Blurring Boundaries

Mugs coughed into his closed fist, stepping onto the street, not sure whether Sam was going to follow or not. When the other horse stood stock still, nostrils flared, taking dangerously short, shallow breaths, he could not leave him there. Turning back, he closed the distance between them again

"Hey, Sam. Don't go."

The black horse shuddered as if he had been physically touched. Yet Mugs did not dare hug him, to clasp his arm, nothing. But he had to ask, had to know, for it was the only thing that could have possibly made things for Sam even more complicated than what they already had been before for him.

He took a breath, but it was harder to delve into Sam's personal life, again, than he could have imagined.

"Sam, are you bi?"

The stallion swallowed, ears slipping out to the sides, splaying. It was as if the life was draining out of him, deflating and exhaling before Mugs eyes, becoming just a little bit smaller in stature. He only noticed because, well, he knew the stallion.

"I don't know, Mugs," he whispered, gripping his mane as if he was about to rip it out at the roots. "But she... Fuck... Mugs... I dunno, it's all messed up."

"She's a conniving bitch, Sam, but I'll do everything I can to help you, I promise. Whatever you need, I promise. If she's threatening to out you, we can go to the police, do something -- anything!"

Yet the stallion grabbed him by the shoulders before Mugs could even put his arms around Sam, gripping him tightly, eyes wide, wild, desperately edged with a rim of white.

"No..." The desperation in the grip of Sam's fingers dug into Mugs' shoulders. "Don't... My dad will fucking kill me if he finds out, you know I've had to move back in there... I can't go through that. Not... Not until I've moved out, until I don't have to live there. Just..."

He slumped, aching forward, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. But, at least that time, Sam had Mugs there to catch him.

"Just do what she wants you to do...please... I'm so sorry..."

Whatever was going on there was not solely between Janie and Mugs, that much was clear, though the grey stallion could barely soothe Sam as he trembled against him. He didn't cry, only shook, but Mugs would be there for him whatever it took.

Even if it meant that he had to fuck a bitch of a dog to keep her from blabbing secrets. For sometimes stallions simply weren't ready to allow the simplest of secrets, perhaps still while they were working them out, be told.

For Sam, Mugs would have done it without him even asking.