Bonering: A Tale of Pony Passion
“Change your tie.”
“What?”
“I said, change your tie.”
“I wear this tie everyday!”
“And it shows. If it were only you, I’d say go ahead, but I won’t have Macintosh thinking my roommate uses his neckwear to wipe his flank.”
The gray Earth pony shot his accuser a disdainful look. “Flank?” Old Roots whipped the dirty tie from his neck in one smooth gesture, throwing it into the nearby hamper. “So we don’t say ‘bum’ now that we live in Ponyville?”
Netherlips scoffed, while continuing to fiddle with his forelock in the mirror. There was a perfect level of messiness that he always strived for. Too little, he felt like he looked boring. Too messy, and he looked like one of those homeless ponies that slept outside the Cloventry City Centre. Once that ideal medium was reached, he was a damn sexy unicorn. Hopefully sexy enough for Mac. “Be my guest with the colloquialisms, but your attempts to verbally police conversation best not extend to me and mine.”
“Tosser,” mumbled Old Roots, who smiled as he recognized that while this word might have changed definition in their new home, it was still quite accurate when describing his old friend, who had only recently changed his name from Tommy Trottington. He opened the second drawer in his wardrobe to reveal thirty identical red ties. He grabbed the fifth one (his second favorite) and tied it around his neck with a finesse that only comes after years of practice.
Despite his determination to shrug the comments off as the catty critique of a coltcuddler, Netherlips’ statement about his appearance rattled him. He checked himself in the mirror and found everything in order: brown mane kept properly short, with the fur on his jaw a little longer. He turned around a little and shook his rump in the direction of the mirror, his short tail swishing back and forth. “I’m sorry, Applejack, were you looking at my bu-” He stopped short, then corrected himself. “-my flank? ‘Cause there’s more where this came from!”
“And where might you be keeping it?” Old Roots turned to see the dark teal unicorn in the doorway of his room, a smug smile on his face. “Tear yourself away from the dashing stallion in the mirror. I want us to get there before they do.”
Prior to the Nightmare Moon incident, Ponyville’s reputation was as “a small town right outside of the Everfree Forest.” But in the wake of Princess Luna’s return, and the media blitz that accompanied it, more ponies began to take an interest in the little hamlet. It was by no means a bustling city, still not as built up as Cloudsdale, but the influx had seen a definite increase in the amount of businesses set up through town.
One of these was Thoroughbreds, which was a partnership between the proprietor of The Carriage House and a transplant from Stalliongrad. While the Carriage House offered gourmet ingredients, the atmosphere was still a very casual one, offering takes on simple fare like daisy sandwiches. Thoroughbreds was a step up, both in terms of atmosphere and price, and while the two Bitish roommates might have been patrons whenever their wallets felt fat, it wasn’t exactly geared towards farmers.
Applejack tipped her Stetson backwards to get a better look at the restaurants facade. “Ah don’t know about this, Macintosh. This is a little outside of mah...” the yellow mare thought for a second, “... comfort zone?”
“Eeyup,” responded the taciturn red stallion. Macintosh had to admit that he was having second thoughts himself. He thought back to last week and his visit to the pub. Normally, the place was relatively quiet, except for the clinking of glasses and the constant chatter from other patrons. Occasionally, there would be an act performing on a makeshift stage, but again, it was usually something fairly relaxed, like a local lyre player, or perhaps a young filly trying out some stand-up.
But that night, there had been a band, and what had come out was something else entirely. Once the dark teal unicorn had finished messing with the knobs on the board in front of him, and the music had actually begun, Macintosh felt suddenly old. Or maybe it was just because the bass was making him deaf.
After what he could only characterize as “an interesting performance”, the unicorn joined him at the bar. He ordered a pint of ale and turned to Macintosh. “So... how were we?”
Macintosh looked at the unicorn, then back at the stage, then back at the unicorn. “Ah don’t rightly know. Ah honestly don’t know what you were playing.”
The unicorn turned back to the bar, and took a sip from the head of his drink. “A little weird, huh?” He said, in an unfamiliar accent.
“Well, if yer tryin’ to play something nopony’s heard before, ah think yer doin’ just fine.”
The unicorn popped back up with a big smile on his face. “Thank you!” he said, beaming beneath a sudsy beer mustache. He thrust out his hoof. “The name’s Netherlips!”
The Earth pony chuckled and returned the favor. “Macintosh. You from around here, Netherlips?”
Their conversation had proceeded for several hours. They talked about Ponyville and how Netherlips was liking it compared to his homeland. They talked about music, and Macintosh shared some of the music he preferred, which Netherlips subconsciously winced at. They talked about their drinks, and soon got to talking about hard cider, which led to discussion of Mac’s work on Sweet Apple Acres, and his sister Applejack.
They both tried to talk about other mares, but neither was able to offer anything more complex than “Rarity looks... good.”
“Yes. So does Fluttershy.”
“Eeyup.”
It was around this time that the two of them began to realize that despite their animosity towards each other’s music, they were more similar than they thought. Netherlips had been almost instantly attracted to the tall, muscular stallion. Mac wore a mysterious veil that, when lifted, revealed a very down-to-earth but sensitive guy. Macintosh, not normally a fan of anything unfamiliar, found himself fascinated with the scruffy-looking unicorn, and the passion he had for his work was both impressive and strangely alluring.
They also realized that they had been staring at each other wordlessly. Netherlips was the first to break the silence. “So... um... would you like to go out to dinner sometime?”
Macintosh thought for a moment, then smiled. “Eeyup. When you thinkin’ bout?”
“Wednesday next week?”
Mac bit his lip. “Horseapples. Is there another time?”
Netherlips shook his head. “We’d have to wait until the week afterwards. What’s going on?”
The Earth pony sighed. “Wednesday’s are when ah spend time with Applejack. She won’t take kindly to reschedulin’.”
“So bring her along! My roommate could use a date too!”
“Ah dunno if she’d be interested...” Netherlips responded to Mac’s hesitation by swishing his tail, brushing up against the stallion’s cutie mark. The tip of his dark brown tail lightly tickled the fur over Mac’s flank, causing the pony’s face to flush, unnoticeable against his already bright red color. It was enough to make him reconsider. “We’ll give it a shot.”
They made further preparations later on in the week, as well as arranging a first meeting between Old Roots and Applejack. While he was originally rightfully dubious about Netherlips’ original intentions, his outlook improved upon seeing the mare he was to spend the night out with. He had seen Applejack before, but he’d never really noticed how cute she was. For once, his roommate had done right by him.
Applejack was pleased to meet Old Roots as well, though the initial announcement had come as a bit of a shock. Macintosh’s news that she had been wrangled into a double date resulted in a tongue lashing that left her brother with a splitting headache. But the idea gnawed at her, and eventually she found herself intrigued. When the attractive Earth pony came up to her apple stand during Market Day, they quickly struck up a lively conversation discussing topics beyond apples, most enthusiastically, the shortcomings of Netherlips and Macintosh. Old Roots left with a bag full of Galas, and they both felt better about the upcoming dinner.
“There they are!” Applejack’s voice calling out snapped Macintosh out of his flashback. Their dates had finally arrived. Macintosh couldn’t help but smile when he saw Netherlips, a gesture that was immediately returned.
“Sorry we’re late,” apologized Old Roots. “This one wanted to get his hair looking perfect.” He elbowed his friend in the ribs, producing an audible “oof”.
“I think you look mighty fine,” said Macintosh, nodding his head at the unicorn, who blushed, a big grin on his face. Inside his head, the red stallion thought to himself that perhaps Applejack and he had worried over nothing. There wouldn’t be any problems tonight.
The first sign of a problem came as the foursome walked into the restaurant. A check filly trotted up to the two Apple siblings and offered to take Macintosh’s yoke. He honestly wasn’t a big fan of removing his yoke except before bed and during showers. He felt kind of... naked... without it. Still, he understood the nature of the restaurant and wanted the night to go smoothly, so he nodded and slipped the yoke off of his neck. As the clerk carefully placed it on the neighboring counter, she asked his sister for her hat.
Applejack was less gracious.
“What in tarnation you want my hat fer?” She asked, loud enough for the majority of the patrons to hear. Netherlips suddenly saw them surrounded by eyes.
Despite being caught off guard by the outburst, the check filly swallowed and attempted to maintain her professional air. “Ma’am... it is our policy that nopony may wear hats inside the restaurant.”
“To hay with yer policy! This is mah daddy’s hat, and it don’t leave my head!” As Applejack began to stare down the check filly, prepared to throw down in defense of her headwear, Old Roots whispered something in the frightened employee’s ears and pressed a few bits into her hoof. Her expression of fear quickly became a pained smile, belied by the trembling in her voice.
“Very w-well, ma’am. That’s perfectly fine. D-don’t worry about it.”
Applejack responded by nodding and crossing her left foreleg with her right. An Apple Family victory. Old Roots sighed as the waiter emerged and led the three of them to their seats, with the yellow mare only catching up once she realized the rest of her party had gone ahead without her.
There were further complications upon ordering. Her business dealings with ponies all over Equestria had exposed Applejack to a number of different languages, and she could talk shop in most of them. Since her favorite food was apples, she felt confident in ordering for herself at a fancy restaurant. She knew the word “pommes” and was thus confident that her order of “pommes frites” would deliver her something resembling a gourmet platter of fried apples. While every other pony at the table received an exotic looking combination of ingredients, Applejack instead found herself facing a large pile of french fries. The waiter flashed her a look of disdain as he slammed the ketchup bottle onto the table. “For madame,” he said, his voice thick with disgust.
“Ah don’t think ah like this place,” she said, once the waiter was out of earshot.
Old Roots paused after a couple of bites of his salad. “What’s wrong?”
“Ah just feel out of place here,” she sighed, nudging her food with her nose. It looked good, but at the moment, she was too upset to eat. “Me and Big Macintosh were talkin’ bout it ‘fore you came.”
Netherlips looked over at Macintosh, who sat looking thoughtful over his plate of greens. Eventually, the stallion sighed. “You gotta understand that we’re farmers. We live simple, we like simple, and anything t’aint simple kinda throws us off.”
For almost a minute, the entire table was silent. Applejack looked at her plate, feeling unusually vulnerable. Netherlips and Macintosh looked at each other with sadness in their eyes. Old Roots looked between the three of them and his plate. The radicchio was getting warm. He slowly craned his neck down towards his meal. He closed his eyes. Opening his mouth, he delicately reached out with his teeth towards the red leaf. The crunch was satisfying, and Old Roots pulled the rest into his mouth and chewed happily. He swallowed and opened his eyes.
The look Applejack gave him made him momentarily choke on the tiny morsel. “Look... “ Old Roots said, once he had regained his composure, “I’m sorry that this is different than what you’re used to, but that’s part of life, right? Trying new things?”
Applejack’s expression softened. “Well, yeah, I guess, but... “
Old Roots reached out and placed his hoof on hers. “Things don’t always go as planned, Applejack. Its up to us to make the best of them and still enjoy ourselves.”
She smiled warmly. “Thank you, sugarcube.”
“You’re very welcome,” he said, smiling back. He chuckled a little. “After all, life would be pretty boring if it were nothing but apples, right?”
“What?” Applejack returned coldly, snatching her hoof away.
“Oh, bucking hay,” said Big Mac, under his breath, almost inaudible as Applejack tore into Old Roots about how important apples were to not just her well-being and the lives of her family, but as a prime staple in the kingdom’s economy. Apples were the foundation upon which Equestria was built! As his sister continued her diatribe, drawing more and more looks from curious parties, Macintosh stood up from the table. He leaned in to Netherlips’ ear. “Sorry to leave you with them, but I gotta take a leak mite quick.” The unicorn nodded, understanding, though not particularly keen to be left in this tense moment.
As the minutes passed, Netherlips hoped that the argument would subside, but by now Applejack had whipped herself into a flurry of righteous indignation. While the volume had subsided, the tone remained much the same, and he found himself the unwilling spectator of Old Roots’ lecture. By the time Netherlips had finished his meal, Macintosh had still not returned, and he began to feel particularly anxious. “I’ll be right back, guys,” he said, excusing himself, receiving a nod from Applejack (but no halt in her speech) and a pleading look from Old Roots.
Save an expertly groomed attendant, the bathroom was empty. To make matters worse, the attendant had not seen Macintosh.
“What are you talking about? He was just here!”
“Sir, I’m pretty sure I would recognize a large, bright red stallion. He wasn’t here. May I offer you a tissue?”
“What are you even - “ Netherlips was about to go off on the attendant for his bizarre request until he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Without even realizing it, he had started crying. He hustled out of the bathroom, and over to his table, where he left his and Macintosh’s part of the check in front of Old Roots. Despite his friend’s protests, he had to get out of there. At the very least, he needed some fresh air.
He was able to keep it together until he made it through the front door, but when the cool air struck the wet paths on his cheeks, he collapsed into sobs. Macintosh was gone, maybe for good, and it was his fault. “Stupid,” he said to himself. He was stupid for thinking he could impress a stallion like that. He wiped his eyes and sniffed, and instantly recoiled as his nostrils caught an unpleasant scent.
With a little listening for the sound of running liquid, he was able to find the source of the odor, which was coming from the sighing pony in the alley. “Sorry about that, partner,” came a familiar voice. “Nature calls, you know.”
“Macintosh?”
The red stallion stepped out of the darkness next to the restaurant, looking embarrassed. “Oh, hey, Netherlips. What are you doing out here?”
“Looking for you. Why didn’t you use the bathroom in there?”
He scratched the back of his mane with his hoof. “Indoor bathrooms are strange enough to me as it is. But a pony standing there while I’m doing my business? Just ain’t natural. So I grabbed my yoke from the filly out front and came out looking for an outhouse.”
Netherlips laughed. “I guess you noticed they don’t have one.”
“Eeyup.” Macintosh looked towards the restaurant. “Do we want to go back in there?”
The unicorn shook his head. “They’ve quieted down a little bit, but I’m done with that for the night.” He looked down at his hooves and kicked at the ground nervously before looking up. “So, did you want to wait for Applejack, or... “
Macintosh looked thoughtful for a moment, scrunched up his features, and then smiled. “I think we can go ahead and make our way back to the farm. You wanna tag along?”
Though he simply smiled and nodded, the unicorn’s heart did flips in his chest.
As he walked back home, Netherlips couldn’t shake the giddy feelings. He smiled as he thought about the long conversation on the way to Sweet Apple Acres. They joked with each other, they talked about how terribly the date had gone, and they laughed at how badly paired their companions had been.
Then Macintosh had kissed him. And any worries that were still left about the date melted completely away, along with thoughts about anything other than how wonderful it felt. There’s a cliche about a short kiss seeming to last forever, and to Netherlips it was nonsense. The kiss was too short, so he took another and another. Macintosh suggested that they retreat to the barn, so as not to wake Granny Smith or Apple Bloom.
Netherlips couldn’t help but blush thinking about what happened next. Cool, soft hay underneath him. Warm, strong Macintosh on top. Running his hooves through the light brown mane, and losing himself in a passion that he had periodically worried didn’t even exist anymore. At least not for him. Sometimes it was fantastic to be proved wrong.
He opened the door to the apartment he shared with Old Roots, and laughed as he caught a glimpse of himself in the hallway mirror. His mane was even more messy than usual, and there were still a few hay strands that had worked their way into his locks, presumably during a position change. He plucked them out with his magic and called out “I’m home!”
“Took you long enough,” came back the reply from Old Roots in the other room. “What happened?”
“Well... “ Netherlips paused for effect, unable to shake the happiness in his voice. “I got bucked!”
“Yeah?” came back the disinterested reply. “Me too.”
Netherlips immediately raised his brow. “Really? Because I was convinced the date wasn’t going that... “ he stopped as he stepped into the room and got a good look at his roommate. “Oh.”
“Yeah. OH.” The Earth pony looked up at the unicorn with a look of frustration with his one good eye. The other eye was swollen shut beneath a large purple shiner. “Great date, Netherlips. We’ll have to do it again sometime.”
the end.
