The First Chat
The sun shone brilliantly so high above, the partly cloudy skies giving the cafe a pleasant ambient temperature. Icarus sat at his regular table, his once full cup of hot chocolate now laying on its side, the contents now slowly dissolving within his stomach. A satisfied belch slowly wormed its way up his throat, sending pleasant tingles running through his body. An impatient glance at his watch revealed that his longtime friend, Grey Quill, was running late. Again. While Grey Quill wasn’t always late, he had been... delayed, as he phrased it, the past few times, each time coming up with a new, and, admittedly creative, excuse. For a moment Icarus had the urge to ruffle his feathers to display his irritation, but, as he usually did, he vaguely recalled his distinct lack of feathery appendages.
Grey Quill bustled down the busy Ponyville street, offering passing nods and simple ‘hellos’ to those he passed. There was a noticeable bounce to his step and a worried frown on his face. He was late...he hated being late. The sun beat down on him from above, and a gentle bead of sweat poured down his brow as he trotted along, his hastened pace and signature scarf both doing their part to work him up.
Slowly the cafe slid into view, and he breathed a sigh of relief, Icarus was likely still inside. He’d feed him some kind of excuse revolving around, old ladies and bus stops or something. As he usually did. They were always lies, obvious ones too, but Icarus always seemed to get a kick out of their ridiculousness at the very least.
His horn lit up as he gripped the handle of the cafe door in his magical grip, poking his head inside and looking for his seat.
Icarus looked up as the bells above the door jingled softly, signaling the arrival of yet another pony to the restaurant. A faint smile played across Icarus’ lips as he say the familiar scarf wrapped around the familiar pony’s neck.
Grey Quill smiled back, nervously stepping by the waitress as he approached the table.
Icarus leaned forward on his hooves, looking at the approaching unicorn with a poorly concealed smile on his face. “What was it this time, Grey? More dragons? Or, perhaps, you took an arrow to the fetlock. Again.”
The unicorn scoffed, taking his seat and using his scarf to dab at the sweat on his brow. “Please, dragons? Preposterous, I was dealing with a far deadlier creature this time.”
“Oh? Deadlier than a dragon?” Icarus let out a short laugh, his own wit getting the best of him. “Was it... Oh, I don’t know, that hag you call a marefriend?”
Grey Quill grumbled a little at the emotional jab. “Please, far deadlier than that. This creature... why, it’ll suck out your very will to live.”
Icarus’ eyes went wide as the full realization sunk in. In hushed tones he uttered a single word. “Dubstep...”
Grey Quill shivered in mock, yet convincing, fear. “No... almost as bad, but no. I, my dear Icarus, was dealing with...” The unicorn waited for a beat, letting the suspense of his delivery build. “THE ELDERLY!”
“By the Creator, Grey, that’s...” Icarus looked at the table for a moment, letting his hooves drop to his side before he looked back at the unicorn, mock defeat in his eyes. “I don’t even know an adjective quite strong enough to describe that!”
The stallion smirked in mock satisfaction, looking up and waving to a pretty waitress across the way, beckoning for her to come over. He turned back to Icarus. “You need not fear my featherless friend, I... took care of it.”
Icarus’ eyes widened as he recalled some of Grey’s past exploits with the terminally old. “Did you...”
The scarfed stallion could feel his smirk grow just a tad. “You know there’s only one way to deal with these... monstrosities.”
“You really should stop pushing them in front of buses, though. It’s... Well, bad for the buses for one thing.” Icarus brought a hoof to his chin, bringing a contemplative air to his appearance. “Also, it’s just bad form.”
Again, the unicorn scoffed. “Well... It’s not like they have long to live anyway.”
“Still, it’s bad form. I mean... Come on, even you have standards to live up to.”
“Pft, low standards perhaps.” Grey Quill looked off to the side, drawing his companions eye up to the approaching waitress. “Speaking of which... how are you doing ma’am?”
The rather striking waitress flashed a sincere smile at the two stallions, quickly retrieving her notepad from her small skirt. “I’m quite well, thanks for asking Grey. And there’s really no need to be so formal. You’ve been coming here every week for...” She trailed off for a moment, lost in thought. “How long, now?”
Grey Quill’s shining blue eyes traveled back towards his friend, a curious air overtaking him. “Uh...I don’t know really.”
“Eloquent as ever, Grey. It’s been about a year since we first came here. And I have to say that the drinks, and the view, have only been improving.”
The mare blushed, Icarus’ companion resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Well forgive me for not keeping track.” There was a noticeable edge to his voice. “But time just flies when you spend in the company of somepony as fine as yourself.”
“Flying, ha. Funny. Almost as funny as tooth decay.” Icarus looked back to the waitress. “Really, (Sugar Heart) you look as good as ever. Sadly, I’m still involved with Pinkie, so you’ll have to wait a bit longer. Assuming that the two of us break up, which is, admittedly, doubtful.”
“Yes well... that hasn’t stopped you before.” Grey Quill mumbled bitterly to himself, shooting the stallion a tiny glare as the waitress’ blush quickly evaporates.
“I don’t mention your indiscretions, you don’t mention mine. It’s a rule. One we both agreed to. Remember?”
The unicorn shrugs. “Must have slipped my mind, now, my darling (Sugar Heart ) would you be so kind?” The mare retrieves her pen and paper. “Black coffee please, and a scone.”
“You and your black coffee. I bet you want the same damn kind of scone, too. Predictable as always. I, on the other hoof, would like to have the usual. Hot chocolate with whipped cream, and a banana nut muffin.” Sugar Heart nodded as she quickly jotted down the two orders, using that annoying shorthand style of writing that only the wait staff seem to be able to read.
“Anything else you two?” Her quasi-rhetorical question was met with the same customary shakes of the head, and with that she offered a smile. “Right, well, it’ll be the same five minutes it always is.” Despite her claim that it would take just five minutes, both Grey Quill and Icarus knew that she actually meant a period of time that was as rigid as the time it takes to wait outside the bathroom. It all depended on just how hungry the two stallions were. With that said, the waitress departed, her flanks swaying just the same as always, knowingly drawing the gazes of both of the males at the table, and even the eyes of a few nearby mares.
Icarus let out a low chuckle as he quickly looked to see Grey Quill ogling the mare’s flanks. “And you were talking about my attempts with the fairer sex.”
The unicorn shifted back in his seat, shaking the blush from his cheeks. “Yes well... just because I’m taken, doesn’t mean I can’t look.”
“Agreed. A fine set of flanks is like fine art. It takes a trained eye to know how to appreciate what’s being offered for the visual buffet. Not that you would really know much about that kind of thing. Hell, there’s not many flanks that you would turn down.”
Grey Quill raised his eyebrows. “Well, I’m not picky, that’s for sure. But... well, judging from my past tendencies, I’m sure I’ve seen more flanks than you have.” The unicorn shot him a coy look. “About twice as many... if you catch my meaning.”
“Sorry, but that’s not really possible. Unless you look at stallion-flank. Not that I’d judge, or anything.”
The unicorn shifted in his seat, his eyes wandering towards the, (wooden? This is Ponyville, not fancy pants Canterlot. We’ve got wooden buildings and we LIKE it!) ceiling.
“Yes well, I’d certainly hope not.” He cast the stallion a cursory glance. “You seem like an open minded sort.” Grey Quill gave a suggestive wink and lick of his lips. “Right... Icarus?”
Icarus shook his head slowly, a smile playing on his otherwise impassive features. “Got no problem with where you want to be prodded, but don’t expect me to be the one doing the prodding.”
Grey Quill suppressed a chuckle, glad to see that his friend had got the joke. “Prodding, getting prodded, it’s all rather enjoyable... though I can’t expect everypony to agree. Look, there’s our lovely waitress.”
“Changing the subject should be your special talent, Grey.” The waitress sauntered up just as the pair let their conversation die. With the speed and efficiency of a waitress who’s been doing this for far too long, (Sugar Heart) served the drinks and pastries, making sure to make just a little show of it, knowing full well that both stallions appreciated it, even if they couldn’t act upon their thoughts.
“I swear to Celestia she does that on purpose...” The scarfed unicorn mumbled, mouth full of blueberry scone as he watched the two delicious mounds of flesh bounce out of sight.
“Yeah, probably. But I’m not complaining. Pinkie’s got it where it counts, but, by the Creator, there’s something entrancing about the way (Sugar Heart) does it.”
The unicorn sighed, his eyes wistful. “Rarity’s not bad in the hind area either. She keeps in shape you know? But she knows where to keep the meat.” He downed the rest of his scone, crumbs tumbling out onto the spotted tablecloth beneath his chin. “Speaking of keeping in shape, I have to stop eating these. She’ll kill me if I get fat...”
“If you get fat? I’m going out with Pinkie. I’m amazed I don’t have diabetes yet. She’s a sugar eating machine. I’ve gotten her to tone it back, some, but it’s still an amazing amount each day.” Icarus looked down at his figure for a moment. “Although, given how much we do each day, I suppose that I need to maintain my immense diet.”
“I still don’t understand how you can put up with it...” The unicorn mumbled, quickly moving to explain after Icarus shot him a tiny glare. “With her hyperactive tendencies, I mean. With Rarity, we go out and do things yeah, she keeps me moving, but there’s still plenty of down time.” He waved his hoof in a circular motion. “Ya know... cuddling and what not.”
“I know what you mean. Despite what you may see, Pinkie does have her own way of relaxing. When she’s out and about in town she acts... differently. More easily excited, and more energetic. She’s still the same mare as always, but when it’s just her and I she tones it down a great deal. She’ll still be excited by the smallest things, but she knows how to react when we’re having some time to ourselves. And with our jobs, those times are few and far between.”
The unicorn nods, sipping at his coffee, his horn alight with a silvery shining glow as he levitated the steaming cup to his lips, he pulled it away with a tiny frown. “You know something Icarus?”
“Hm?”
“I don’t even like coffee...”
Slowly, almost as if expecting something to happen, Icarus lowered his own cup down to the table. “You...” He paused for a moment, still unsure about just what was going on. “You don’t like coffee? And yet... Every week? For a year?”
The unicorn offered him a nonchalant nod. “Yeah, strange isn’t it?” He and Icarus shared a glance, his expression blank, his companion’s confused. “Whatever...” He took another drink, shuddering in disgust afterwards.
“I... I always thought it was because the coffee was hot, or something. But... Ya know what, fuck it.”
The stallion finished off the cup, placing the now empty vessel down on the table. He looked over the table, the empty plates and cups signifying the winding down of their little pow wow.
“Well, getting close to that time then, isn’t it Icarus?”
Icarus spared a cursory glance at his timepiece, frowning as he realized just how much time had already passed. “Seems like it. Any parting thoughts before we get the check and commence the ritualistic debate over financial hardship?”
“Just one...” He took a deep breath, as if preparing to say something profound. “Do you like this new scarf?”
“Meh. The one you had last week was a bit better. Seemed to bring out the color of your deep and beautiful eyes a bit more. Made me feel a bit more like prodding you, if you know what I mean.”
The unicorn put a dainty hoof up to his lips and feigned embarrassment. “Oh stop it you... you’ll make me blush.”
“What will Icarus make you do, dear?” A familiar voice cut through the dull clamor of the cafe, both stallions turning their heads to see the familiar form of the approaching fashion obsessed pony.
“Oh, good afternoon, Rarity. Grey, here, was just telling me about some of the more... explorative things the two of you do in the bedroom. I tried to get him to stop, but he just kept on going and going. Then, when I finally got a word in edge-wise, he made that little remark.” Icarus glanced at the, now mortified, unicorn. “Honestly, miss Rarity, he’s got such a mouth on him.”
The unicorn’s shared a glance, the stallion’s one of utter mortification, the fashionista’s one of utter amusement. “Well Icarus, I suppose that makes our relationships even then.” She placed an illustrious white hoof up to her chest. “I’ll have you know, I just got back from having one of the most delicious picnics with Pinkie Pie...” The unicorn’s expression morphed into a coy grin. “She told me quite a bit about your... fantasies.”
“That’s fine by me. When a mare wants to talk about her stallion, that’s a sign of love and respect. When a stallion talks about his coital conquests... Well, it’s not quite as impressive. A sign of insecurity, one might say.”
The unicorn cocked her head to the side. “Oh my dear Icarus... I assure you, he has nothing to be insecure about.” The unicorn laid her hoof on her coltfriend’s shoulder, giving it a gentle tug. “Come along dear... I feel like... poking tonight.”
“Atta colt, Grey, go get her!” Icarus chuckled for a moment as he watched Grey Quill and Rarity leave. As his chuckles slowly died down, and the more rational part of his brain came back from its temporary hiatus, he came to a stunning, and thoroughly unwanted, conclusion. “Fucking hell, he left me with the Creator damned check!”
