The boomerang spun through the crisp evening air, skimming over the shivering grass with a whirring sound before returning back to it's owner. Phillip reached up and caught the boomerang with his left hoof almost lazily. Pausing for a moment, he examined the familiar sensation of the cool, carved wood in his hoof, turning the tool over to examine the smooth, rounded edges.

"It's cool, dad. What is it?"

"It's called a boomerang, Phil. Our people have used them for hundreds of years, even before Celestia and Luna were born. Come on, I'll teach you how to throw it."

With a sigh, Phillip pulled himself out of the memory. He cocked his leg back, pausing for a moment to check the wind direction, then snapped the boomerang out with a flick of the wrist. It soared out a long way out, dipping down low to the ground before zooming back up like an eagle snatching up a field mouse. It looped back to Phil who reached up to catch it almost without looking.

"Where'd you learn to do that?"

Phil looked up to see Flash gliding towards him, setting down on the grass next to him. Phillip looked back at the boomerang, turning it over in his hooves. "My people, the Aushaylians, used it as a weapon for years. Then it became a ceremonial tool. Parents taught their children how to carve them and how to throw them, passing it down generation to generation."

"So you carved that yourself?" Flash asked, watching as Phil threw the boomerang out again.

"Yeah," Phil replied. "I carved several, in fact." As the boomerang returned, Phil turned and caught it behind his back.

"We used to have boomerang contests every summer," he said softly, looking down at the curved wood in his hooves with a distant look in his eyes. "Down on the beach, every year. Everypony would be there. There'd be contests for longest throw, accuracy, technique...there'd be a big barbie, and Dad I would have a concert with the band..."

His voice trailed off into silence. Glancing up, Flash saw Phillip wipe furiously at his eyes with his foreleg for a moment. "Damn it," he growled, flinging the boomerang out with a violent gesture. It tumbled awkwardly through the air and landed several feet away. Phil let out an angry sigh and looked down at the ground. "It's not fair," he mumbled.

Flash looked at his companion for a while longer, then flew over to the boomerang and picked it up in his hooves, taking it back to Phil. "Hey, teach me how to throw it," he said.

Phil looked a bit surprised for a moment, then walked around Flash to stand behind him. "Hold the boomerang by the tip," he said, taking Flash's hoof and gently raising his leg. "Just pinch it lightly. Now the key to a good throw is making it spin. When you do the throw, you want to snap your wrist slightly at the end."

"Like this?" Flash said, giving the boomerang a practice throw.

"More snap," Phil said. "And don't throw it horizontally, it's not a frisbee. You have to throw it almost vertically, at a bit of an angle." Taking Flash's foreleg in both his hooves, he gently manipulated it to raise it up. "You ever play hoofball? It's kind of like that."

Remembering his old days on the Manehattan U team, Flash raised his foreleg and launched the boomerang, snapping his wrist out at the end of the throw. The boomerang arced forward and sliced right into the ground.

Phillip's lips twitched upward. "Not straight like that. You have to have a little layover: you want to throw it at an angle to the ground. Try it again."

Flushed with embarrassment, Flash retrieved the boomerang and raised his leg again. He snapped the boomerang out at a bit of an angle. This time, the boomerang soared out, skimming sideways through the air over the grass. Flash grinned proudly. A moment later, his grin was removed when the boomerang arced back and bonked him in the nose.

Phil couldn't help but laugh, his shoulders shaking as he chuckled. "Not bad," he snorted. "Maybe I should teach you how to catch it next."

"I'd appreciate that," Flash said, smiling as he rubbed his nose.

The two stallions stayed out in the field until the sun went down and the fireflies came out to dance in the darkness. As it was too dark to see the boomerang anymore, the two simply decided to lay back in the grass and watch the stars come out. Neither of them spoke: there was nothing that needed to be said.

Many minutes later, Phillip was alerted that Flash had fallen asleep by his gentle snores. To his surprise, his companion rolled over in his sleep and curled up against him, wrapping his wings around him. Phil initially stiffened in surprise, then smiled. "Come on, mate. Time to go home."

"Hmm, wha...?" Flash groaned as Phil lifted him up and let him sprawl across his back. Phil carried him back towards the town, heading down towards Flash's cottage near the castle. Still half-asleep, Flash wrapped his forelegs around Phil's chest and hugged him gently.

"Your dad must've been quite a guy," he murmured.

"Yeah," Phil said. "Yeah, he was."

"Y'know," Flash added, already half-snoring again, "You'd make a pretty good dad."

Phil halted as suddenly as though he'd walked into a brick wall. His face practically glowed red in the darkness, his eyes wide as stars. When he did proceed, it was a slower step, as if he had suddenly picked up a greater weight.

When he finally reached Flash's cottage, he carried the younger stallion up into his room and gently laid him down in his bed. Taking the covers in his mouth, he lifted them up over Flash's body, watching as he snuggled up into the warmth. For a moment, he hesitated at the edge of the bed, feeling as though there was something left unsaid.

"Maybe one day," he said softly, turning and leaving the room. "Good night, Flash," he whispered, closing the door behind him.

As he left the cottage and headed down the street towards B Boulevard, Phillip reached up and wiped at his eyes. Maybe one day...

Author's Notes:

Wanted to write a touchy-feely. Did I write a touchy-feely?