by a tornado. “I’ve put it first so many times. Before you, even!” You finally looked at me. “What if I can’t put it down for our foal?”

“Oh, Sparkles,” I grabbed you and pulled you in like a teddy bear. “You’ll do great. You keep doing what you’re doing. We’ll figure it out.”

“But we need to make changes! Sacrifices!” You nuzzled my chest. “And I’m not being dramatic this time! My stars, Rivet, we’re going to be dads! We’ll be responsible for a…” You got real breathy, and your face drained of color. “A baby…” You went slack for just a moment.

I blacked out just thinking about it.

But you came to. I petted your mane. We were stuck in this limbo for who knows how long. We held each other, and it felt like we were falling through the floor. Over and over again. Just falling, falling, falling. I kept telling myself that we’d made this decision together. We’d see it through together, too.

And then there was a knock on the door, and the nurse peeked her head in. She wore a huge smile, and she softly whispered, “Mr. Rivet? Mr. Plate? Somepony special wants to meet you.”

I’ll remember every detail of that moment forever. I had my right foreleg around your barrel, and my left was on the opposite side of your face. The clock read 8:09pm, and the nurse flipped off the second and third lights, leaving just the one in the corner on. There was a cart. The wheels didn’t squeak at all, but it had six drawers of different sizes, and it was a shade of periwinkle. You’d stopped breathing, and so had I.

The cart hit a small bump as the nurse rolled it into the room, and the first noise we heard was a tiny “eh” as he was jostled awake for just a second. She stopped the cart in front of us, and…

And just… wow.

There he was: our son. He was back fast asleep. His orange coat was just a shade bolder than mine, and what little mane he had was your brilliant silver. He was on his back, wrapped in a blanket and under a heat lamp. We could see the blanket barely move with his tiny, even breaths.

And we fell in love immediately.

I didn’t even realize you’d moved until you’d kissed my cheek and whispered, “You first.”

I was already in a world of my own. Well, not my own, but something special with just the three of us. “H… Hi, little guy,” I whispered, quiet as I could. I wanted to keep a hoof on you, but the primal part at the back of my brain told me that I’d need all my limbs for this. “I’m… I’m your daddy.”

That first time I brushed his face… All the doubt left my body in an instant, and I knew that I would fight heaven and earth to protect him.

Without ever looking away, I asked the nurse, “Can I pick him up?”

This must have been her favorite part of the job. “Of course. Skin to skin contact is very important. I’ll help you unwrap him and walk you through the safest way to do it.”

It felt like a blur that lasted a decade and was over all too quickly, but after he was unwrapped, I picked him up and sat down on the big, plush chair in the corner. He whined a little, but he fell right back asleep on my chest, listening to my heartbeat. He was the softest thing I’d ever felt.

It was like I was floating. Like my body had been replaced by a cloud made of pure joy. For that moment, everything, everything was okay. I didn’t worry about our condo, our jobs, our time, or anything. We were with our son, and the whole world was just like it was supposed to be.

And I remember your eyes as you stood next to us. They were so full of wonder, Sparkles. They shimmered, brighter than the stars. You put a hoof on my shoulder, then gently ran your fetlock along his back. “This is… our son.” You blinked a few times, then chuckled to yourself. “This is our son, Rivet.”

“Yeah he is, Plate,” I whispered. I knew you felt it all, too. “And he needs a name.”

You couldn’t tear your eyes from him. “Want me to get out the shortlist again?”

I gently shook my head, then rested my cheek on our warm baby. “Nah. I think we both know. One, two, three…”

And at once, we both said, “Fire Forge.”

Even as a newborn colt, we knew how strong he’d grow up to be. He made a little “Mm” sound, like he was agreeing with us, and we knew we’d be okay.

+++++++++++++++

Rest

Rivet kissed the top of Fashion Plate’s head. “Wanna know what I find craziest about it all?”

“I can only guess, love.”

“We went through the same roller coaster with Glamor and Spotlight, too. Each time thinking that we wouldn’t be able to do it, to add another foal. But when we saw them, we knew right away that we’d done the right thing.”

Rivet could hear Fashion Plate’s smirk in his voice. “To be fair, you were threatening to geld yourself a month into parenthood.”

“Hahaha!” Rivet bellowed. “That was more due to the circumstances.”

+++++++++++++++

Your mother and my parents were all angels during those first few weeks.

If angels were pushy know-it-alls with opinions about everything.

Right. But we needed them all the same. Tartarus, my parents were so happy that their gay son had actually given them a grandfoal, they probably would have sold their house if we’d asked.

That whole first month is a warm, fuzzy blur. We tried to have a schedule so that both of us could sleep and take shifts, but Forge threw a new wrench at us every two hours.

What bothered me most was the half-finished wooden trim in the guest room.

That's what bothered you most?

Mmhm. Every time I walked past the pile of tools and cut wood, it reminded me that I wasn't able to do it all. I'd left a project unfinished. I hated that. It made my back tingle and my jaw tighten just walking past the doorway.

On your way to take care of our screaming colt, you mean.

Right. And I kept thinking, "What if he wiggles his way to my tools? What if he hurts himself because I'm too damn tired to clean up?" And every time I saw him, I'd grit my teeth and tell him I'd do it for him. I'd do anything for our family.

But there's a big gulf between "anything" and "everything," and foals need both.

It was a day about four weeks in, I think. Our parents were over to help, all of them at once, which turned into a whole production. I had to pass on all the information we’d learned from Forge’s last pediatrician visit, and you’d wisely passed out about forty minutes prior.

I came downstairs to the family room with a bucket of finishing nails, telling myself that at least I’d cleaned up that much. It felt like admitting defeat. And the idea of fishing them out again in the future was like staring down a mountain. I was just so damn tired… Even that little bucket felt like it weighed as much as me.

Your mom cradled Forge, who was asleep but fidgety. She gave me that wide smile that I love on you but that always made my stomach drop when she did it. “There’s our star. Hanging in there, Riv?”

“Hm…?” My eyes blinked out of sync with one another.

She nodded down at Forge. "He's going to be hungry. He's a big colt, so you should probably try to keep a bottle nearby. You really can't overfeed them at this stage."

"Yes, ma'am," I grunted through a yawn.

"Haha! I told you, Riv, Dazzle is fine. Or mom if you don't think Iris will be offended." Forge stirred in her hooves. "He might be waking up." She rubbed his face with her nose. "Who's a hungry colt? It's you. It's you!"

Just then, Iris popped her head through the kitchen doorway and waved. "Hi, son! I did a few dishes, but I don't know where the pans go. Can you show me?"

With a lurch, I replied, "You can leave them on the drying rack, mom." Dazzle looked up, but then she went back to nuzzling Forge.

For a second, I couldn’t remember where I was or why I was holding my bucket of nails.

The living room conversation seemed done, so I walked to the kitchen, trying to remember whether I’d told my mom I would take care of it. Like a robot, I grabbed some of the milk Maple had bagged for us, pulled out a bowl, and ran some hot water to warm it up.

Iris dried another pan. "Heating up another bottle? He's not even awake, is he?"

"He's a big colt," I mumbled, echoing Dazzle. My eyes drooped.

"Right, and do what you think is best, but your milk supply isn't unlimited." She set the pan on the counter. "Natural milk is a lot better than formula, but it's only good for an hour or so once you heat it up. You don't want Forge getting sick, but it's always tempting to push the boundaries of how long it can go, which can be dangerous."

I shut off the water. I’d only heard about every third word. "So I should wait, then?"

Mom nodded. "I would."

I sighed. "Okay."

The bag ended up going bad anyway, because I forgot to put it back in the fridge.

She saw the nails I was carrying. "Why don't you get your dad to help you put that away. He's just reading the paper and getting angry at the world anyway." She leaned over to the opposite doorway. "Hey, Onyx? Rivet could use a hoof."

Dad called out, “C’mon in, son.”

My march continued into the study. I still held onto the nails. “Hi, dad. Could you help me put some of this stuff away?”

He looked over the paper, paused, then folded it. “Sure, but I’m a little concerned about why you have a bunch of nails lying around in the first place.” His face flattened.

My shoulders slumped. I didn’t know how much further down they could go. “I’ve been trying to get around to it. I’d almost finished when we got word that Maple was in labor and–”

“Son, you can’t be leaving things around like that.” He stood up. “It might not look it, but Forge could start moving any time if he’s an early bloomer. You don’t want him swallowing something small like that, do you?”

“No, dad.” I took a deep breath. “That’s why I’m cleaning up now.”

“Should have cleaned up sooner.” He sighed, annoyed. “But yeah, I’ll help you out. Lemme just grab my water from the fridge.” He walked back into the kitchen, and I followed.

Then Forge started crying his hungry cry. The whole group of us (with me at the back) migrated to the family room to see what was happening. I dragged my hooves and got a stern look from my dad.

My mom looked at me with soft eyes as we entered. “He’s crying for you, Rivet. He wants his daddy.”

I moved towards the couch where Forge was crying. Every little fiber of my body wanted to comfort him, but I didn’t know if I could do it. I’d done it a hundred times already, but I was just… empty. My stomach felt iced over.

Dazzle looked up from him and spoke with absurd diction so I’d hear her. “Did you bring the milk? He seems pretty hungry.”

I pivoted in place towards the kitchen. The nails rattled in the can I was still holding. The ice worked its way up my spine.

Dad stepped in front of me. “Gonna need to wash your hooves real good, son. And be one-hundred-percent sure you don’t have any stray nails in your fur.”

The back of my neck felt cold. I turned towards the bathroom.

Mom spoke up over Forge. “Oh, at least give him a quick kiss! Let him know you’ll be right back.”

My throat sealed up. My fetlock was getting stiff from holding the nails. I turned back towards Forge.

And that was about when I lost track of who was talking. Their voices filled the room, talking louder and louder to be heard over Forge’s cries.

“Do you have any ready-made formula?”
“Gotta put his safety first, always.”
“Poor little guy needs you.”
“Has he been eating like the doctor said he would?”
“Where was that bag you had earlier?”
“You should hold him.”
“You should get him some food.”
“You should make sure he doesn’t have a fever.”
“You need to–”

I slammed the can of nails on the table.

It went as silent as it could with a crying baby in the room. Three sets of eyes fell on me like a barrel full of bricks.

And mine were on our son. I felt like a puppet with cut strings. The cold had made it all the way to my brain, and the silence hung there for Luna knows how long. To him, and only him, I squeaked, “I’m sorry, I–”

I couldn’t finish. I turned and walked up the stairs. None of our parents said anything to me, but as soon as I rounded the corner, they were back at it.

Forge’s cries stabbed through my heart, but I had nothing left. I told myself he was in much, much more capable hooves. After all, they were experts who knew what the fuck they were doing, and I’d just screw it up if I tried to walk down there again. After all, I couldn’t do something as simple as put a bucket of nails away.

My whole body was stiff. I trudged past the guest bedroom. Again. And it hurt to see my tools there. Again.

I stumbled into our bedroom. You groaned and snuggled back under the covers. I didn’t say anything, just flopped face-down onto my pillow.

That got you to stir. With my face buried like that, I couldn’t see you. But I heard your voice. It sounded like you’d been on a four-day bender and were just hitting the hangover, but I couldn’t blame you. “Sweetie? What’s wrong?”

My body tightened up. I was holding it all in. I felt frozen over, like if I let anything crack, I would shatter.

“Papa Bear?” You set a gentle hoof on me and stroked my mane. “You can tell me. I’m here.”

And shatter I did.

I just… wailed into my pillow. I don’t even know if I was making sense. I was screaming about how, “I can’t do it! There’s too much! I’m sorry! I’m a failure! Forge deserves somepony better. You deserve somepony better. I’m sorry. I’m sorry! I’m ruining our boy. I love him so much. I can’t do it. I’m sorry!”

You let me go on until I needed to catch my breath, and you asked softly, “What happened?”

“I don’t know!” I shook my head, trying to tunnel into the bed with my face so I could hide forever. “There’s so much going on, and…” My brain was fried. Nothing made sense..

Your voice took on an edge. “What did they do?” When I didn’t answer, you asked again, stern, “Rivet, what did our parents do?”

I took a shuddering breath and finally looked up. You didn’t have your glasses on, and your eyes were red. Your mane was all askew and sticking to the side, like you’d slept against a wet piece of glass. Your posture was like a scarecrow that had been left out over winter, and despite all that, you were still the handsomest stallion I had ever seen. Even with that wrinkled nose and furrowed brow, you looked so damn cute. “They’re just trying to help.”

“Okay, stepping in,” you sighed as you rolled off the bed.

My gut told me to get up and go with you, but my nerves were too burned out to move. “What are you gonna do?”

As you walked around the bed to the doorway, you stood up taller and set your jaw. “Nopony bullies my husband. I don’t care who they are.” You looked at me. “Just wait here.”

I was too far gone to argue, so I flopped down onto the bed again and sobbed.

You were down there for maybe four minutes. I heard little bits of the conversation – your voice carries, Sparkles – and you weren’t afraid to tell them the truth. Forge had stopped crying, and when I heard you marching up the steps more slowly than usual, I knew you’d taken him with you.

The door opened gently with your magic. You held Forge in your foreleg and cradled him to your chest. I wanted to offer to help, but by the time I mustered the energy, you’d come back around the bed, set him down between us, and sat on the bed yourself. Your voice sounded hoarse. “There. Just the three of us.”

Looking at Forge squirming, uncomfortable… All those feelings of failure came rushing back, and I wanted to cry again.

You waved at me quickly and spoke directly, without your usual flair. You sounded like you hadn’t slept in a week. Which, really, you hadn’t. “Hey. Hey! You can cry in two minutes, but I need you to know something.” You pointed to the door. “Out there? There are ponies that have a lot of experience but who are decades out of practice. It’s like…” Your head shook. “I don’t know. Imagine I came up with a stunningly perfect metaphor about your job.”

I sniffed. “Like a foreman with formal training but no on-site experience?”

“Yes! Precisely!” You slicked your mane back. The hairs stuck every which way. “I knew we still had a couple brain cells to rub together between us.” Carefully, you set a hoof on Forge’s chest. You floated a bottle to his face, and he started sucking. “Look, when it comes down to it, there is exactly one pony you need to listen to for parenting advice.”

My ears drooped. Innocently, I asked, “You?”

You snorted a laugh, which startled Forge for just a moment. “Sweetie, I’m flattered, but no.” You nodded at me. “It’s you. You’re the one that has to make decisions. Yes, we’ll need to work together, but I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing either.” You narrowed your eyes. “And yes, I’m going to swear in front of him right now. We’ve earned it. The truth is, our parents have never raised a foal as a gay couple before. Precious few of us exist.” You took a breath, softened your eyes, and smiled at me. “You’ll always have me to lean on when somepony needs to be told off, but parenting? You’re the best Celestia-damned parent I know.” You reached over and touched my hoof. “You have the instincts for it. So dig down deep: what are your instincts telling you is most important right now?”

I sat up a little and looked at Forge. He continued suckling happily, and I just watched him. Really watched him. The frozen knot inside my body thawed the more I looked at him, and I felt all the love in the world I have for him. “I…”

You shook your head. “I’m not looking for the right answer, Papa Bear. I’m looking for your answer. What do you think is important? Because I’m too fucking tired to know at this point.”

It hung there in front of me. It seemed so obvious when I was looking at Forge. “He needs to know that he’s safe and loved.”

You nodded. “Good. Good, keep going.”

I slowly reached out and brushed his mane. The new foal smell hit my nose and further undid the knot. “He could probably use a diaper change, but more than that, there’s been a lot of activity today. He needs to know that we’re both still here for him, no matter what.”

You smiled. “That sounds perfect.” You stood up from the bed. “I need to do damage control, but you do that thing you said. I’m letting go of the bottle.” Your magic faded, and I caught it. You smiled at me. “See? You’ve already got the dad reflexes.” You left and shut the door behind you.

I let my hoof rest on Forge’s chest for a moment, but he groaned for his bottle. I sat up with my back against the headboard and cradled him like they showed us in all the books, and I fed him again.

His whole body relaxed as I held him, and he sucked on his bottle like a champ.

I focused on that as much as I could. Even with the loud noises and all the commotion, he felt safe in my embrace, and that meant the world to me. I leaned down and kissed his forehead and smelled more of that special foal smell. And I told him, “Son… Still feels weird saying that word sometimes, but it feels good, too. Son, your dad and I love you more than anything in the world.” I shook my head. “I don’t know how to say that in a way that you’ll understand, but it’s true.”

Forge had slowed down on the bottle.

A tear rolled down my face. “So I’ll keep saying it. I think you can feel it.” I rocked him slowly, like he always liked. “I love you, Fire Forge. I love you with my whole heart, a whole part of me I never knew I had.”

I sang him a lullaby, and soon, Forge was back asleep. You stuck your head in a minute later. “Don’t worry your delightfully stubbly head about it, Papa Bear. I gave them some chores so they’d feel useful. Your dad is going to leave his toolbox organizer here. That way, you can keep the trim replacement supplies in a safe place.”

“Thanks, hon.”

“I’ll come back in a few minutes to change him. Anything you need?”

Fancy big-city unicorn or not, I realized I was looking at the strongest pony in all of Equestria, somepony that would take care of me when I was at my lowest, no matter how sleep-deprived we both were. And I smiled.

+++++++++++++++

Nurture

Fashion Plate snuggled back into Rivet’s chest. His movements were tiny and sharp, punctuated with the grunts of stifled hip pain. “If you held him half as well as you’re holding me…” Fashion Plate took two big breaths. “Oof. Sorry. Still a little winded from the dance. But if you held him like this, then I’m sure he knew he was loved.”

Rivet didn’t say anything. He just stared at the ducks down at the pond. They swam together in tandem, never parting by more than a few body lengths. He held Fashion Plate firmly around his middle, feeling his husband’s ragged breathing. He hoped each one would be more regular.

Fashion Plate lazily stroked Rivet’s foreleg. “The kids know how much we love them, Papa Bear. They know what’s coming, and they'll be there to help. Spotlight’s running logistics at the funeral, Glamor has the program all set up, and Forge is nearly done with the centerpiece.” Fashion Plate looked up at his husband and took four more breaths. “I wanted to see it, but he said that it’s not a memorial piece if he finishes it before I–” He saw Rivet’s ears drop and his eyes water. “If he finishes too early before the big show.”

Rivet swallowed. “They’re good kids,” he choked out. He gazed out into nothingness. The ghost of a smile flickered across his face. “Best we could ask for.”

"Of course." Fashion Plate felt heavy, and he studied Rivet. The way that his gentle giant sulked reminded him of a wilting flower. That wouldn't do. Fashion Plate mustered what energy he could, and he sighed dramatically. “Although… There is one thing I feel like an utter failure for.”

“Hm?” Rivet snapped back to attention and looked down. “Hon, you’re a great dad. What’s wrong?”

Fashion Plate kissed Rivet’s hoof. “I’m almost too ashamed to say it.”

“You can tell me anything, love.”

“It’s just…” He sucked in a dramatic breath and buried his face in Rivet’s shoulder. “I can’t believe they all turned out straight,” he mock-sobbed. He looked up at Rivet with big, glassy puppy eyes. “Oh, my love! Where did we go wrong!?”

Rivet snorted a laugh. “Snnnnk, hahaha!” He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Well, I guess we couldn’t be perfect. Oh, well. They’re still so much more than we could have hoped for.”

Fashion Plate turned his head and nudged Rivet’s shoulder. “And they have you to thank for it.”

“Us.”

For as many times as he’d cut the tension before, Fashion Plate rarely felt the tension cut back. He paused. He looked out at the ducks. They swam back and forth along the pond, never going anywhere, but drifting together, content to merely exist in the same space.

Fashion Plate took another raspy breath. “In that case, we did it, and now they’re–”

“I don’t want you to go, Sparkles.” Rivet’s voice cracked. He refused to look down or let go, despite how sweaty Fashion Plate felt him getting.

Fashion Plate let his head hang. He considered his words. “I… don’t want to go, either, but this is the price we pay, love.” When he didn’t get a response, he continued. “But I don’t think of it like that. We won, Papa Bear. By practically any metric, we got to have it all. A warm home, a lifetime of love, three wonderful children, five grandchildren, maybe more if Spotlight’s coltfriend ever grows a pair and proposes…” He rubbed Rivet’s shoulder with the side of his face. “We got to have it all, love. Even right now. I can’t imagine a more beautiful way to spend one of my last–”

“Don’t say it.”

“I have to, love. It’s going to happen. And I know you’re staying strong for me, and you know that I’m letting you do it, because you’d be mad at yourself if you spent our last days together crying to me about it.” He chuckled warmly through a cough. “And we’ve built up so many fucking layers of understanding at this point that it’s infuriating trying to keep secrets from you. Seriously, you’ve become impossible to surprise at Hearth’s Warming.” He kissed Rivet’s hoof again to disguise another cough. “But in a way, that means we’ve learned what we can, and it’s time to move on to what’s next.”

Rivet finally met his husband’s gaze. He stroked Fashion Plate’s mane, and behind those eyes, he saw both the strength of a pony who cared deeply for him and the fear behind the facade. Rivet shook his head. “What am I gonna do without you, Sparkles?”

Fashion Plate flashed a smile. “Well, for starters, you’ve got a date with Promontory next month on the eighteenth.”

Rivet blinked twice. “A… What?”

Fashion Plate stretched a leg. “Nothing too frou-frou. Dinner at that new gastropub downtown.” He yawned. “The one with the hatchet-throwing lanes. Then you’ve got a carriage ride so you two can talk. And Glamor already said that you’re not invited to the cabin for Hearth’s Warming if you skip out on it, so don’t get cold hooves.”

Rivet shook his mane out. “Wait, a… a date?”

“Yes, dear, try to keep up.” He batted his eyes cartoonishly.

“I… What?” Rivet cleared his throat and focused. “Honey, I appreciate the thought, but… even if you’re…” He wrenched his eyes shut and forced away a thought. “Even if things happen before then, I… I won’t be ready to date again.” He cocked an eyebrow and blew air out of his lips. “And Tartarus, isn’t Tory straight?”

“Oh, honey.” Fashion Plate looked up with soft, condescending eyes and shook his head. “Ooooooh, honey.” He reached up and cradled Rivet’s chin. “You sweet, innocent angel. No no no, after Plum Blossom passed, the gossip is that he’s been experimenting. And he’s already agreed to the date, so he’s interested.”

Rivet scratched at his head. It felt like water had flooded into his skull, and nothing made sense.

Fashion Plate looked back and up. “Oh, come now. Don’t tell me you’re not at least a little excited! Promontory is a hunk of a specimen, even at his age. And from what I hear, he’s quite the gentlestallion. Frankly, I’m jealous you’ll get to know him better.”

Rivet frowned and couldn’t seem to stop shaking his head.

“And think of the fun you’ll have! Somepony to talk shop with, go on… I don’t know, woodworking retreats, I suppose? And after years of being with a delicate flower like myself, I’m sure you’ll enjoy the feeling of another meathead to slap your body against.” Fashion Plate felt the slightest stirring against the base of his back. “Aha! I felt that, sweetie. You do have a certain curiosity. Oh, how devilishly salacious!”

Rivet blushed at his body’s betrayal. His eyes welled up with tears. “I can’t just replace you, Sparkles.”

“Nopony can, darling. It’s not about replacing me.” He tried to turn himself around, but he settled back into Rivet. “It’s about taking care of you. I know how sulky you get when you don’t have a project.”

Rivet looked away. “He’s a pony, love. Not a workbench.”

“But he needs you, and you’ll need him.” Fashion Plate let his eyes close. “Friends were hard to come by in his line of work, and he certainly doesn’t know about queer relationships.” He took a second to catch his breath. “But what he does know is the grieving process. You’ll mentor each other.”

“I’m–” Rivet swallowed. “I’m going to be a wreck, Sparkles.”

“No,” Fashion Plate wheezed. “You’re going to hurt, but you’re tougher than that. You can keep your head about you, even in grief. I’ve seen it.”

=====

It was our first family cruise. It was late summer, and we’d almost canceled it after your father passed away. But you insisted we stick to the plan – Onyx wouldn’t have wanted to interrupt family bonding time. That’s what you said.

But it weighed on you. The kids were… not over it, but young enough that they still couldn’t wrap their heads around it. Fire Forge had just turned twelve, Glamor was ten, and Spotlight was nearly eight. They were still at that beautiful age where it was easy to focus on what was in front of them.

Of course, what was in front of Forge was a giant boat, and we weren’t running up the docks with him to get on it. “Daaaaads, hurry up! It’s going to leave!” He pointed one hoof and tapped another one. His eyes were furrowed, and he just kept grunting. His orange coat shone extra bright in the sunshine of the docks. “I can carry your bags! Just hurry up!”

You chuckled while Spotlight bounced and scrambled around your back like a caffeinated orange-and-blue hedgehog. You called to him, “There’s a line up the ramp, Forge. We won’t board any faster by rushing.”

Glamor levitated her parasol above her with her magic. “Daddy, can you make Forge stop yelling?” The way she carried herself, even at that age, already practically screamed ‘modeling career.’ I would have worried more about her getting sunburned and having it show through her periwinkle coat and caramel-colored mane, but she had that covered. “This is supposed to be a relaxing vacation.”

I smiled down at her and spoke gently, even though I was nudging Spotlight with my magic every three steps to keep her from falling off of you. “Darling, that’s just how he relaxes: by expending all his energy! I can appreciate it, if I do say so myself.”

Glamor rolled her eyes. “He never makes any sense.”

Meanwhile, Spotlight had crawled up your neck and was yelling in your ear about the big water slide, the Typhoon. “I think you can sneak me on! I can probably pretend to be a little taller, and if we get caught, they can’t get rid of us, because they can’t throw us overboard, because that wouldn’t be allowed, and it would make all the guests upset, so I think we can try it! Can we?” She beamed at you while clamped onto your face.

You spoke through the jaw that Spotlight held shut. “They’ll have lots of fun things, Spot.” You exaggerated your speech and shot me a glance. “But I would never break the rules like that.” And you loudly whispered, “Not while your dad is watching.” You just loved pretending to not be the disciplinarian.

You brought the hammer down sometimes, too.

Only when they really got to me. I have the curse of the permissive creative type. Or I was just lazy. Parenting is hard.

Spotlight giggled and hopped down off of you. She grabbed her bag and ran towards Forge, who was at the back of the line on the ramp and trying to see past all the other ponies. We caught up, and a mote of deviant glee sparked at the back of my skull as I watched Forge realize that you had been right.

Once we’d gotten past security, the walk to our room tickled my every sense! The samba music playing in the foyer as we entered, the tantalizing gourmet cookies offered to every passer-by, the luxurious carpets that felt soft enough to be brand new, ponies in hoof-tailored suits offering to help at every turn… Ah! Even in the absolute deluge of ponies walking through the entrance, it felt like we were celebrities!

And the kids were having none of it.

As soon as we walked into our oceanview room, Glamor tugged my foreleg. “Daddy, if we don’t hurry to the pool, the best lounge chairs will be taken!”

Forge grabbed me from the other side. “Yeah! And I don’t wanna have to wait in line for the Typhoon!”

Meanwhile, Spotlight was wordlessly throwing on her swimsuit.

I looked at our luggage, practically begging to be unpacked, then looked at you. Your eyes were half-lidded, and the softness of your face told me that there was no stopping it, so we might as well embrace it.

I beamed. “Well, if you all insist!”

Spotlight and Forge squealed with delight, and even Glamor raced to the bed to tear through her glitter-laced luggage. In the chaos, you cut in, “But I’ll tackle anypony who tries to leave this room without sunscreen.”

Forge took that as a challenge, and to his credit, he almost made it.

Sparkles, not to interrupt your complimenting me, but… you really think I’ll be okay just because I kept the kids from getting sunburned after dad passed?

As much as I admire your heroic devotion to personal safety, Papa Bear, I’m more concerned about what happened at the pool.

I’d been on luxury cruises before, mostly for work, but I’d never been on one oriented towards families.

You chose to spend your twenties with hot, nearly-naked celebrities instead of trapped on a boat with a thousand screaming foals?

Shocking, I know. But the pools on the celebrity cruises had nothing on this one. It was an entire water park on a boat! Besides the Typhoon, which made my stomach drop just looking at it, there were about a dozen water slides, six different pools for all kinds of functions, a lazy river, and a frankly absurd number of hot tubs. The open air kept the chlorine smell from being overwhelming, at least. Even that early into the cruise, sections were already filling up with other eager families.

I was more concerned about etiquette and properly reserving chairs for us. I unfolded our towels nicely with my magic and lay them across a row of five chairs.

We’d barely started settling in before Forge threw his towel on the ground. “Pops, it’s closed! This cruise is stupid.”

We both looked over to a sign in front of the Typhoon. It didn’t operate until the ship left port, apparently.

You snorted at Forge. “Buddy, we’ve talked about calling things stupid.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He looked all around, then huffed, “I’m gonna go play water basketball.”

“I wanna come!” Spotlight shouted. She jumped down from the chair where she’d been laying out all her toys.

Forge started to growl something, but he saw you staring at him. He sighed. “Okay, but I’m not letting you win.”

“I won’t let you win, either!” Spotlight puffed out her chest and gave him a giant grin.

“Ha, sure, but… Oh, come on!” He looked back over his shoulder and saw two pegasus colts about his age. They had jumped in with their father and claimed the hoop. “No fair!”

You looked up from our duffel bag. I think you were checking to make sure we had Spotlight’s meds safely out of the sun. You looked between Forge and the hoop. “Well, looks like it’s time to introduce yourself, buddy.”

“I don’t wanna,” he whined. His ears drooped, and he cast his eyes downward.

You looked over to me, gave me a shrug and a smile, and stepped up to him. “Son, are you afraid of making new friends?”

Forge didn’t look up. He shrugged. His tail thrashed once. He sneered at the ground. “...No,” he fumed.

You didn’t miss a beat. “Great! Neither am I. I’m gonna go play some basketball. Coming, Spot?”

Spotlight leapt into the water. “Yeah!” Her small body made a shockingly large splash.

“Cannonball!” You jumped in after her, dousing her again just as she came up for air. She laughed through a few coughs.

Forge sulked over to Glamor and me. He flopped onto his towel on my right side, and from my left, Glamor floated one of her magazines over to him. She spoke softly. “Want something to read, big brother? There’s an article about the Appleloosa buckball team.”

Forge’s ears swiveled to her, but he paused and sneered. “No. But… thanks.” He curled up and sat his head on his forehooves.

“Okay,” she responded quietly. She settled back into her chair, but she kept looking back at him. She left the magazine at the edge of Forge’s seat, just in case.

Through his complaining about the chairs being uncomfortable, Forge sat up and watched you and Spotlight. She was in the middle of a breath-holding contest with the two pegasi colts. You had already struck up a conversation with their father, a gray stallion with a black mane. He was sort of cute, but his mustache took up far too much real estate.

You, however, looked positively radiant. The water came up to your chest, and the little rivulets from your mane traced down your neck and over your body. We’d both put on some weight after the kids were born, but on you, it worked. And more than your jaw-droppingly gorgeous looks, you were in your element again. You were casual, relaxed at the shoulders, and clearly steering the conversation without talking too much. You cracked some joke that had the other dad in stitches, and when the older pegasus colt won their breath-holding contest, he bounced in the water at whatever compliment you gave him.

Forge saw it all, too. He turned towards me, but behind my sunglasses, I don’t think he could see me looking at him. His eyes bored into me, but I didn’t flinch. Even if I didn’t know what it was, I knew you were doing something, and I didn’t want to screw it up.

Glamor, of course, was perfectly content reading her magazine.

A waiter came by and offered us some kind of pineapple cocktail from a tray. I asked if they were family-friendly. He said yes, and I sighed and said I’d take one anyway. Glamor got one, and I asked Forge, “Would you like one, sweetie?”

He paused. “I… don’t think so.”

“As you wish.” I took my drink, then leaned back and resumed pretending to pony-watch.

We both looked back at you. The game had started: foals versus stallions. You and the other dad were having fun throwing your weight around and tackling the foals into the water, but three-on-two was too much, and the kids kept scoring on you. Or maybe you let them score.

Forge watched intensely.

You made a few more plays, then took a break. The foals kept swimming in circles playing some kind of game, and you went back to chatting with the other father. I saw you flinch during the conversation. The pegasus did, too. You quickly said something, and if I had to guess, it was that your father had passed away but you were trying to keep a happy face on for the kids.

Yep. Pretty much.

The pegasus just nodded, cracked some corny joke or other, and you moved on with the conversation. But what happened next still amazes me.

You looked over at Forge. Even with the bright light reflecting off the water, you made sure the two of you had solid eye contact. Then, you smiled at him gently and gave him a little wave.

And that was it. Frankly, it was masterful. You were acknowledging him, letting him know he was missed. But at the same time, you weren’t pressuring him to come in. You wanted him to make the decision on his own: keep sulking, or jump in and have fun. And yet, you weren’t leaving him without guidance: you’d shown him that it was okay to approach a stranger, strike up a conversation, and enjoy whatever fleeting time you had with them. It wasn’t even manipulative. You were a role model. At that moment, I was convinced you could handle even the whiniest prima donna in the fashion world.

Forge didn’t say anything, but it was like a dark cloud had lifted from his spot on the sun deck. He raised his head, saw you and Spotlight again, then stood up. He walked, then ran, then jumped into the water, and every part of his awkward, adolescent body unfolded with curiosity and confidence.

Glamor looked up from her magazine. “Where’s Fire Forge going?”

“He’s making friends,” I replied. I sipped my drink, and it tasted so much sweeter.

Forge swam out and introduced himself to the other colts. Spotlight was ecstatic to have him there. And you fiendishly foxy father, you swam over to help get all of them right back into the fun: a winner-take-all basketball game, earth ponies versus pegasi. Our family ended up winning a long, close game; even though the pegasus colts were older, their wings slowed them down in the water. Watching the three of you celebrate warmed my heart, and when Forge rushed back to ask if I’d seen that awesome play he and Spotlight had pulled, I didn’t know if I could be more pleased.

And I was so, so proud of you, Papa Bear. You walked up behind them, soaked, but with a confident smirk on your face. You knew what you’d done, and you’d rightfully earned that braggadocious swagger. Even with your father’s death in the back of your mind and the weight of watching three foals on a massive vacation, you kept moving forward. You’d taught Forge how to choose happiness, because that’s what you were doing, too.

You’re a great father, Rivet, and a wonderful husband. But you need a reminder every once in a while, too, just like everypony else. So, remember: if you can keep your eyes on what’s in front of you, you’ll be okay. You need only remember to choose happiness.

===

And Most of All, Love

A white, puffy cloud rolled in from the east. It broke apart as it hit a mountaintop, then dissipated into invisible vapor.

The stallions lingered beneath their tree.

Rivet swallowed. His mouth was dry. He was sweaty, but he resolved not to complain.

Over the course of his story, Fashion Plate had deflated in Rivet’s hooves. His breathing was shallow. He looked sleepy. "Papa Bear?"

"Yeah?" Rivet whispered. He clung to Fashion Plate with stiff forelegs and found he couldn't blink.

Fashion Plate rubbed Rivet's fetlock with a hoof. "Keep a secret?"

Rivet bent down and kissed the top of his husband’s head. "Yeah."

"You must promise not to freak out." He furrowed his eyebrows.

There was a long pause. A small bird darted by, snatching a bug from the air. "I'll do my best."

Fashion Plate took a long, shuddering breath. "I'm scared, Papa Bear."

Rivet was a statue. "I know." His eyes were too full of tears to take in the scenery anymore. "And I'm… I'm angry at myself that I can't help."

Fashion Plate turned his head to the side and kissed Rivet’s shoulder. "You're doing everything, love. You’ve done everything.”

A slight breeze cooled Rivet’s forehead. “It doesn’t feel like enough.”

“Then let me put it this way: we’ve done everything.” Fashion Plate caught his breath. “We met, fell in love, we have a beautiful family, and you’ve made an old stallion happy. That’s really all there is. Well, almost." He coughed up some phlegm, hocked, and spit faraway on the ground, like Rivet had shown him how to years ago. “Is my camera nearby?”

“Yeah, it’s right here.” He shifted and started to reach a hoof. “I’ll–”

“I’ve got it, love.” Fashion Plate’s horn flickered with a golden light. The camera was enveloped in the same glow. For a moment, it didn’t move. Fashion Plate grunted, and the camera floated into the air, shaky. “I was hoping to do a hillside portrait at golden hour, but I think I’ll like this composition better.”

Rivet watched as the camera floated in front of them. He drew a sharp breath. “Shoot, my mane’s a mess.” He reached up. “Lemme–”

“As you are, love.” He set a light, bony foreleg on Rivet’s thigh. “I want you as you are. That’s enough for me.”

Rivet swallowed. He felt every little hair that was out of place, from the gnarled fibers at the top of his mane to the matted streaks under his eyes.

Fashion Plate forced himself to sit back up, then he leaned back into his husband’s chest. “Now think about how much I love you.”

For just a second, Rivet felt his shoulders relax. He felt the sun’s rays, the sticky embrace of the summer air, and all the colors of the universe wash over him. He felt the warm pony, held tight in his grasp, and his chest felt full for the first time in days. He smiled.

Chk-bvvd.

Fashion Plate quietly clapped his hooves together. For a moment, his rickety, cracking voice shone with the energy of his youth. “Stupendous! Marvelous! Inconceivably incredible!” He shivered again and rubbed his back against Rivet. “Use that one, Papa Bear. It’s perfect.”

The camera spat out the photo, a gray square on the glossy paper, and the image began to take form.

Rivet chuckled. “You haven’t even seen it yet.”

“No need. I told you: I put everything I am into every photo.” He tilted his head back to look up at Rivet. “And right now, even if it’s scary, I feel completely safe. It’ll come through in the picture, and that’s what I want you and the kids to remember me like.”

Fashion Plate turned his head and allowed the magic of his horn to slowly fade. On the grass next to them, the camera and the photo came to rest.

“I’ll take good care of it,” Rivet whispered. “Now, you need to stretch your legs. Get the blood flowing again.”

Fashion Plate held onto his smile, even as his eyes darted between his husband and the grass.

“I’ve got a little of your favorite whiskey. I know the nurses said you shouldn’t, but… heh. Well, they’re not here, right?”

Fashion Plate looked up at his husband with dreamy eyes.

Rivet paused. His chest felt tight. “Hon, would you like me to turn you around? Give you a boost?”

“Love, I…” Fashion Plate took a moment. He ensured he was making eye contact. “It’s okay. I… don’t think I’m standing up again.”

Rivet’s throat sealed up, and his head felt like a helium balloon. He shook his head. “Nonsense.” He looked all around. “There’s a flat patch over there. I’ll be your crutch. I can keep the blanket draped over us, and–”

“Rivet.”

He stopped moving, then slowly looked back to the frail, blue stallion in his embrace.

Fashion Plate drew a long, rattling breath. “I want to stay here with you.”

Rivet replied immediately. “Then I’ll never leave.”

“Heh. Don’t get carried away.” Fashion Plate leaned to the side and rested his head on Rivet’s shoulder. His words were breathy. “Just… keep going with the stories. It’s comforting.”

Rivet took in every detail he could: the way Fashion Plate’s mane still smelled like scented pomade, how his lithe body draped across him like a silk curtain, the way his dazzling fur still looked so healthy… He wished a photo could capture it all. “What, uh… What do you want to hear about?”

“Hm…” Fashion Plate’s eyes fluttered closed. “How about the road trip?”

Rivet stifled a laugh. “I thought you wanted happy memories?”

“We were happy at the end, and it’s a good story, right?”

Rivet sighed. He kissed his husband’s ear. “Anything for you, Sparkles.”

+++++++++++++++

It started out just like we’d planned. We dropped Spotlight off at the Manehattan Technical University for the Arts on her first college weekend. The orientation ceremony felt a little bloated with speakers and music, but Spot loved every minute of it. She kept eyeing the techs working the sound boards and overhead lights, and she was bold enough to introduce herself to her Intro to Theater Tech professor the first chance she got. Oh, she was already flourishing, Sparkles. Our goodbye was still painful, but seeing her so excited made it bearable, and I think we handled it well.

You were… an absolute puddle… of a pony, love.

And that’s pretty good for me. You shuffled me out the door with a gentle, “Let’s go, Papa Bear, before they need to put up a ‘slippery when wet’ sign. Taxi!”

We had it all planned out: a celebratory trip across Equestria, just the two of us. Boating in Baltimare, sightseeing in Canterlot, a bed and breakfast experience in Ponyville, and hiking through the Macintosh Mountains during a stay in Appleloosa. It was going to be a chance to reconnect with each other, just the two of us. A way to celebrate our family’s success.

A way… to stave off… the empty nest syndrome.

Right. I would have flooded the condo with tears if we’d gone straight back home. But we had our luggage, we piled into the first taxi that stopped, and we headed for the train station. We were dodging rush hour, thank Celestia, but, well, it was still traffic in Manehattan.

It gave us time to collect ourselves, though. You kept your hoof on my thigh the whole ride, and when we were a few blocks away, we finally struck up the conversation. You kissed my cheek. “Think you’ll take that foreman contract down on Ninth, or wait for something a little less intense?”

I laughed. “Changing the subject already?”

That dazzling smile flashed across your face. “If you’re still waiting for me to be subtle after three decades, then you’re even thicker than I thought.”

“Heh heh.” I bumped my forehead into your cheek, then growled in your ear, “But I heard you like ‘em thick.”

“Indeed I do!” You jerked your head towards the cab driver. “But let’s not weird out the normies, love. Not until after we pay him, at least.”

The cabbie’s ears swiveled forward.

I winked at you. “Well, as soon as I get you alone, I’ll–” The cab lurched. “Bah!” I bit my tongue. “Dammit!” You clung to me as the cab rocked.

Some jerk has side-swiped us and dashed through a stop sign, but he was long gone by the time our cabbie started cursing him out. The cabbie turned to us and tried to smile. “Sorry, gentlecolts. You okay? Aw, shoot, I’ll grab your luggage.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Our luggage?” You looked behind us and gasped, and your glasses fell off your face. “Ah! My hoof-tailored Luca Lapony blue linen!”

My blood ran cold, and I turned to see that your suitcase had gotten jostled out of the cab and flown open. Your clothes were everywhere, and your best dress shirt was getting run over.

“I got it, hon,” I said, unbuckling myself. The cabbie yelled at me to stay in the cab, but he was taking his sweet time unhitching himself. I told myself I was a safe pony. I looked both ways, and I knew how to handle work in heavy-traffic areas. I saw all the cabs racing by, the stop lights, the little dangers everywhere, and I was confident I could get it all without getting injured.

What I didn’t see was that the little step at the side of the cab had been folded in.

“Gah!” I yelled as I tumbled and landed face first on the pavement. Thinking quick, I hopped up to avoid getting hit by another carriage, but I gritted my teeth and drew a sharp breath as soon as I set weight on my right forehoof. “Dammit!”

“Rivet, it’s fine!” you protested. “Get back in here! It’s alright!”

The cabbie screamed at me to get inside, but in my mind, I was committed. Injury or no, I would get that shirt, because it was important to you. Deep down, I knew it was just a piece of clothing and you wanted me to be safe, but we were starting a new adventure, and, well, I wanted to be your knight in shining armor.

Love…

I looked again. That cabbie had a lot of words for me, but he was still trying to unhitch himself. I swung around the back during a break in traffic and threw your other clothes back into your suitcase. Then I looked, and your shirt was right there, just out of reach, and–

Rivet?

…Yeah? What is it, honey?

I’m… sorry to interrupt.

It’s no problem, Sparkles. What’s wrong?

I… I think it’s happening.

…

+++++++++++++++

Rivet’s jaw trembled. Despite the warmth of their quilt, his blood ran cold. He looked down at his husband, his partner for over half a century, lying across his lap and taking vanishingly shallow breaths. Rivet choked back tears and whispered, “Please… no…”

Fashion Plate’s shoulder moved slightly. It may have been a shrug or a spasm. “Have to… I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s…” Rivet’s mind spun. He thought back to the pamphlets, the books, the advice from the doctors, anything to guide him. He remembered what Fashion Plate had told him to remind him of, and he took a deep breath. Evenly, he said, “Sparkles, I love you more than the whole world.” He sniffled and swallowed some snot. It all felt so small and inadequate. “The world is so much more beautiful with you in it, and your family… We’re…”

Fashion Plate rolled his head to the side a few inches and looked up. He looked so, so tired.

Rivet cleared his throat and wiped a tear on his shoulder. “The kids will be okay. We’ll remember you forever. And they’ve all got something to remember you by.”

Fashion Plate tilted his head. With a tiny whisper, he said, “Give Spotlight my camera.” His words had begun to slur.

Rivet mouthed, “I will,” but no sound came out.

“Thank you.” Fashion Plate took a massive breath, and Rivet held his. Fashion Plate resumed his slow breathing.

“W-w…” Rivet bit the inside of his cheek and told himself to focus. It all felt too fast. His brain raced: what had gone wrong? Was it the dancing? The wine? His body screamed at him to do something, but the more he tried to move, to think, to do anything, the faster time seemed to go. “What do you need, my love?”

“Haha…” Fashion Plate hugged Rivet’s foreleg with his chin. “I don’t need anything, love.” He wheezed. “I got to… have it all. But I… guess I want one thing.” His ear flicked. “Two things.” He blinked, looked up at Rivet, and smirked. “Well… let’s start with three, and… see how it goes.”

Rivet half-laughed, half-sobbed, and softly pet Fashion Plate’s silky mane. “Anything.”

“I want a kiss. Make… it count.”

Rivet didn’t hesitate. For a moment, he let himself give in, and he lifted Fashion Plate’s face. He leaned down and kissed him deeply, hard, letting himself get lost in the feeling of his lover’s lips. The soft way their mouths intertwined, the warmth of their faces pressed together, the cheeky nibble Fashion Plate gave Rivet’s lower lip when he let his guard down. Rivet poured himself into his kiss, hoping with every part of his heart that Fashion Plate knew how much he was loved.

And finally, he pulled away, stifling a sob.

Fashion Plate’s eyes gleamed. With his weak voice, he said, “Stunningly superb!”

Rivet brought Fashion Plate’s head to his chest, and he kissed his mane. “What else?”

Fashion Plate was silent.

“H-honey?”

“Sorry… Kiss took my breath away.” They shared a tiny chuckle, and Fashion Plate said, “I want you to look at me… and tell me you’ll be okay. And mean it.”

Rivet’s chest shook. He dug deep into himself, telling himself to stay strong, but the truth of his heart leapt from his mouth. “If I do that, you’ll go.”

Fashion Plate barely shook his head. “I’m going either way, love. Please.”

Rivet tried to say something. He tried so hard, but he just looked away.

And at his side, lying in the grass, he saw a camera and a fully-developed photo. The photo showed two ponies, madly in love, with the light of the sun on their smiling, calm, wrinkled faces. They held each other close, wrapped in an ancient quilt and the memories of the lifetime they had shared. They were two ponies that had seen so much, built so much, including a family that would still need him when one of those ponies couldn't be there anymore.

Rivet felt his heart swell. There was so much of his husband left in the world, scattered across all the ponies whose lives he’d touched, and it was up to him to ensure the legacy lived on. But how could he? He took a deep breath and mumbled, “I’ll be okay.”

“Lemme see.”

Rivet looked back to Fashion Plate and helped his husband turn his head, so that they could face each other. Fashion Plate’s eyes were glassy and unfocused, but somehow, Rivet felt more seen than he ever had in his life. There was a calm on his husband’s face. There were no tears, just the look of a satisfied pony that had everything he ever wanted right in front of him.

Rivet looked at him. He looked deeply into those wide, beautiful eyes and remembered their children, their home, and their lives together. And he thought about all the gifts that his wonderful husband had given him: companionship, guidance, fun, touch, experiences, a love that he could carry with him forever, and so much more. And even in this wonderful pony’s final days, he had worked so hard to ensure Rivet would not be left to suffer. Rivet doubted he could go on, but he trusted his Sparkles. His husband believed in him, so Rivet silently promised to believe in himself, too. He promised to choose happiness, and he once again felt love bloom in his heart.

Rivet took a deep breath, then nodded down at his husband and said, “I’ll be okay, Sparkles. Y…” He felt his whole world slipping from his hooves, but he promised, “You can go. I’ll be okay.”

Fashion Plate smiled. “I believe you. And I’ll be waiting for you. But… Heh. No rush.”

“Heh.” Rivet grasped for words, but there were none.

Fashion Plate settled his head onto Rivet’s leg. He closed his eyes. He could only speak a few words at a time. “Last thing. I want… my final thoughts… to be happy.” Rivet felt some drool escape Fashion Plate’s mouth and roll down his leg. “Tell me your… absolute favorite story. And don’t… don’t skimp on the details.” He swallowed hard. “And keep going. They…” He let out a big breath. “They say I’ll… still have a few moments after it… after it all stops.”

Rivet shuddered. He saw the love of his life spread across his lap, and despite all the uncertainty, here was a pony that just wanted to relive the happiest day of his life. “Of course, darling.”

“Hm…” Fashion Plate’s shoulders relaxed. “I love you, Rivet.”

“I… I love you, too, Sparkles.”

Fashion Plate didn’t respond. Rivet could see his withers move with his breathing, but just barely.

Rivet straightened his back, wiped away tears, and looked out across the valley. The pair of ducks had waddled up to the shore and were huddled together for an afternoon nap. A small flock of songbirds had landed nearby, pecking at grass seeds and singing a simple, repetitive song, and a rabbit lazily hopped about, munching on wildflowers.

Rivet took a deep breath. “It was a Monday. Beginning of summer. You thought it was strange that I wanted us to take a day off just for a date. So, I made up an excuse about how we’d both finished big projects, and we deserved some time together. You were suspicious at first, but, heh, when I told you I’d already booked a couples massage, you were on board.”

Rivet instinctively petted his husband’s back. “It had to be that day, though. It was ten months to the day after our first Friday night together, and I wasn’t going to miss my chance. Ha! I was so, so nervous, honey. I tried to keep cool, but every time I looked at you, I thought–” He choked up and sobbed twice, but he quickly swallowed the pain and continued. “I thought, ‘Here’s the pony I want to marry, and today I get to find out if he wants me, too.’ I didn’t have any doubts, of course. I knew we were right for each other, and you knew it, too, but it was still so nerve-wracking.”

Rivet looked down. Fashion Plate continued breathing with his eyes closed.

Rivet shook his head. “And it all went smoothly, Sparkles. The matinee show off Bridleway, our picnic lunch, the massages, and that incredibly fancy dinner at The Stable… It was probably the smoothest day of my life. Heh. In some ways, I almost wanted something to go wrong, to cut the tension or to just make our perfect day last a little longer.”

He blinked, and a tear rolled off his face, landing on Fashion Plate’s back. “But the moment came. I got us a carriage ride to the park, right at twilight. I told you to get your camera ready, because there were so many sights to see. You told me that you’d already spent the day looking at the most gorgeous sight of all, and I almost buckled and let it slip right then and there.

“But we made it to the park. You had that big smile plastered on your face, the one that always let me know I had really found a way to excite you. We got out, and you looked everywhere. Except, of course, at the small box I snuck from my saddlebag into my pocket. You turned to me and asked, ‘Am I not seeing it? Ah, the suspense is incredible, love! Well done!’ And I asked, wasn’t it obvious? It was right by the fountain.”

Fashion Plate twitched once, then again. Rivet leaned forward and hugged him close.

“You… Y-you dashed over to it and nearly stuck your face in the water, camera ready. I thought I would get sick waiting for you to turn around. But you did. And there I was. Down on a knee, looking up at the most gorgeous stallion in the world, and I opened the box.”

Fashion Plate’s chest made a slight purring noise.

“Oh, Sparkles… That look you gave me. It was the deepest happiness I could imagine. It was a look I’ve only ever seen again once, on our wedding day, but you knew what was happening. You were completely stunned, so stunned that you were barely able to float your camera down safely. You held your hoof to your chest, right over your ascot, and you stood there, waiting for me.”

Rivet’s head rolled back, and he looked up into the branches of the tree. He sobbed. “S-sorry. I’ll keep going.” He took a deep breath. “I opened the box, and your eyes gleamed, a-and… oh, Sparkles, I babbled so much. I told you how I’d known from the moment I saw you at that construction site: this is the pony for me. How you are the most special pony in the world, the light of my life, how you bring joy and energy and light to every room you walk into. About how, as greedy as it was to want that light for myself, I couldn’t imagine living another day without you by my side. I…”

With a long, calm breath, Fashion Plate relaxed, and his body became still.

Rivet’s forelegs shook. His breaths came in unsteady bursts. He leaned down and kissed Fashion Plate’s mane, then sat back up.

“I promised I would make you happy, Sparkles.” His teeth chattered together, and he held Fashion Plate close. “I would do everything I could to give you a life full of joy and love and everything your heart desired. I-I… I said I just needed… I just needed one thing in return. And I asked if you… I asked if you would spend the rest of your life with me.”

Rivet braced for the pain to come crashing over him, but instead, he found himself overwhelmed with the last warmth of his husband, the joy of a lifetime of memories, and a love that he would carry with him for all time. And despite the tears rolling freely down his face, Rivet looked up at the gorgeous world in front of him. It was bright, and it was full of wonder, and it sparkled. Rivet breathed easily as a warm smile settled on his tear-streaked face. “And you said yes.”