Young Equestrians

It was a cold autumn morning, mid semester and on a Saturday when the wind that came in from the north was strong enough to shake yellow and red leaves from trees and still not be bothersome. Today that same wind blew into the opened plexiglass window of a two story house painted a charming auburn hue. Wind ruffled the purple velvet drapes and blew them open just enough for rays of light sunlight to break through the cracks and shine into the room.

When sunlight struck the face of a sleeping colt, baby blue eyes blinked awake.

Honey Drop greeted the morning like he did every other thing in life; with restrained enthusiasm. There was a warmth to his body, despite the breeze, and it occured to him that he shared this warmth with a colt who had joined himself with him; a hoof was thrown overtop his chest, and a sleeping face was snoring into his neck.

Pride and joy were worn across his face in a broad smile as he looked down at the still sleeping body who had decided to use him for a pillow. This was, until he noticed a dampness in his coat and an incriminating trail of saliva that led back to the bright pink tongue that hung out of his boyfriend's mouth.

The fact that Sunny Side drooled in his sleep was something Honey Drop hadn’t come to consider an attractive quirk to dating Sunny Side.

Most colts might have found it offputting to find their fur being used as a sponge, but Honey Drop wasn’t most colts. Drooling or not, Sunny Side clinging onto him was more than ‘most colts’ got to wake up to in the morning and Honey Drop was a colt who always counted his blessings.

Still, it was morning, and a quick glance at the digital alarm clock told him it was time to start his day. He wiggled his hoof from underneath Sunny Side, and in doing so, woke him up.

“Good morning,” Said Sunny Side.

The vibrations of his words tickled his belly.

“Morning.” Honey Drop replied back. He dropped his head to meet Sunny Side’s and a grin spread up his lips before he spoke again, “You’ve got a little something on your chin.”

Suny Side’s eyes went wide in shock and one of his meringue coloured hooves wiped the offending liquid from his lips and chin, and then on to the silk/satin sheets.

“How very uncouth.” smirked Honey Drop.

Sunny Side’s eyes rolled in his head. He leaned his face forwards and kissed Honey Drop on the chin. He pulled back at the same time Honey Drop purred.

“Oh, don’t be such a brute.” Sunny Side stated, batting his right hoof against Honey Drop’s cheek. “It’s too early to be my usual, charming, self.”

Honey Drop huffed a chuckle. Sunny Side started to lift himself up off of Honey Drop’s chest, but got caught in transition when Honey Drop kissed an apology onto his pursed lips.

“You should brush your teeth.” Sunny Side suggested, “Your breath still tastes like merlot.”

Honey Drop blew into a closed hoof and sniffed what his lover had tasted. He caught a whiff of last night’s bottle of Beaute Winged mixed with hints of an aged gouda. As a couple -- and in that respect also young adults -- both colts had decided early in their relationship to add a little culture into their lives. Now, on every second and fourth friday night of every month that they had been a couple living together under the same roof, after taking part in 'Stir-Friday', they engaged in ‘Wine and Cheese’ night. A celebration of the finer things. Last night Sunny Side had chosen an imported Gryphon wine suggested by Vincent, while Honey Drop had picked up a rather expensive wheel of gouda from a shop in Barstow.

“Hmm,” Honey Drop mumbled to himself. He mulled over his options, on the one hoof he had hardly a strong desire to separate himself from the bed and his lover, on the other, it didn’t exactly strike him as desirable for either of them for him to continue to neck with Sunny Side while his breath stank.

The result of his slight mental struggle that morning saw him rise out of bed. He made a move towards the window then tore open the purple velvet drapes. Sunlight, golden gleams of an early morning sunrise, greeted them and cast a mystical glow over bodies and objects alike.

Honey Drop turned back to face Sunny Side and had to pause. He lay on his back in the bthe covers pulled to his waist. He was staring back at him and smiling. Whether it was something in his smile, a twinkle in his eyes, or the way the sun painted his body, Honey Drop found an urge in him to do something spontaneous.

He dashed back towards the bed and when he stood at the base, he lowered himself onto the sheets and crawled up to Sunny Side. He kissed the surprised colt on the mouth and wrapped hooves around his frame, pulling his body to him. Sunny Side kissed back, his own hooves roamed across Honey Drop's spine and before either knew it they were rolling over top each other on the bed. This, the passionate, loving embrace that they held, carried on for several minutes; all the while hungry mouths continued to crash together and wild hooves travelled up and down their back and sides.

As they rolled and tumbled, neither colt seemed aware that they were slowly veering closer to the edge of the bed, and both were just as shocked when they reached it the momentum launched them both over side.

Their fall to the ground was less than graceful and shattered their loving embrace. Regardless, Sunny Side, laying flat on his back beside Honey Drop, who lay on his side, traced a hoof teasingly up the side of his leg and tilted his head to face him. Leaned his face forwards, Sunny Side planted his lips softly on Honey Drop’s wet nose.

“Where did that come from?”

“Dunno,” Honey Drop panted, catching his breath but never breaking his dazed smile, "But it felt right."

Sunny Side felt his mane, then his chest, and realized a dampness from sweat had hit him. Honey Drop too was sweating.

“Shower?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow invitingly towards Honey Drop.

The other colt grinned then nodded.

***

Showering was a joyful event for Sunny Side and Honey Drop. Despite the ideas that two colts who loved each other being locked into a glass cage and made to get soaking wet might bring to mind, showering together was far less sexual for them and much more sensual.

There were spots that Sunny Side said he just couldn’t reach on his back, and that only Honey Drop could. In the same breath, Honey Drop wouldn’t ever grow tired of the feeling of Sunny Side massaging shampoo into his mane.

Today, while lukewarm tap water beat against their backs, Honey Drop leaned against Sunny Side’s back and kissed the tips of his ears, revelling in the sounds that Sunny Side made and how they echoed against the glass.

“Wait,” Sunny Side gasped.

Honey Drop kept kissing the back of his ears, his hooves roamed down to his waist and he pushed himself up against the other’s bottom.

“Hmm?”

Sunny Side turned back to him and gave a soft, sad, smile. He pulled himself away from Honey Drop.

“I was just thinking,” he said, “About Piper and White Mane.”

Honey Drop’s sigh echoed against the marble walls of the shower.

“I thought we said we agreed that the shower was a no conflict zone?”

Sunny Side smiled softly up at his boyfriend.

“I know, I know,” Sunny Side cood, “But, I can’t stop thinking about them.” He sighed something that sounded pained and echoed in the shower. “They’re so good for eachother.”

“Sunny, darling,” Honey Drop grunted. “You promised you wouldn’t worry too much about it.” He leaned his weight onto his right side and lifted his left hoof to stroke Sunny Side’s wet cheek. “They’ll figure it out on their own.”

“Yeah…” He said, “It’s just… Piper could be so good for White Mane. And, White Mane, he could be so happy with Piper...” Water beat against his back and he sighed. “Besides, how absolutely adorable would a double date with them be?”

Honey Drop didn’t answer. Instead, he tilted the colt’s face towards him, he leaned in for a peck on his lips when Sunny Side’s eyes widened and he suddenly stood upright and proper.

“Sorry,” He said, turning away from Honey Drop and pushing open the glass door. “I really have to pee.”

“Oh…”

Honey Drop showered cold and alone after that, and when he came out, Sunny Side was toweling himself dry in front of the mirror. He was pressing his right hoof into the fur of his stomach. His face looked pained. Anguished. When he heard his boyfriend approach from behind he turned to face him.

“Hun,” He said. “Am I getting pudgy?”

Honey Drop walked towards him and kissed him on the cheek. He wrapped his hooves around his waist, and like Sunny Side had done, squeezed his stomach.

“You’re crazy.” He whispered in his ear, “If you’re anything, you are too thin.”

Sunny Side stared himself in the mirror. His hooves cupped Honey Drop’s and he pressed them into his lack of a belly.

He grinned at his reflection, then winked.

“You think?”

Honey Drop nodded.

Sunny Side pulled his hooves from his tummy and grinned at his reflection in the mirror.

“Yeah,” He said, still grinning. “I do look good, don’t I?”

“That’s what taking the stairs to class instead of the elevators will getcha.” Honey Drop chuckled.

Sunny Side moved himself away from the mirror. “Mhmm.” He agreed, while shaking a hoof through his heavily pampered mane.

***

They sat at the same oak cut dining table as they did each and every morning. Honey Drop, and then Sunny Side, both seated decidedly beside one another, and both picking and choosing from the breakfast/brunch that Honey Drop had prepared just a half hour before.

“I was thinking about bringing snacks to the auditions today,” Sunny Side stated, smiling towards Honey Drop. “I know Ziggy wants everyone to run lines, but, it’s a chore to do scenes on an empty stomach no matter who you are.”

“I can’t speak for Ziggy,” Honey Drop said, “But I’ve got your back if she decides to throw down.”

Sunny Side poked his tongue through his pursed lips and Honey Drop chuckled.

“I could take her,” He boasted. His chest puffed out and he flexed; the muscles in his upper legs sprang to life, pulsed, then deflated. “I have male privilege.”

“I don’t know…” Honey Drop mulled, “I’ve seen her chew out an understudy for messing up past and present tense during a rehearsal once.”

Sunny Side grinned.

“Poor, Cobalt,” He said, “Though, any colt who can’t memorize his lines three weeks before curtain really does have it coming to him.”

Honey Drop nodded in agreement.

“Babe,” he said, “Can you get the mail?”

“Why, of course I can.” Sunny Side stood up in his seat “I wouldn’t want you to exert yourself this early in the morning.”

Honey Drop faked a laugh, a mockingly obnoxious three note ‘Ha-Ha-Ha’ while Sunny Side stood up and walked out of the room. When he returned, his ears had drooped, his soft smile faltered, and Honey Drop worried.

“What’s up?” He posed, to a questionable look from Sunny Side.

“There’s a letter here,” He answered, and pushed an opened letter towards Honey Drop “It’s from your mother?”

Honey Drop’s left eye twitched and lips that had once been smiling flipped upside down in a nervous frown. He grabbed at the letter and then scanned the letters which formed words.

Minutes wrapped in tension and fraught with dread passed. Occasionally, Honey Drop would murmur a ‘Hmm.’ or huff air through his nostrils, but the noises he made only that stood to worry Sunny Side more. When he was finished, and the letter was read, Honey Drop placed it flat on the table, brought a hoof to his head and groaned, before speaking.

“My sister is coming to visit.”

Sunny Side. Each and every single fibre of his being, repulsed. His brow lowered, his lip with it and even his eyes suddenly became soft and weak.

“When?”

“Today.”

“Oh dear.” Sunny Side tried to smile. “When is she coming in? Will we have time to set up the guest room? Its still a bit messy from when Piper stayed over the other night.”

“Nine.” Honey Drop read. “She’s taking the first train from Canterlot.”

Silence met the two colts for some time. Two pairs of eyes tore away from the other to stare at the Wonderbolts themed clock which hung just a few inches above the oven. A cartoon depiction of Soarin’ stared back at them and, below his chin, he showed -- in analog -- the time. 8:13. A.M.

“This seems sudden.” Sunny Side said, “Fair warning would have been nice.”

“I know,” He -- who was Honey Drop -- grunted. “Goddess, this so typical her. Did you know she hasn’t written to me once this semester? She didn’t send me a letter when I told her I found a place off campus! Or when I moved in with you? And now, all of the sudden, she just decides to come visit the same exact weekend we have our busiest schedule of the semester!”

Sunny Side crooked his head upwards and his lips found Honey Drop’s chin.

“We’ll be okay,” he said, “It’s only your sister.”

“Oh, you don’t know Singer!” Honey Drop groaned. “She’s absolutely the worst.”

“How bad can an unemployed high school graduate be?”

When Honey Drop didn’t answer, Sunny Side found himself feeling uneasy.

“She is… rational, right?” He posed. “If we tell her we have plans already, she’ll understand… right?”

Honey Drop kept quiet, though his eyes seemed to have found a sudden fascination with the floor his hooves kicked at.

“Um,” Honey Drop licked his lips. “Sure?”

“We can work through this,” Sunny Side, always the optimist, suggested, throwing a hoof around his boyfriend’s shoulder and kissing his cheek. “We always do.”

Honey Drop smiled.

That was their morning.

***

Barstow was a town a half hours walk from the refurbished frat house that Honey Drop and Sunny Side had claimed as their own. The town itself was small and boasted few amenities, but for those who hailed from Camden it was the place where they had first stepped hoof, proverbially, from their old life and into their new.

Honey Drop and Sunny Side stood in the Barstow terminal of the greater train station that made up the Equestrian tour. In the few weeks that had turned to months since Sunny Side had been the significant other of Honey Drop, he’d seldom heard stories of his boyfriend’s life outside of Camden. He knew not about Honey Drop's home life, less about his family, and literally nothing beyond that 'Singer' was his sister's name and that she was, in his words, 'Absolutely. The. Worst.'.

This worried Sunny Side. Still, he stood just as eager as Honey Drop at the train station and waited.

Flashing lights against the mid afternoon soon blinded their eyes, and short seconds later, the train stopped in the station and bulky doors

Sunny Side held his breath while Honey Dropped looked on.

She emerged through a cloud of smoke of her own making, and Sunny Side was upset to find she looked like something the proverbial rat had dragged from the sewer. Black lensed glasses in the shape of cartoon hearts covered her eyes. Her mane, dyed a dark black, grew wild, uncombed and free on her head and down her face. A cigarette, already burning, hung out of the corner of her mouth and when she gazed on her brother, she didn’t crack so much as a smile. Instead, lips coated in purple lipstick pursed and a ring of smoke escaped out of them, then another, and another, until she was standing steps ahead of them, blowing smoke rings at them.

“What a shithole.” She greeted cheerfully while stepping off the train. “This place smells like onions and mud.”

Honey Drop’s right eye twitched, his hooves nervously joined together, and he only felt comfortable when Sunny Side’s hoof touched his shoulder.

“Its nice to see you, Singer,” He said through a forced smile. “How, um, how have you been?”

Singer -- his sister -- blew smoke out of her nostrils and levitated a black duffel bag in a purple aura from the train.

“Simply wonderful,” was her monotone reply. “I broke up with Stash, and mom said it would be an ‘absolutely positive experience for me’ if I came to see you for a few days. Honestly, she’s always one sangria away from telling me I need to get out of the house and ‘get on with my life’.”

Honey Drop raised a single eyebrow.

“Who was Stash?”

“Just some boy I was seeing,” She said. “He was part of this band; Black Mistakes. They were a neo-progressive post-punk band. They mostly did covers.”

“I… see..”

“Yeah,” she sighed, “He was great in bed, but, he had a lot of intimacy issues… he actually called me ‘mommy’. Twice.”

Sunny Side, not Honey Drop, coughed out a gasp and in doing so drew Honey Drop and Singer’s attention to him.

“You must be ‘The Boyfriend.’?” she said, levitating her cigarette onto the ground, squashing it with a hoof and then replacing it with another unlit menthol.

Sunny Side’s face glowed with pride, he smiled at her and held his hoof out to meet hers.

“Yes.” He said, turning once to face Honey Drop and giving him a look filled with tenderness, “Yes I am.”

She shook it, daintily, then drew it towards her and brought it to her face. She stroked the underside of her chin for a few brief seconds while, no doubt, the eyes hidden behind her glasses roamed the body of her brother’s boyfriend.

“Hmm,” She purred, “You’re heavier than I thought you would be...”

Sunny Side’s lower lip trembled and his eyelids sank. He bowed his head to the floor. He didn’t stare back at Honey Drop, or up at his sister. Instead he turned away while mumbling “It’s so nice to meet you.” to the ground.

“Singer!” Honey Drop scolded, staring hard against his sister’s sunglasses. “Mind your manners.”

Singer shrugged.

“Well,” she said, tapping her hoof impatiently against the train station floor. “Wouldn’t you like to show me your place? Mom says you’ve been refurbishing an abandoned drug den or something?”

“Its a two story,” Honey Drop defended in a quiet grumble, “And yes, Sunny Side and I are very proud of it. Aren’t we?”

He turned to face Sunny Side, who was busy sucking in, then blowing out his stomach.

“Great,” She said, stomping out her second cigarette. “We’re going to have to get food somewhere on the way, I can’t eat on trains. Everything they serve just tastes like sawdust.”

“There’s an, um, lovely little cafe that we like,” Honey Drop nudged Sunny Side, begging the colt to join in on the conversation, but, again he said nothing.

“It sounds quaint.” She smirked, “Lead the way, dear brother.”

And with that they were off.

***

Monk’s was the sole coffee shop at Camden that didn’t belong to a larger conglomerate or franchise. It was smaller than Star-Bucks and the drinks were pricier. Regardless, it had earned a place in the hearts of Sunny Side and Honey Drop as being the first place they had ever shared a cup of coffee together as more than friends.

Rich lore and romantic history aside, it was also the only place on campus Honey Drop could imagine his sister would find quiet enough to have an earnest and honest conversation. The food court was always crammed full of students. He didn’t imagine she’d care for the library, or the arts lounges, and even the gallery where flourishing artists showcased their works didn’t quite seem up to his sister’s speed.

That, and he aimed to keep her as far away from frat houses, frat boys, and the knowledge that some students at Camden made time in their schedules to piss away their days drinking from kegs and hosting mid afternoon contests to see who could fill their guts with more beer before passing out. Since the walk to his and Sunny Side’s house passed right through the neighbourhood of underachieving Camden students, the longer he could prolong the inevitable, the better.

So, there they were, the three of them. Sunny Side sat close to Honey Drop on one side of a round table. Sunny Side sipped from a Lo-Cal Choi Mocha Latte. Honey Drop stirred skim milk into his black coffee. Singer emptied her third sugar packet into an ink black cup of dark roast.

“How,” Honey Drop began to say, “Are mom and dad?”

Singer took a minute to answer. First she sipped her coffee -- loudly enough to draw the leery eyes of colts and fillies away from textbooks, and onto her -- then she levitated another menthol into her mouth and, ignoring the leers from colts and fillies around her, lit it.

“Fine, fine.” She drawled. “Ever since you left for Camden they’ve been going at it like it was their second honeymoon. Its every night with them, sometimes in the afternoon, too.”

Honey Drop nearly dropped his cup of coffee. Thankfully, his grip on the porcelain cup was stronger than his grip on his mental state in that moment. He contorted his face; his lips pursed together and his eyes squinted.

He said nothing but waved another one of Singer’s smoke clouds away from his face. His sister sipped more of her coffee.

Sunny Side still hadn’t broken his self appointed vow of silence, but seemed to be getting over the idea that he was fat. A breakfast scone -- a little wonder of modern baking -- was surrounded by a purple glow and split down the middle. One half fell out of reach of Sunny Side’s magic, and the other, floated towards his mouth.

He chewed it silently.

“Singer,”

It was the first word that Sunny Side had spoken in the conversation since they had arrived.

“Yes?”

“I hate to sound rude, but, why exactly did you decide to visit?”

Honey Drop nudged Sunny Side with his leg underneath the table. Sunny Side responded by resting his hoof on Honey Drop’s lap and innocently rubbing his thigh, shutting him up indefinitely.

“It wasn’t really my choice,” She answered. “After I broke it off with Stash, mom thought it would be motivating, or, I don’t know uplifting, I guess, to come down and see my successful, big brother.” Singer’s teeth chewed tight together and her lips peeled back into a savage looking grimace, “She’s such a psycho.”

“And… how long will you be staying?”

“I’m not really sure.” She sighed. “Stash said his sister went to Coltlumbia for a semester, until she O.D.’d the night before an exam and had to drop out. I bet the parties here are just as intense?”

Honey Drop hesitated to answer honestly. Camden parties were wild, fun and more than dangerous to attend for a self admitted hedonist who lacked the shame and discipline to control herself, or her actions. He also knew, from his limited experiences with members of the same sex who didn’t prefer members of the same sex, that Camden was full of characters whom liked to take advantage of ponies in his sister’s position.

“Well,” Sunny Side smiled to his right. “Wouldn’t you like to see some of the campus? You know, our place is only a fifteen minute walk from the university center. We could show you around?”

He couldn’t see it from behind her glasses, but he could imagine Singer rolling her eyes. Still, she smiled sweetly at him.

“Thank you for the offer,” She said with an amicable sweetness in her voice. “But, if it’s all the same, I’d rather show myself around campus. You two aren’t really up to my speed. No offense.”

Offense was taken.

Neither Sunny Side, nor Honey Drop, responded. Instead, time passed slowly while the three ate in perhaps the most uncomfortable silence known in Monk’s coffee shop before that day. Singer didn’t seem to notice, or, if she did, she hardly seemed to care. Sunny Side nibbled his scone, Honey Drop chewed the other half and time continued to pass.

Ponies came and went while they ate. First came a group of mares who wanted them to sign a petition of the ethical treatment of buffalo -- which Sunny Side and Honey Drop signed and Singer flatly refused on the grounds that buffalo were capable of helping themselves out. Stormy and the farmer from Dodge Junction came in a short time after that. They didn’t seem to notice the judgemental stares from Sunny Side or Honey Drop, instead deciding to focus on sitting extremely close together and hovel overtop an opened Cultural Studies textbook.

No more than two weeks had passed since The End of the World party and ever since that time Stormy and the colt who they had come to learn was ‘Gentle Strokes’ from Dodge Junction had been an inseparable item. The allure of befriending a new gay couple on campus was deftly met with the distaste both colts had for Stormy, and his treatment of White Mane, who was their friend.

This was neither here, nor there, though. Their presence wasn’t enough to shake the foundation of their day, and they wouldn’t dare mention it, even in passing, to anyone but themselves. It was just a curious distraction from the awkwardness that had grown at the table.

Then, all at once, the door to Monk’s swung open, the bell chimed, and through it walked a curious site: a winged beast. Bipedal with the hind legs of a large jungle prowling cat, and thick, clawed fingers attached to thick forearms in his front. A gryphon. Vincent.

Salvation had a curious face today.

He held under one arm a thick book and nothing in his other. His eyes scanned the room, and once they fell on the table where Honey Drop, his sister and his boyfriend sat, he smiled broadly and guided himself towards them.

“Hey,” he greeted. “What’s up?”

Sunny Side smiled, Honey Drop smiled, Singer’s mood stayed calm, though she tilted her sunglasses with her hoof and her eyes drank in the newcomer. She made a sound, something that sounded deftly close to the satisfied purr of a housecat, and invited him to seat with the wave of her hoof over an empty chair beside her.

“I’m Singer,” She introduced. “Honey Drop’s younger sister.”

A sultry emphasis was put on the word younger.

He extended an open claw to her awaiting hoof and curled the fingers around it. He smiled politely when he shook her hoof.

“Vincent,” He introduced. “It’s nice to meet you, Singer.”

Singer’s tongue traced along her lips, slowly.

“Likewise.” She said.

Vincent smiled, then stared down at his textbook and flipped it open.

“You’re taking musical theory?” She asked. Her body moved forwards a few inches, and she propped her head onto her crossed hooves.

Vincent cracked one eye from the textbook, smiled politely, and nodded.

“That’s very interesting,” said Singer, “What do you play?”

Across from them, Sunny Side nudged the soft flesh of Honey Drop’s stomach with his elbow, then leaned forwards so that his mouth was by his ear.

“I just had an idea…” he whispered, “If we can convince your sister that Vincent and Scout are worth spending time with…”

…then she would be in good hooves/claws for the foreseeable future while they carried out their daily struggle.

It was foolproof.

Then a thought hit his mind.

The plan might have been foolproof, but was it Scout’s Honor proof?

“What about Scout?” Honey Drop whispered back. “I can’t leave my sister with him…”

“Scout is perfectly harmless.” said Sunny Side. “He may be a walking hard on. But, I really don’t see his pornogragphy collection impressing your sister. In fact, if we’re lucky she’ll be so repulsed by him and his limitless, misplaced libido that she’ll swear off sex for life.”

Honey Drop grinned.

“Okay,” he said, “I think this can work.”

“Just follow my lead,” Sunny Side said.

He pulled away and leaned forwards, towards Singer and Vincent, who had engaged themselves in a discussion about music that seemed, honestly, quite intellectual.

“I hate to interrupt,” Sunny Side leered at the two, “But, I just remembered that Honey Drop and I have our auditions today.”

Honey Drop nodded along. Vincent cocked his right eyebrow.

“I thought they were at noon?”

All four bodies at the table stared at the clock.

It read: 9:30. A.M.

“Yes, well,” Sunny Side said, “Ziggy, our stage manager, is very insistent on being punctual, and, in fact, she actually asked us to show up early to help with-”

He paused here and nonverbally begged for an assist from Honey Drop, who read the subtle signs his face made -- His nose scrunched up and his left eye blinked. Twice.

“-Set design.” He finished Sunny Side’s thought. “She thinks that since we’re both gay we’re both more qualified than the straight ponies she has working for her-”

“-Which, granted, is true. Even if it is a somewhat offensive stereotype-” Sunny Side interrupted.

“-So, we really should be going.” Honey Drop said. He stood up, then turned his head to face Vincent. “Vincent, you wouldn’t mind showing my sister around campus, would you?”

“Uh…” Vincent peeked over at Singer, whose eyes had grown wide with excitement. “I… guess not.”

“Great!” Sunny Side and Honey Drop replied, their voices joined in unison. “Singer, you don’t mind do you?”

Singer shook her head, but her eyes and their wide pupiled glance never once left Vincent’s body.

“We’ll be back at our place by nine tonight.” Sunny Side said, “We’re having a small, tiny, get together with the cast, but we’ll tidy up the guest bedroom and leave the back door unlocked for you-”

“-And only you!-” Honey Drop insisted.

“-So whenever you feel like coming home and crashing you can just walk right in.” Sunny Side finished. "We'll even take your luggage for you."

Both colts seated at the table rose, and the gryphon, Vincent, with them. Honey Drop eyed him skeptically. Rather then press the issue, Vincent saw fit to drag both colts a table length from Singer, whose eyes followed him the entire way.

“Why?” He asked, and nothing else.

“Why?” Honey Drop repeated his quandry.

“Yes. Why are you leaving your sister with me?” He brought a claw up to scratch the fur between his eyes. “I don’t even know her.”

Honey Drop exhaled sharply. He veered his head over Vincent’s shoulder, staring on at his sister, then back at the gryphon.

“I… can’t stand her.” grumbled the unicorn, “She’s lazy, unmotivated, spoiled and bohemian. I know I’m asking alot, but it would be doing me and Sunny a huge favor if you could keep your eye on her for a few hours? Just to make sure she stays out of trouble?”

Vincent took a second to think. He stared back at Singer, who stared back at him, then he returned his eyes to Honey Drop.

“Fine,” He sighed. “But, I want something in return.”

“Vincent,” Sunny Side faked a gasp. “You mean to say that you won’t do two of your closest friends in all of this continent, and yours, an itty bitty teeny weeny favor out of the goodness of your heart?”

“Hardly,” Vincent laughed. “It’s not a big deal or anything, just an ‘itty bitty teeny weeny’ favor to go with yours?”

“And that would be?”

Vincent’s smile grew broad across his mouth and rose up his cheeks.

“You’re having that cast party tonight, right?”

Sunny Side looked at Honey Drop, who nodded, then he looked back at Vincent.

“Yes,”

“And all the cast is coming?”

“Yes,”

“And friends?”

Sunny Sighed sighed, low and heavy, then shrugged.

“I suppose we can open our doors to a few friends of the cast also…”

“Great,” Vincent grinned. “I promise to have Scout on his best behavior.”

“It’s all we’d ask.” Honey Drop smirked. “That, and, make sure he doesn’t make a scene?”

“Of course not,” smiled the Gryphon. He held his claw out, uncurling the claws and imploring any, or either, colt to shake his and seal the deal.

Reluctantly, Honey Drop met his claw with his hoof.

“It’s a deal,” said Vincent, “I’ll have her back by nine.”

***

A yellowed claw, ripe with sharp nails, curled into itself to form a fist that beat against the locked door. It took a second, but Vincent’s knock was answered by a voice, panicked and jittery.

“Don’t come in!” insisted the voice behind the door. “I’m busy! I'm studying! I’m reading a book! Give me a minute!”

The voice was fast and panicked, and Vincent, the Gryphon, turned to Singer -- his friend’s sister -- and shrugged his heavy shoulders.

She smiled back.

From inside the room attached to the door came the noise of hooves stumbling across the carpeted floor in a mad dash. Then a drawer opened, slammed shut, and the hooves came closer and closer to the door, which swung open to the visage of a very antsy young colt.

Scout’s Honor.

He stared first at Vincent, then at Singer, then bowed his head.

“Sorry,” He said, “I was… uh… just… writing a letter to my parents.”

“I thought you said you were studying?”

Scout snapped his head backwards, stared at something in the room, then back to his roommate.

“Yeah,” He mumbled. “Oh, yeah, right. Just studying." He sighed, relieved, then kept going. "You know how it is with all those... books and reading and words...”

Vincent said nothing. He peered past Scout's shoulder and wondered just what kind of studying he'd been doing with a tub of vaseline, a box of tissues and a snorkel. There wasn’t even a textbook in sight.

He shrugged it off.

“This is Singer,” He introduced, waving his claws towards the form of the young mare who leaned casually in the door frame with a menthol hanging loose out of the corner of her mouth, spilling ash onto the floor. “Honey Drop’s sister.”

A predatory smile, as there was really no other word for it, built on Scout’s face. He slicked his wild, sweat stained mane back with his hoof, then extended it.

“I’m Scout,” He greeted. Singer shook his hoof with great hesitation. “Let me just say that it's an honor to meet my best friend’s sister.” She drew her hoof back and he kept smiling. "He never said you were so pretty."

Singer’s eyes rolled in her head and she shoved past him on her way into the dorm room.

“Goddess,” She croaked while she flopped herself uninvited onto Vincent’s bed, “How can you two live in this freakin’ broom closet? My cabin on the train was bigger than this.”

“You should see your brother’s place,” Scout insisted, cracking a grin, “It’s like something out of one of Hoity Toity’s wet dreams.”

At this, Singer snorted, and Scout’s face fell red with blush. He scratched at his mane and took a seat on his bed opposite side of her.

“So,” Vincent danced his hooves along the bed frame, staring first at Singer, then at Scout -- who had himself transfixed on their friend’s younger sister. “Is there anything you’d like to see while you’re here?”

Singer gave a low, anguished grunt -- the perfect pitch to betray all the resentment and hatred she held towards academy -- then fell back onto Vincent’s bed. Her hooves sprawled out behind her then curled inwards to form a pillow underneath her head.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” She moaned. “My brother is the golden child. I get it! My mom -- the freakin’ psycho -- thought if I came down here, some of that stupid fairy dust of his would rub off on me and suddenly I’d stop wanting to bang musicians, blowing my trust fund on parties, and crack into some of the classics.”

At the phrase ‘bang musicians’ a spark seemed to shine in Scout’s eyes. He leaned his body against the side of the bed and fired his hooves underneath. Seconds later, he was pulling a black guitar case -- with a collection of stamps and stickers advertising bands he fancied -- from underneath and unlocking it.

“You, uh, like musicians?” He was asking while he drew an acoustic from the guitar case. “Cause, I play a little bit.”

“Yeah, I guess…” She never turned her head to face him when she spoke. “I mean, I was dating this guy, Stash, back home. He was just the bassist in his band, so I guess he wasn’t really a musician, but, he could do this thing with his tongue-”

Singer continued to repeat stories from her life while Vincent watched Scout strap the guitar across his back, and pluck the strings with the tips of his hooves. The sound from the guitar was soft, but ugly all the same.

“-And after I caught him sleeping with one of his bandmates, this skinny little Goth boy, I knew we were over. I mean, I was sleeping with him too, but, you know-”

“-Mhmm, mhmm,” Scout nodded along, still tugging at strings on his guitar, but never once finding a tune to stick with. “-He sounds like an ass.”

Singer shot up in the bed and threw her hooves out.

“I know!” She agreed with unrestrained gusto. “That’s what I said, too!” She turned to Scout, smiled softly and filled his face once again with a crimson hue. “You know, for some reason my brother said you were like the dumb one in his group of friends… I don’t see it.”

Scout greeted her unrestrained cheer with a simple head nod. After that, he continued to strum his instrument. The strings to the song ‘Blackbird’ were plucked, albeit, harshly, and all the while Scout kept his eyes tight shut and melancholy.

“Your brother is kind of gay.” Scout insisted, raising his head and aiming it towards Singer. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that…”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me!” she exasperated. Her head shook, from side to side, as if she was troubled by the fact. “I knew my brother was gay when he asked my mom to sew him a Princess Celestia costume for Nightmare Night when he was twelve.”

Scout laughed. Singer laughed. Vincent curled his claws over his mouth and gave a half arsed chuckle, but nothing more. It seemed disrespectful to talk about a pony behind his back. Especially when he had no way of defending himself.

“How are you so cool?” Scout posed, leaning his frame over his guitar and staring imploringly at Singer. “I mean, not that your brother isn’t, but… y'know what I mean, right?”

Singer sighed.

“I buckled under the pressure.” She admitted, with a hint of sarcasm to her voice. “Honey Drop was always the charming, handsome, exquisite, one of the two of us, and I was always the ‘wild child’. After a while I kinda learned to live with it.”

Scout, in his selfish wisdom, kept nodding along.

“I’m the same way!” He added in, “Well, actually, my dad just said that if I didn’t go to college after high school he was gonna send me to work with my cousins on a rock farm, but, like, semantics, right?”

Singer nodded, smiled, then leaned back. Scout continued to strum the guitar, occasionally lifting an eye to stare up at Singer.

Vincent stared at the clock.

“Hmm,” grunted the Gryphon, raising himself up from his seat. “I have a class in a half hour. Are you guys going to be okay if I run out for a bit?”

“Ugh,” Singer sighed, and dropped her head backwards against the pillow “I know my brother probably told you otherwise, but, I’m not actually six.” She exhaled a sharp, pained, whistle through her teeth, but never moved her body so much as an inch. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

Vincent huffed an obscene and mildly misogynistic comment under his breath. Thankfully no one seemed to hear it but him.

“We’ll be fine, Vince.” Scout smiled up at him.

Somehow, Vincent knew Scout was lying, and that leaving the two of them alone together was asking for trouble. He was betraying Honey Drop’s trust in him, and, should anything happen to them -- and quite honestly he could come up with nothing short of a million scenarios where the two alone wound up causing mischief and mayhem for the pure and innocent -- he was solely responsible...

...and yet, the girl who sat beside him in Anthropology was probably going to be in class today. And, she had just recently discovered the joys of wearing yoga pants outside of a yoga setting…

He knew he was wrong, and he’d regret it much later, but Vincent The Gryphon decided then and there that leaving Scout and Singer in a room together was an affordable sacrifice he was going to make.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” said Vincent the Gryphon, “Please don’t make me hate myself for leaving you two alone?”

The way that both ponies smiled back at him did little to ease his mind. On the flip side, he had places to go and the backside of mares flanks to see. Today, Celestia willing, those flanks would be nicely cushioned behind a pair of the tightest pants that polymer fibers had ever formed.

Author's Note

I owe a huge amount of thanks to Einhander, The Illusive Badgerpony, Nothing Is Constant, Scribble Script and anyone and everyone who helped edit this chapter. I can't link to any of their profiles but you should do yourselves some favors and check out the stories that these fine folk have written (Except for Nothing Is Constant, he doesn't write. He just solemnly sulks and provides much needed moral support to this lonely cat lover.)

Also, If I didn't mention you make sure you scathingly chew me out in the comment section and make me feel miserable for it.