There's Something About White Mane...

Freaks And Geeks

“Goddess, you are sexy!”

White Mane blushed at the compliment, and with his left hoof gingerly brushed a few loose strands of his mane away from his eye. He batted his eyes -- invitingly -- at his suitor then gave a response.

“Oh?” He paused for a second to let the coy little compliment sink in. “Do go on...”

His suitor smiled cockily -- probably fueled by White Mane’s at this point less than subtle attraction to him -- then continued.

“You know you love it.” He grinned, “But, if it takes hearing it then it’s true; You are the sexiest, cutest and best looking colt on campus. Maybe even all of Equestria!”

His suitor was right on both accounts; White Mane did love being showered in praise. He lived for it. Thrived in it, and his suitor was certainly playing his cards right by feeding his addiction to it.

That, and he was also very much drop dead sexy...

Though it never hurt to be reminded.

At this point his normally gold face had turned a deep red. He broke eye contact -- knowingly -- to glance down at the floor. He knew where this was going and it would be damn near impossible for his suitor not to realize it also. Still, he wanted... needed to put up something resembling a fight, or else he ran the risk of coming off as slutty, and it went without saying that that couldn’t happen. He hadn’t abandoned an uncomfortable position as a Royal Guard (Well, ‘Royal Guard In Training’ on paper. But, who cared for semantics?), applied to a liberal arts college -- Camden -- and broken his family’s long standing tradition of military service, to earn a reputation as the ‘Colt on campus who’ll lift his tail for a stud with a winning smile.’

Even if that was where this was heading...

“Oh, please. I bet you say that to all the boys...”

His suitor stared hungrily back at him and something resembling a predatory smirk built on his face. The kind of look a Timberwolf got in it’s eyes before it made it’s kill, or, alternatively, a Colt Cuddler got when he realized he was most definitely going to be taking a pony home with him that night.

“Only the ones who are as sexy as you...”

*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*

White Mane, and his suitor, were both startled by the noise of a hoof beating thrice against the door. They took a pause for a brief second to regain their thoughts, drawn from the lustful haze that they’d been lost in, and stared at the source of the abrupt interruption.

“Dude... can you hurry up in there?” A quiet mumble came half muffled through the bathroom door. “I really have to take a pee...”

Piper!

It had to have been Piper. It was always Piper. Piper his roommate. Piper his best friend. Piper who had the most amazing ability to tarnish and destroy an almost perfect moment.

Ugh!

“Just give me a minute, Piper!” White Mane shouted back.

There came the sound of hooves pacing their way along the hallway outside the bathroom; Piper doing his ‘Wandering Bladder’ dance, which he was prone to do sometime after his third or fourth beer.

They -- Piper and White Mane -- had spent the last hour of their night in a hopeless pre-game for The Freaks and Geeks party at Brawny Brawlers’ place. Which was; Bel Air: frat house just a little ways off campus. Piper, being the more masculine -- yet sensibly so -- of the two was drinking Buckweiser, whereas White Mane -- The more adorably posh and uniquely pragmatic of the duo -- had been mixing diet ginger ale -- cutting calories where he could was what kept him so thin and good looking, after all -- and lemon flavoured Skynoff vodka.

That was the two of them: Piper and White Mane. Two total strangers assigned to live together for the better part of eight months -- or two semesters at Camden -- as freshmen. White Mane was the Earth pony with a delightfully attractive golden/white coat, his charming namesake pearl mane and downright angelic features -- A face that was destined for marble statues across Equestria and hips that could (and did) put fillies to shame.

Piper was also an Earth Pony -- though a Pinto -- with blobs of oak brown that broke the mould of his otherwise beige coloured coat. His body held a thin, but still athletic build, and he wore a wild pumpkin coloured mane. His face was thin and sharp, and he had the most alluring pair of teal eyes that White Mane had ever seen a colt (or filly for that matter) own in his entire life.

There was a history to their relationship as roommates, albeit a rather short one that bordered on cliche. During the first week of classes there had been an air of awkwardness between the two -- it was after all the first time either pony had left the comforts and security of home and lived on their own -- and neither knew quite how to approach the other sensibly. They were both wildly different in lifestyle choices; White Mane was a free spirit. He was boisterous, adventurous and easily excitable. He liked comic books, Waldorf salad, watching bad Kung-Hoof movies, and The Wonderbolts.

Piper, on the other hoof was generally shy around strangers, and also kind of an egghead. He read novels in anthologies. He listened to classical music when he studied. He liked junk food -- pizza, nachos and doughnuts -- and the only movies he tended to watch were strange silent films.

It was hard to adjust, for both of them, but after a few late night study sessions fueled by vodka (White Mane's choice), beer (Piper's choice) and laughter, they bonded over a few familiar interests; Sports. (Piper played professional frisbee in high school and White Mane found athletes sexy). Literature (Both roommates owned the collected works of O’Scar Wilde), and surprisingly, they both liked building pillow forts. So, one drunken attempt at turning their dorm room into ‘Fort Kickass (No Mares Allowed!)’ later, after the laughter died down and the R.A. gave them their first noise complaint, they realized that living together might not be all too bad.

That was them and that was their relationship. Now, Piper had a full bladder and was doing his best to ruin the mood.

And thanks a lot for that, Piper!

“Who are you talking to?” Piper’s voice begged. “I thought you were just going in there to get dressed for the party?”

White Mane groaned his response and shook his head. Piper wouldn’t/couldn’t/shouldn’t ever understand him and his ways. He could try and explain himself, but his reasoning and logic would just fall on deaf ears. There was no way Piper would ever find this normal.

“Wait... are you doing that thing where you flirt with yourself in the mirror to get all hyped up for a party?”

White Mane frowned, his lower lip quivered, slightly, and he turned to stare at the face of his suitor. In the mirror.

“No!”

Behind the door he heard Piper give a soft chuckle.

“Okay, okay, whatever, dude. Can I just come in?”

Piper didn’t wait for a response before he opened the door. With a proud grin and a mostly drunken step in his trot he entered the bathroom then stopped abruptly when his eyes fell on his roommate. Total and complete paralysis overtook him in that moment, his jaw slacked, then dropped, eyes bulged, brows lifted and his breathing even seemed to stop for a minute.

There, in front of him was White Mane sure as he’d expected, only he was dressed, well... like a mare.

Tight jeans -- something likely from the mares section of the Equestrian Apparel off campus -- hugged his feminine hips and gave his shapely flank a nice accentuation. His upper body -- torso to little past his waist -- was covered by a moss green hoodie (Also from the Equestrian Apparel Catalogue and also for mares) And, on his hooves -- all four of them -- he wore faux-furlined low cut boots.

Piper just stared open mouthed and shocked at his roommate.

White Mane smiled boastfully and, for a second time that evening, he flipped a lock of his mane out of his left eye and batted his eyes, this time at Piper.

“This works, right? He asked in a hushed tone. There was worry worn across his face, it mudled his features and made him seem almost depressed. “This look is okay?”

“It’s um...”

Piper was abnormally tongue tied, White Mane noted; Normally, he could openly discuss these types of things with Piper, and more often than that, he could even count on Piper’s hetero eye to help him with his outfit.

This was different, for some reason.

“Too much?” White Mane asked, again worried.

He stared at himself in the mirror and tried, desperately, to figure out which precise detail of his outfit it was that caused the panic in Piper. Was it the boots? It had to be the boots, right? Because most ponies didn’t wear them, so they must have looked ridiculously out of place on him. But, they were special and had a special purpose, so he was planning on wearing them anyway. Maybe it was the jeans? Ponies didn’t usually wear those either. Or, the hoodie?

Oh, Dukes; He probably looked absolutely ludicrous in this outfit!

“No!” Piper shouted, then paused and slapped a hoof to his cheek. “... I mean no. It’s just.... um....” Piper did a double take of his roommate. He really did look like a mare in those clothes -- and, not a bad looking mare at that, either -- “You look great! I mean... good... Um... yeah. You look very good in that outfit.”

White Mane squealed in delight and rushed towards Piper, tossing his front hooves around the colt’s neck and pulling him into a warm hug, nuzzling the other colt's head into his chest.

“Thanks, Piper!” He sing-songed. “You’re the best!”

Piper blushed.

“What’s up with the boots, though?”

Piper stared down at the offending footwear and White Mane felt a blush of his own build up on his face; they were kind of a stupid last minute addition, but there was a history to them and, if he and Piper weren’t such good roommates, best friends and platonic sleepover buddies (Because, sometimes White Mane got scared at night and liked to crawl into Piper’s bed for company. It wasn’t like it was hurting their relationship: White Mane was gay, but Piper was straight after all.) he wouldn't have told him their origin, but, well, Piper was all those things, and he felt comfortable enough to divulge secret information with his roommate.

“They’re my ‘Come fuck me’ boots!” He said cheerily, giving his front left hoof a dainty kick.

“They’re your... WHAT?”

White Mane felt a little ashamed at Piper’s wide eyed gaze; the shock that reflected from it and felt like his roommate was owed some kind of explanation.

“Well, I mean we’ve been going to school here for a while, Piper. And, I know you're kind of shy and everything, but don’t you want to experience Camden? Don't you want to meet somepony?” he enquired, giving Piper a pair of lost puppy eyes all encompassing orbs that reflected his roommate in their gaze. “Besides, Cosmarepoliton magazine said that 'One in five ponies meet their significant other at college.'.”

Piper’s face dropped a little, and looked like he was going to say something, but instead he just shook his head.

“Only you White Mane...”

White Mane just smiled up at his roommate, he glowed with a newfound pride in his outfit and the resolution that it didn’t make him look silly showed in his aura. He turned away from Piper, stared into the mirror and winked.

His ‘suitor’ winked back.

“Do hurry, Piper!” He called out as he trotted from the bathroom and towards the foldout couch, where he gracefully took a seat.

The sound of Piper’s urine slapping against the porcelain bowl of the toilet filled the room and White Mane fixed himself another drink: One part vodka and two parts diet Equestrian Dry. He squeezed a lemon wedge into the highball glass, then dropped the expended fruit slice in so that it sank past the ice and sat at the bottom.

Content, he took a sip of his drank and spoke again.

“I don’t want to be late...”

“We’re not going to be late, dude.” Piper’s voice echoed from the open bathroom door. “We’ve got plenty of time, and I kind of want to finish that six pack before we leave.”

White Mane took another sip and debated arguing with Piper. He recalled a piece in last month’s ‘Cosmarepolitan’, under the ‘Ten Do’s and Don't's To The Equestrian College Party’ that reflected his roommate’s logic, and he echoed the sage wisdom to his roommate

“Well, Cosmare also said being ‘fashionably late’ is really in right now. It makes you seem ‘Cool and relaxed.’.. I think.” White Mane called back. “So, I guess we have time.”

“That’s the spirit.” Piper chimed in from the bathroom. The toilet flushed obnoxiously loud, then the sink came to life and a few seconds later Piper flopped onto the couch and grabbed a fresh beer from what was left of his six pack. He cracked it open in a violent display of froth and liquid foam, then took a few long swigs from the can. He turned to his roommate, smiled softly and finished the beer.

“‘Come fuck me’ boots, hey?” he chuckled wiping a froth moustache clean off his muzzle.

“Yeah... come fuck me,” White Mane repeated, taking another sip from his drink. He paused for a moment, then gave Piper a desperate look and spoke again. “Piper, do you think there are going to be any... you know... gayer ponies at the party?”

White Mane was almost pleading for a ‘yes’ from Piper, and he felt obligated to answer accordingly. He leaned forward, cracked a fresh beer then smiled back at his roommate.

“Sure. Why not?”

He took a sip of beer.

“Really?!”

White Mane was unusually hyper, and Piper half suspected it was from the fact that he’d switched his Diet Ginger Ale for the regular, sugar heavy kind -- just a light hearted prank between roommates -- or, it could also have also come from a deep seated desire in White Mane to meet somepony who made him happy.

Either way the fact remained; White Mane was abnormally excited about tonight.

“Oh Piper,” White Mane sighed. “I just want to meet somepony, and be happy, and maybe if he’s the one we could get married, and then my dad will...”

Something about what White Mane was droning on about struck a chord with Piper, and, he began to feel resentment crawl up his spine. Not at White Mane. He could never resent his roommate. Ever. But, somehow listening to the other colt gloat about the joy his life could become after tonight, tussled his figurative feathers uncomfortably.

“Maybe we should hurry,” He interrupted to a curious look from White Mane, he shrugged it off and finished his beer. The feeling, whatever it was, subsided for the moment and he quickly cracked another beer open. “I mean... just in case we’re missing something good?”

White Mane nodded and finished his drink.

***

Half an hour after Piper and White Mane left their dorm room they were standing in the doorway of Bel Air. Before that Piper had finished the remainder of his six-pack and White Mane had finished three more Vodka/Ginger-Ales. Now both were quite drunk as they made their way through the doorway and into the ruckus that was The Freaks and Geeks Party.

The first thing that hit the two entering Bel Air was the noise; loud cymbal crashes, heavy bass drums beating to a tribal tune, record scratching and the booming voice of an angry Zebra screaming “It's Tricky!” pierced their ear drums.

The Freaks And Geeks Party was well under way.

They took a moment, in the confines of the doorway, to study and observe the crowd. Among the few dozen bodies that filled their vision, both roommates immediately spotted a variety of familiar faces; much of Camden’s party alumni were present and heavy into the debauchery.

Across from the doorway, leaning casually against one of the speakers was The Colt from Las Pegasus grinning behind a pair of Oatley shades, and watching a mare on the dance floor grind her body up against another mare and stroking his chin introspectively. Spotting White Mane spotting him, he snarled and White Mane quickly turned away.

No luck so far.

He kept observing. Studying the crowd and looking for Mr. Right. Or, at the very least 'Mr. Right for tonight'

Somewhere, near the corner of room and winning a game of beer pong -- using the oak dining table in the living room as his base of operations -- was The Handsome Dunce; An apple red coated unicorn with a jet black mane, handsome good looks and a curiously jagged horn attached directly in the middle of his forehead.

Paralysis hit White Mane when his eyes fell on the body of the colt who was playing opposite The Handsome Dunce. He stood a head taller than anypony present, with a body moulded to the peak of physical perfection and that handsome athlete grin he’d seen him wear in pictures printed in the Camden Inquirer after every game he’d won for the hoofball team, was a pony of great renown.

This was Brawny Brawler; The captain of the hoofball team. The colt who led The Camden Chariots to victory against The Coltlumbia Caraways two years ago. This was the colt who wore his Lettermane jacket -- the one with his name embroidered on the back above the numbers ‘49’ -- un ironically, and totally made it look natural. This was a colt who could have any mare on campus that he desired, and right now he was staring at White Mane with those soft gentle baby blues and winking.

If any other pony present was a Camden celebrity this was the definition of an ‘A-lister’. The fact that he was even acknowledging that White Mane existed in the same realm as him was more than enough to make the younger colt swoon. Suddenly, White Mane's legs were feeling kind of funny and it took a strength he didn’t know he had inside to keep standing.

During a break in the game, The Handsome Dunce spotted White Mane, then Piper and he grinned.

“Yo, Piper!” He shouted drawing his attention. White Mane felt tempted to ask how -- and why -- The Handsome Dunce knew his name seeing as how Piper was the shy one of the duo, and White Mane the social climber, but it seemed a moot point of interest; this was Camden after all.

“Dude, let’s double up? You and me versus Brawny and your roommate?”

Piper stared earnestly at White Mane, eagerly inviting the hesitant colt to join. But, White Mane’s mind had already been made. If playing a silly drinking game with silly drunk boys was going to get him even a hoofstep closer to Brawny Brawler there was no way he could say ‘No’.

Piper, perhaps sensing this, grinned back and the two of them headed towards the beer pong table.

White Mane noticed Brawny’s eyes follow him every step of the way, until he stood before him and extended a hoof towards him. Brawny smiled down at him, a gentle, calm and collected smile, and White Mane fought back a hard blush.

“I’m... White Mane.” he said in a quiet voice, just a few pitches above a whisper.

“Brawny.” he replied, taking the hoof and shaking it gently. He stared down, past White Mane’s face and surprisingly, at the hoofwear he wore and grinned. “I like your boots.”

White Mane bit his lower lip, and out of the corner of his eye saw Piper grin.

“Hey!” A loud voice shouted, forever shattering this perfect moment in time and space for White Mane. “You two girls can compare tampons later. Let’s get going already!”

“Just ignore, Jag.” Brawny said in reference to The Handsome Dunce. “He gets really cranky when it’s his time of the month.”

“Hardy-Har-Har.” Jag -- as it were -- groaned under his breath. “At least my girlfriend didn’t go down on half the hoofball team before I started seeing her. Course, I bet you both have that in common.”

Brawny huffed something under his breath, then turned his gaze to White Mane; there was a playful intensity in his eyes, and a grin on his face.

“How good are you at beer pong?” He asked. White Mane hesitated with his response; he’d, in all honesty, never played the game. He’d seen colts back home play it at house parties, and the rules were simple; two teams on two sides of a table set nine red dixie cups in a triangle -- four, three, two then one -- fill them with an ounce of beer and toss ping pong balls out of their mouths. If a ball lands in a cup that team drinks. If it doesn’t the ball goes to the other team.

Simple. Real simple.

“I’m... uh...” He didn’t want to lie, but, he also didn’t want to look like rubbish in the eyes of Brawny Brawler, so he did. “Pretty good. Yeah, I’m... I’m really good, actually.”

Brawny smiled--showing two rows of perfect teeth--and slapped a hoof to White Mane’s shoulder, startling him a little.

“Then, you’re gonna be our secret weapon.” He said, proudly, turning towards the table. White Mane followed.

“Whenever you girls are ready...” Jag grinned from across the way, beside him Piper practiced his best ‘War Face’, snarling teeth, his brow furrowed and a forced intensity in his eyes, but his inherent sweetness broke through though and almost made White Mane giggle. He looked like a foal trying to act like an adult.

White Mane was prepared to offer something back. A well thought out insult/taunt perhaps in the way of a ‘No! You’re a girl!’ or ‘Hey... shut up!’ when a white ping-pong ball whizzed past him; he watched it fly across the table, gracefully soaring the air, until it fell dead in a plastic solo cup -- the centre one -- and a hoof wrapped around his shoulder and pulled him tight into a warm, fuzzy chest.

Brawny was hugging him.

White Mane almost drooled.

“Dude, that was epic!” he heard Brawny roar above him, as he released the hold on the colt and threw his hooves into the air. “What do you think of that, Jag?”

White Mane sheepishly slunk away from Brawny, throwing the hood of the pullover sweater over his head, trying desperately to hide the flush in his face.

“Yeah, yeah...” Jag groaned. “Let’s see how your little girlfriend does.”

Brawny Brawler slid a white ping-pong ball on the table before White Mane, and gave him a friendly, encouraging smile. White Mane gripped the ball in his mouth, narrowed his eyes and tried to remember life advice his father had taught him years ago.

“If a stranger offers you something. Just. Say. No.”

That information hardly seemed relevant in this situation.

Regardless, puckering his lips around the silicone base, and pressing his tongue to the soft underside, he launched the ball to the best of his ability. Like when Brawny had done it a few seconds ago, the ball soared gracefully and landed in another cup -- furthest right and back -- and White Mane fought back a girlish squeal of pride, opting for a jig instead.

Brawny Brawler and White Mane: Two.

Piper and The Handsome Dunce: Zero.

Suck it, Piper!

He was startled for a second when Brawny raised a hoof to him -- he almost considered ducking back -- but then he realized it was just for a casual, friendly bro-hoof, he felt flattered that he’d earned one from Brawny and, met the extended hoof with his own.

Brawny smiled broadly.

“Dude,” Jag groaned, wiping a foam moustache off his mouth. “We’re gonna make a comeback.”

Piper was up to bat now. He grinned, his eyes narrowed when they met with White Mane’s and, there was something about the look -- maybe it was that he’d never seen Piper look so serious and determined in all the time they’d been friends or, maybe it was cause he winked, teasingly -- but before he knew it a white ping pong ball fell into a plastic cup with a quiet ‘Plop’.

Piper had scored on him.

That silly egghead!

This obviously meant war.

Brawny, Piper and Jag all stared at White Mane and he realized he -- not Brawny -- was meant to take this drink; which was a travesty because as long as he’d lived, White Mane had always hated beer. It was gross, tasted like gym socks and made him get a type of drunk he was uncomfortable being. Still, with Brawny staring down at him, he felt the need to impress.

Lifting the plastic cup daintily, he pinched his nose and fired back the gym-sock flavoured liquid. Swallowing it in one gulp.

He fought back an embarrassing wretch, furrowed a frown when he realized in the time it took for him to drink it, Jag; The Handsome Dunce, had fired, and scored, another shot on them and he was now recieving the same imploring stares from the other players to finish this beer too.

He sighed under his breath, lifted a second plastic cup of liquid fart and fired back another half beer.

***

The game lasted for too long and far too many beers. By the time one side had won the first game -- The Handsome Dunce and Piper -- no pony playing was sober, but, filled with an insatiable competitive edge that spurred a second game - -which Brawny and White Mane had won -- all four were now locked into the third which was the tie breaker.

Three cups left -- on both sides -- and it was Brawny and White Mane’s turn to throw, or more specifically, White Mane’s turn to throw. Narrowed eyes glaring at his target, the ball placed firmly in his mouth, he released it and when it sunk in the cup he felt pride on top of pride -- though that just as easily could have been the beer talking.

He felt a hoof slap his shoulder, lightly, then -- and maybe he was just imagining it -- but it almost felt like Brawny gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze after. Brawny’s warm body pressed into his, with the fur of his chest, and the material of his jacket, grinding against his body, as White Mane was again pulled into a hug.

White Mane blushed -- again -- when Brawny pulled away.

Brawny’s shot followed -- he missed -- Piper’s shot came after that -- he sunk it -- and Brawny swallowed back another cup of beer. When The Handsome Dunce shot, his ball missed, bounced off the table and landed somewhere behind White Mane.

As White Mane bent down to pick it up, he noticed himself stumble -- only slightly -- and, as he tried to find better footing on the floor, his flank shook in the air behind him. When he felt a hoof slap against his flank, he fell into a momentary paralysis. He bit his lower lip as hard as he could; his face felt on fire and he turned back to see Brawny Brawler grinning -- a stupid drunken grin -- and pulling his hoof back.

“Did you find the ball?” Brawny asked, super casual about the fact that he’d just pretty damn near spanked White Mane, in front of his roommate and The Handsome Dunce.

He said nothing as he gripped the ball in his mouth and dusted himself off. Ignoring whatever inside him told him that there was something up with Brawny (And that it might just be a more than friendship kind of thing, also), he lined up his shot. There was one cup left on the table, one ball left for their team and he’d be a sun of a biscuit if he was going to lose to Piper -- and The Handsome Dunce -- and let Brawny Brawler down.

Focus.

His eyes darting from the cup, to the leering eyes of the opposing team and past the tongues they wagged at him. (Brawny’s hooves gently massaging his shoulders and him whispering 'You've got this.' was a confidence booster) he fired. Sunk the ball past the rim of another red solo cup and couldn't fight the urge to shout his excitement.

And then it happened; Brawny Brawler hugged him again, only, this time it felt different. The hug was tighter than before and Brawny's hooves trailed slowly down his back and stopped when they found his flank. White Mane felt his face flush, then, he felt Brawny’s breath against his cheek. He almost wanted to say something, question it (It did seem a little forward even if Brawny was drunk) but in that moment he felt Brawny’s hooves grip his cheeks and White Mane gave a quiet--joyous--little squeak.

It could have been White Mane’s overactive imagination, but, if he didn’t know any better he could swear this was more than just a thing friends did with other friends, plus, the look on Brawny’s face -- a half drunk, half seductive little smirk and a glint in his eyes -- seemed like it helped sway the argument in his favor.

Still, Brawny was straight, so he must have been overthinking it. That, and, he had a girlfriend (Who, actually, White Mane had taken an Intro to Acting class with) and so, he was left utterly perplexed as Brawny broke off the hug and moved towards The Handsome Dunce and Piper, slapping them bro-hooves and laughing at a good game played. He did, however, turn his head to White Mane and give a sly wink -- which didn’t help the confused colt -- before the three friends disappeared into the crowd.

Drunk on Buckweiser beer, Skynoff vodka confused and with a full bladder, White Mane shook dirty, silly and comfortable ideas and presumptions from his head and set off to find a bathroom.

***

The downstairs bathroom was disgusting. Somepony had thrown up in the toilet and somehow overflown the thing, and some other inventive pony had decided that the sink would make a good replacement. It went without saying it was now un-operational and White Mane would have to find an alternative.

Fortunately, there was a second story bathroom, next to the rooms, that White Mane found in a bout of drunken exploration and, coming out of the bathroom now -- after double checking to make sure that his mane still looked as perfect as it did hours ago, and then making sure his face wasn’t too puffy or bloated from all the beer he'd been forced to drink -- he stared up to come face to chest with Brawny Brawler, who stood -- super casual -- against the wall, grinning down at White Mane.

“Hey,” He whispered, again, in some kind of almost seductive tone. "fancy seeing you here."

“I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry. But, the bathroom downstairs was plugged, and I didn't mean to invade anyone's private space, but I really had to pee and... you're not mad at me, are you?” He asked, hesitant and nervousness clear and present in his tone.

Brawny broke off the wall and moved towards him. His steps were slow and methodical in a way that made the feeble young colt back away slowly, until he felt the infinite distance behind him end and he was backed into a wall. Brawny no more than inches away from him.

“You know... you look really cute when you're nervous.” Brawny said, taking a pause to stare down at White Mane. “I think it's your smile.”

Brawny chuckled and he dipped his head towards White Mane. His lips brushed against the flesh of his ear and, in a quiet whisper, he uttered a phrase that could have brought White Mane to his knees.

“Wanna' fool around?”

White Mane stared in complete silent awe; there was no way that that meant anything other than how it sounded.

“But, you're not... ? I didn't know that you were... ? Are you... ?” he mumbled as he felt Brawny push closer into him. Brawny's muscular chest rubbed into White Mane, and he could feel the older, taller colt's breath brush the fur around his ear. Sending chills up his spine. “Gay?”

“Gay? No!” Brawny huffed, drawing his head back from White Mane. He looked revolted, and he sounded almost offended. “I just think you’re really sexy.”

Well, that made sense...

“… Wait, what?” was all White Mane managed to get out before he felt Brawny’s head move from his ear to his face, and a pair of big, powerful lips pressed hungrily against his. He felt Brawny wrap a hoof around his waist and pull his lithe, delicate body into his chest. At first, White Mane was startled -- more so caught off guard, really -- but soon he realized this was in fact everything he'd wanted, hoped, and prayed could happen between them tonight, and so he just moaned against the older colt's mouth, melting into his chest.

The kiss could have lasted for hours, at least, that's what it felt like to White Mane, but, before he was good and ready for it to end, Brawny Brawler's lips broke off from his own. This left White Mane dazed, confused and, when he finally found the strength to open his eyes, Brawny was smiling down at him.

"Wanna see my room?" he asked with a chuckle. White Mane, his face nuzzled into the older colt's chest, just hummed a 'Mmhmm' in response.

White Mane sat alone on a futon and studied his surroundings; Brawny Brawler’s room at Bel Air had a certain charm to it that spoke volumes of him and his personality. Everything in the room was utterly captivating; framed movie posters, gleaming trophies, a bookshelf filled with more than just comic books and required course material; Brawny Brawler was more than just a jock. He was an actual pony. Just like White Mane.

He felt himself become drawn out of his interpersonal studying of Brawny Brawler’s character when he heard the door to the room shut. He couldn't see Brawny, but, the lights in the room dimmed to a golden glimmer, and a short second of hooves shuffling later, he heard the opening notes to 'Blue Sky by 'The Allmane Brothers Band' sing softly through the speakers that surrounded him.

The anticipation of whatever came next was starting to drive White Mane absolutely wild.

Then, Brawny Brawler appeared in front of him. In the low-cast glow of the lamp, his features looked more romantic and enticing. He was grinning, staring at White Mane and White Mane felt some kind palpitation in his heart when Brawny winked at him.

"Can I get you a drink?" He asked and moved towards the mini fridge by the dresser. "I think my girlfriend left a few Skynoff Ices here? I've also got wine, or...."

For all intents and purposes, White Mane felt he had to impress Brawny. By his logic, Brawny had picked him out of a crowd that included pretty mares, and, he desperately wanted to make Brawny realize he'd made the right choice. Personally, if he'd had to choose his beverage of the night himself, he'd have easily taken the Skynoff Ice, or the wine, but, he needed to seem non-challant in front of Brawny and so went with the third option.

"I'll have... an... um..." What would Piper drink? "... a Buckweiser."

Brawny flashed that handsome, rugged, grin again as he grabbed two fresh beers out of the fridge. He moved, slowly, and tauntingly, towards the couch and the table infront of it, before he plopped on the couch beside him.

White Mane tried to control the rising heat in his cheeks as he stared into the eyes of Brawny Brawler; round, soft and gentle globes of auburn met his and he could barely conceal his glee. If Brawny Brawler was inviting him to his room -- which he had -- and offering him a drink -- which he also had -- it didn't take a Lunar scientist to imagine what came next, all he had to wonder was which one of the two of them was going to make the first move.

Fortunately, Brawny Brawler stepped up to the plate. He slipped a hoof over White Mane's shoulder; it was done so casually and with a practiced smoothness that White Mane could do nothing but ease into the touch. He cradled his head against Brawny's muscular shoulder and nuzzled his face against his chest.

He could live here forever.

Brawny eventually finished his beer and put the empty can on the table with his left hoof--With the other still around White Mane's shoulder. When he released his grip on the empty beer can, he brought his now free hoof to White Mane's face and touched it gently against his cheek, tilting White Mane's face to meet his. The two colts locked eyes for a second, then Brawny lowered his face to White Mane's and again pressed his lips against his in a soft, sensual, kiss that was as much romantic as it was exciting.

The kiss grew more frantic as White Mane and Brawny grew more comfortable. White Mane, inexperienced as he was, was certainly not apposed to trying to take the reins from Brawny, and bit hard on his lower lip which the older colt seemed to love. The next thing he knew, Brawny was pushing him -- with White Mane still clamping his lower lip in his teeth -- down into the futon and straddling himself overtop of White Mane's.

Brawny, again, broke the kiss to a disapointed White Mane, though, this time Brawny looked like he had a profound thought so White Mane didn't mind nearly as much.

"You know, when I saw you walk in, wearing those sexy boots... I thought you were the prettiest mare in the whole room." He spoke, his voice just barely above a gentle whisper. White Mane was confused, but, said nothing. "But, now that I can see you're not, I'm not really upset about it either..."

Brawny was grinding his chest into White Mane's now, who was writhing in pleasure underneath him. Brawny adjusted his position so that his thighs rubbed against White Mane's and his front hooves met against the side of his head. Brawny leaned his face down, so that his calloused lips were mere inches away from White Mane's eagerly awaiting own.

"I'm glad you're not a mare..." He purred as he tauntingly brushed his lips against White Mane's. "Because, I'm kind of going through a 'phase' where all I want to do is just fuck a cute little colt like you."

White Mane felt his nether rejoin express it's comfort with the situation; he could feel himself grow against the tight fabric of his jeans. They'd cost a small fortune, but, the softness of the interior that tickled his growing rod and sent a joyful pulse through his body made them so worth it. His body--his dick especially--was aching for some kind of release from the tension so badly that it took everything in his power to not scream "JUST FUCK ME ALREADY!" at Brawny. Even if that's what he wanted.

It seemed like Brawny could sense his excitement because the next thing he knew he was kissing him again. It was that same hungry, excited kiss. The kind that White Mane had waited his entire life to receive from another stallion and now that it was happening, all he could think to do was open his mouth and invite Brawny Brawler inside. Which the older colt did without any hesitation.

The feel of Brawny's wet, moist tongue slide along his own was something White Mane didn't think he'd ever expected to be this amazing and not long after, Brawny began exploring his mouth. He brushed against White Mane's molars, licked the top of his mouth, then began wrestling with White Mane's own eager and awaiting tongue. Excited and intrepid, the younger lover felt a surge of something resembling lust overtake his body and he wrapped his hooves tight around Brawny's waist, pulling the athletic stallion's body deeper, clinging madly to him. He closed his eyes and let Brawny's tongue continue to explore his mouth, fighting back a low and guttural moan.

Adventurous hooves ran down his waist until they found his tight and supple bottom--for what he realized was the second time that night--and, again, White Mane gave a half pant/half moan into the mouth of Brawny Brawler when he felt him pinch the flesh of his flank playfully. Inticed by the noises of his younger lover, Brawny started humping his crotch, and his own engorged and erect member, against White Mane. He could feel the inches of warm flesh as they continuously slapped against his thigh and for the record, Brawny was certainly not dissapointing as far as length or thickness were concerned. Just as White Mane was lost in the passion, Brawny, again, broke another kiss. His body shot upright, his hooves gripped his Lettermane jacket and he tore it off. He pressed a single hoof to White Mane's chest, found the zipper of his hoodie and tugged it down desperately.

White Mane was certainly not going to fight having Brawny Brawler undress him.

His chest now as naked and exposed as Brawny's was, he was pulled into an upright sitting position and felt a hoof crawl up his spine, past his neck then stopped at the tip of White Mane's cranium. Brawny brushed that same hoof through his mane, making him shudder and purr. Then, not so subtly implying he wanted/needed White Mane to go further, he spread his legs so that his stark erection stood at full attention.

It was quite a sight to see--as apposed to feel pressed against his rear--Brawny's stiff and hard prick was a truly monumental organ to be proud of; a thick, veiny and twitching obelisk of sleek black flesh that loomed like some kind of tower in the centre of his lap.

Brawny was still staring at him, silently urging him to do something with this recent development, and, White Mane, drunk on lust and Buckweiser, felt himself dip his face, muzzle, and mouth towards Brawny's cock.

A nervous chill overtook him as his face drew closer to Brawny's stallionhood. This was, well, this was the first time he'd ever been this forward with a stallion before, and, he wasn't exactly sure how to proceed from here. He'd read enough articles in Cosmare to know what he was expected to do, and he felt confident that the tips from last month's '10 tricks to giving your partner better oral.' article would come in handy now. He stared up at Brawny, giving him his best 'Let me please you, daddy.' look -- his eyes half lidded, seductively, with that just right amount of playful gleam to them to let Brawny know that White Mane wanted this as much as he did. He pushed his tongue through his open lips so that it hung loose down, and decided to let Brawny take it from there.

Brawny with a thick patch of White Mane's mane gripped in his hoof, slowly guided the eager young colt towards his cock. Before he could taste it, White Mane could already smell the musk -- a powerfully exciting mix of sweat and upscale cologne -- that made his mouth water in anticipation. Each second he felt Brawny move him closer, his lips got a little wetter and the blackened flesh grew larger, until, it stood directly before him, and White Mane realized he had to take charge.

Tip #1: Start by teasing your partner's length.

White Mane did just that, his hoof gently gripped the base of Brawny's member, and he felt it give a cute little twitch in response. He touched his tongue to Brawny's length, and slowly, tauntalizingly, licked his way along the underside of his penis, slathering the flesh with his saliva, and savouring Brawny's flavour. He tasted funny, and not at all like he'd expected; he was salty, warm and had a weird sort of aftertaste a little bit like alfalfa.

White Mane's tongue found itself at the end of the slow and purposefully taunting journey. Staring into Brawny's eyes, with a lust heavy grin on his face, White Mane swallowed his engorged head in a gentle kiss.

Above him, Brawny seemed like he couldn't be enjoying this anymore if he wanted to. He threw his head back when White Mane ran his tongue across the slit of his stallionhood and drawled out a heavy, lustful groan when White Mane started to ascend his length.

For his first time, White Mane was revelling in the knowledge that he was giving Brawny Brawler a blow-job to remember. As he slid his mouth slowly down Brawny's length, he lashed his tongue along the underside and savoured hearing Brawny pant and moan his name in those low, throaty and broken growls. It made him feel like a slut; a sexy, cute and adorable slut who could make a colt with a questionable sexuality moan his name as he gave him amazing head.

Nothing could ruin this moment.

He was half way down Brawny's length when he felt resistance; he'd managed to take as much of Brawny as he could in his mouth, and, drawing his eyes from the visage of the colt who he was pleasing above him and staring downwards, he realized he'd only taken less than half of Brawny into his mouth. This made him uncomfortable.

Tip #2: Pleasing your partner may make you uncomfortable. Practice first with a toy (Or a phallic shaped fruit) and learn to expand your throat to accommodate your partner's girth.

With that in mind, he swallowed a lump in his throat, inhaled a sharp breath through his nose and opened his windpipe as best as he could, continuing to slide Brawny's cock down his throat. The invasion of the thick meat of Brawny Brawler as it worked it's way down his throat made him feel uncomfortable at first, but, he tried his best to remember the third tip...

Tip #3: Breath slow and steadily through your nose. If you're uncomfortable at first, with (or without) practice, eventually your throat will adjust to his size.

This little tidbit of information would have served him just fine if Brawny Brawler hadn't decided that, that moment was the perfect time to steal control away from White Mane. The hoof gripping the back of his head suddenly began forcing the younger colt's mouth down; faster and harder, and at the same time, Brawny decided to started humping himself into White Mane's mouth.

White Mane felt like he were choking. He tried, at first, to keep up his illusion of comfort with the situation but, eventually, he decided to let Brawny know that he was being a proper ass about this; Glaring up at Brawny, he tried to batt the hoof gripping his mane away, but was met with resistance and the visage of Brawny just grinning; a stupid, cocky, conceited grin as he forced White Mane down his cock faster.

What a fucking asshole!

A sudden development happened in White Mane that would change the course of the night. It could have been from having Brawny Brawler face-fuck him. It could have been his resentment about having a colt whom he'd assumed a closet romantic actually show his true colours, or, it could have been the staunch mix of beer, Vodka and Ginger-Ale that were waging war in his stomach, but, one way or another, an uncomfortable rumble coursed through his stomach, and White Mane, filled with dread, tried to fight what he knew was coming next.

"Oh... f-f-fuck, dude..." Brawny moaned above him.

White Mane could feel Brawny's cock twitch and jerk in his mouth and half way down his throat and the vibrations that came with it shook his jaw a little. Inexperienced as he was in the fine art of oral sex, he also knew what this was gearing towards and not a half a minute later he practically wretched when he felt Brawny spurt his love seed down his throat.

There were a short and quiet few minutes that followed before Brawny pulled White Mane's head from his shrinking prick and White Mane felt the war raging in his stomach be won by one side. Still with his head nuzzled in Brawny's lap, he turned his eyes upwards and with mournful look into Brawny's eyes, he upchucked a mix of bile, half digested beer, vodka, soda and fresh semen against Brawny's chest and into his lap.

"Dude..." Brawny groaned, staring down at his lap, his chest, then into White Mane's eyes. White Mane, devoid of any emotion, wiped a hoof across his mouth, swallowed hard then, staring at the closed door that led to the hallway, prepared his next move.

Sympathetically, and with a quiet "...Sorry..." mumbled under his breath, White Mane broke his eye contact with Brawny, and nervous and quiet, backed himself away from the silently perplexed and speechless Jock on the couch with vomit staining his coat, and towards the door. When he felt his bottom press against the door, he gripped the handle, tore the door open and bolted as fast as he could through the hall, down the stairs and scanned the crowd for Piper.

When he found Piper he was in a crowd of colts and mares cheering on Au Revoir -- the kind of cute pony with the very sexy and exotic accent -- as he fired back shot glasses of what looked like vodka from the backside of some mare's flank. If the night had gone any differently, White Mane would have actually stayed to enjoy the show (While subconciously wishing it was his flank that Au Revoir would press his lips against while taking shot glasses in his mouth) but, then he remembered that somewhere upstairs was a closeted jock with a pile of his vomit in his lap who when he recovered probably would seek some kind of violent retribution from White Mane, and so he grabbed Piper by the shoulder and dragged him away from the crowd, out the front door of Bel Air and back towards his dorm room.

***

"So, um... Do you want to... talk about it?" Piper asked.

He lay, with his legs crossed and his head rested on a pillow and stared curiously at his roommate, who had his face buried into one of his pillows with another pulled tight over the back of his head.

It was now an hour since they'd left the Freaks and Geeks party and White Mane, after entering their dorm room, had crawled into his bed and hidden himself as best as he could in the tangled mess of bedsheets and pillows. Piper, worred about him but he hadn't said two words about what had transpired and he didn't exactly want to push his roommate into telling him if he didn't have to.

"I... I can't ever show my face on campus again!" came White Mane's muffled response. "Brawny...will kill me! He's going to kill me, Piper! I can't believe I did that to him! Ugh, I'm so stupid!"

There was so much hurt in White Mane's voice that it cut deep into Piper. He wanted, well, he wanted to reassure his roommate that whatever happened between them wasn't that bad, and that Brawny was probably a kind enough pony to live and forgive. Curiously, he also found himself wanting to give his roommate a hug as well.

"What happened?" He asked. White Mane's head popped out of the pillow hole he'd buried it in and Piper's heart sank when he stared into his roommate's tearstreaked face and bloodshot eyes. His lower lip was quivering and, Piper, found himself getting up, trotting to his bed and wrapping White Mane into a friendly, comforting hug. White Mane buried his face in Piper's chest and nuzzled his head against the soft fur. Piper felt heat rise to his face.

"Promise you won't be mad, Piper?" He mumbled against his chest. "Please, promise you won't hate me if I tell you?"

There was so much desperation and such a strong desire for understanding in White Mane's voice that he knew, no matter what he said he couldn't bring himself to think any less of his roommate.

"I promise, White Mane." He responded, hugging his roommate a little tighter.

White Mane unstuck his face from Piper's chest, sniffed, swallowed and stared up at Piper, cracking a soft facsimile.

"I... um.... Well, we started making out when we he found me upstairs, and, he was like, really, really, really good at it. Then, well, we um...I kind of, maybe, just a little bit, um... went down on him." White Mane sniffed. "And... Oh, Piper! I threw up in his lap! I couldn't help it! He was too big! And, now he's going to hate me forever! And he's going to tell everypony that I did it! And they're all going to think I'm a slut! And... Piper are you mad at me?"

Piper couldn't describe how he felt in that moment if he'd had to write a thesis on it; his roommate; the innocent, carefree, fun loving, extra adorable colt had given a jock -- who as far as anypony knew was both straight and in a relationship with a mare -- a blow job. The semantics (Throwing up in his lap) were all secondary to the fact that White Mane just admitted to giving a pony head.

Something inside him stirred and he felt absolute resentment for Brawny Brawler, he wanted to punch him in the face the next time he saw him. How dare that asshole, closet case, asshole, jerkface take advantage of White Mane! That disgusting animal! White Mane was innocent, and pure, and sweet, and adorable and cute, and... Whoa, when did his cheeks become so hot?

White Mane kept nuzzling his face against his chest and Piper felt the heat in his face continue to grow. Suddenly , all the anger he had started to melt away as White Mane wrapped both his hooves around his waist and squeezed him tight.

"Can I sleep in your bed, Piper?" he asked, staring up at him with the cutest, most pleading look in his eyes that Piper had ever seen. "We can sleep back to back, or hoof to face. I just... I really don't want to sleep alone tonight."

"Um..." Don't say yes. Don't say yes. Don't say yes. "Yes?"

White Mane gave a delighted squeal against Piper's chest and his hooves tightened around his waist, he nuzzled, harder and faster, against his chest and gave a contended purr Piper could feel vibrate against him.

Uh oh.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" White Mane chirped and broke away from the hug. He got off the bed and pranced (Literally 'pranced') to Piper's bed where he pulled the covers up, leapt underneath them and curled his body into a tight ball facing away from Piper, who, hesitantly crawled into the bed beside him.

***

It wasn't very long after the two had cuddled into bed together, that White Mane had fallen asleep and left a confused, anxious and nervous Piper awake with his mind racing. He stared down at the colt beside him and wondered why he felt the way he did about him in that moment. Surely it wasn't completely irrational for two best friends to share this kind of platonic bond, right? Just because one best friend cared deeply and intimately about the other one, and really enjoyed sharing his bed with him, didn't mean he had a crush on him. That was just silly. He certainly, definitely, positively, 100%, didn't find the colt in bed beside him stunningly attractive and absolutely adorable, his face nuzzled in his hoof and smiling softly.

He grumbled and tried to lay back when White Mane gave an absentminded yawn and his hooves rose in the air for a short second, before falling on his chest and he pulled his body to Piper's, nesting his head on the other colt's chest and smiling in his sleep. Piper bit his lower lip hard and tried to ignore the mental images of the golden coated colt beside him that his mind threw at him, which got harder as White Mane sleepily tossed his leg around Piper's waist and slipped himself a little further into the embrace.

"Mmmm, hey Piper?" He burbled sleepily. "Your hoof is kinda poking my tummy."

Piper almost gnawed his lower lip off with the embarrassment knowledge that it wasn't a hoof prodding into White Mane's stomach at all.

Something told Piper this wasn't going to end well.