Pounding Pumpkin

The Morning After

Pound kneaded the dough aggressively, pushing hard into the gooey mixture. He had speckles of sweat adorning his brow, caught in his hair, threatening to spill from his forehead and into the mix. He wiped away the fluids with the back of his leg, only to return to his work with fervor.

Anything to keep from looking across the room, at this point. He knew she was looking at him, waiting for him to say something. Anything. He pressed his hooves deeper into the dough, as if to quash his own desires.

No, he reckoned he could make do with work. As much work as he could, at this point. There was always more dough to be made, always more chores to be completed.

“You, uh… okay, Pound?”

He tried to catch himself but failed, stealing a glance across the room. Pumpkin was seated on the stairs, a concerned look darkening her complexion.

He nickered, in equal parts irritation and (dare he admit to himself) fear, and redoubled his work.

Pinkie Pie descended the stairs behind Pumpkin, equally concerned for her adoptive son.

“That’s got to be the third set of pastries he’s assembled in the past hour,” Pinkie observed, watching as Pound began spreading the dough out with a roller once more.

“Fourth,” Pumpkin corrected, her concern giving way to irritation, “and despite the fact that he can hear us perfectly well, he’ll continue ignoring me and pretend he can’t hear me. Watch.” Pumpkin threw a curl out of her face with a quick flick of her neck, and stood up abruptly.

With a mighty stomp, she closed in behind her brother, stopping right behind him.

“Hey, doofus. Remember when you came in me last night?”

Everypony in the room knew full well that Pound had definitely heard his sister’s words. Despite this, he continued his work, refusing to be interrupted. If anything, he seemed to quicken his pace, rolling out more dough to continue work on the ever-growing tower of apple turnovers piping up next to him.

Pumpkin rolled her eyes as she stepped back away from her dense twin. Her sense of concern was rapidly dropping as she returned to the side of Pinkie Pie, plopping back down on the warm wood she’d been sitting upon moments before.

“Since breakfast,” she commented. “He’s been like this sense breakfast. Any idea what to make of it?”

“Stress?” Pinkie Pie rubbed her chin thoughtfully, considering the odd behavior of the pegasus in her kitchen. “I mean, how would you feel if you got caught banging your twin and then got grounded for it!”

“I did bang my twin and get grounded for it, mom. You were there, doing the grounding. Two hours ago.”

“Oh yeah!” Pinkie Pie snorted, the memory still giving her quite the fit of giggles.

Pumpkin, however, was not as amused. After the most wonderful night she could have asked for, after she was convinced that they’d both moved forward, risked it all and put everything on the table… this stupid stallion was trying to ignore it all and continue on as if nothing happened.

Except that obviously was as far removed from the truth as she could get. He was acting guilty because of what happened, anxious and paranoid and afraid! They’d confessed their love, given their hearts to each other, committed a sin she could only hope her parents up above hadn’t witnessed, and yet-

Pound groaned in aggravation as he clumped a bunch of dough back into a large, muddled pile, intent on fixing a mistake he’d made by starting fresh.

“He’s ignoring me,” Pumpkin observed dryly.

“You can say that again,” Pinkie Pie quipped, before tousling Pumpkin’s thick, curly mat of hair. The young unicorn growled as she flicked her head again, trying to remove the knotted locks of hair from impeding her vision.

“Why is he being such a… er, such a” - Pumpkin glared back at her brother - “such a royal prick!”

She continued to pout, but Pumpkin knew the feeling Pound was desperately struggling with, deep down inside. She hadn’t come fully to terms with it yet, either, despite her attempts and actions desperately suggesting otherwise.

Fear. They were both so very, very afraid.

Pound shook his head as he felt the boiling gaze of his twin leave the depths of his soul. He wondered how she was able to peer right inside of him, call him out for feeling exactly the same way she did inside, while being just as much of a coward.

He relented his assault against the dough, ever so.

He was being a coward. He knew it. He knew last night had been… wonderful. Perfect. Literally everything his dream had ever wanted.

And yet once he pulled himself out of bed and the rush went away, his heart felt cold and dirty.

He didn’t want to upset Pumpkin! Goddesses no, he could never want to be mean to her. But inside, his guilt was just strangling him, threatening to drown him in a sea of confusion.

He’d meant everything he said to her last night. Everything he’d done, he did with his heart. Unfortunately, his mind wasn’t quite convinced.

Two ponies sat before a table. Pound Cake, with a pair of thin, wire-rimmed glasses, glared impudently at the sleazy, messy pony across from him, wrinkling his nose within the mindscape they were trapped in.

“You slept with your sister,” he commented dryly.

The pony opposite him merely sneered, waving a hoof as if to cut him off.

“We’re Pound, baby! For once, we got our way! We got what we wanted, what’s so wrong with that, man?”

“Because we slept with our sister.”

“Oh yeah,” the disheveled Pound looked down, shamefully. “That part.”

The two looked away, awkwardly. Finally, the Pound who liked to party spoke back up.

“But we love her! Doesn’t that make it all okay?”

Pound’s anxiety shook his head, sadly. “If it was okay, would we be here, having this conversation?”

Pound Cake shook his head at the thought that he’d been struggling with all day.

“If it was okay, why am I so scared?” he whispered to himself yet again. More sweat grew from his forehead.

Pumpkin Cake decided that she’d seen enough, however. Clearly, her brother had no interest in speaking to her. Her bottom lip trembled slightly, but she help her demeanor, refusing to break. At least, refusing to break there.

She climbed the stairs, disappeared into their shared room, and let the streams flow freely. She was surprised that she was so calm, despite it. There were no greedy gulps for air, no sobbing heaves. She didn’t have a desire to throw herself to the floor and wallow in self pity.

No, she laid her head back against the wall, and cried softly.

Outside, it began to rain.

* * *

Despite Pinkie Pie promising the twins a day of rest, the morning hadn’t been calm enough for her to follow through with her words. While Pound had toiled away in the kitchen, mindlessly making more pastries than the bakery had need for, the establishment was still open for business. Pumpkin assisted serving tables, just as interested in staying busy as she was avoiding her brother. They had a hard rush, working quickly until noon, when a sudden storm scared away their lunch rush.

The rain smacked hard against the glass panels as Pound finally sat back, his hooves sore. Before him, eight trays of pastries were ready for the oven.

Pinkie Pie eyed them somewhat disdainfully.

“Wow. Half our flour into ninety-six little triangles of silence.”

Pound didn’t respond to her jab. She snorted, her usually cheerful demeanor being quite tested by the young stallion.

“Can’t wait to throw half of those out in a few days,” she groaned through gritted teeth, desperately willing her son to say something to her.

“Say something to me!” she pleaded, finally snapping. She reached forward and grabbed Pound by the shoulders, shaking him sharply.

He snapped back, eyes shrinking to pin-pricks. His face was frozen in absolute terror, and she could see tears beginning to well in his eyes.

“Why- why does it hurt?” he demanded.

Pinkie Pie stopped shaking her son, surprised by his directly honest answer. She sat down next to him, awkwardly resting on of her hooves on his shoulder, unsure of herself as she attempted a response.

“What do you mean, hurts?” she asked.

“I mean,” Pound sniffled hard, fighting back his tears as hard as he could, “I feel like I messed up! Like I swallowed a pitcher of ice and every breath hurts! I see her and instead of I love you so much, I’m stuck with what have I done!”

Pinkie winced. Of all the reactions she’d been prepared for, she wasn’t expecting this. She loved her son, but knew she would never have all of the answers he was desperately searching for.

So instead, she pulled him close and hugged him. A caring hoof slowly rubbed his back, right between his wings.

“Pound, baby,” she whispered into his ear, softly, “I love you. I love Pumpkin. I hate seeing you this way.”

She pulled away from him, and was relieved to see that as he too pulled away, he was at least looking her in the eye, waiting for her to continue, desperate for what she had to say. It hurt her all the more, knowing she couldn’t satisfy his questions.

“I know this is, er, difficult for you. Imagine how I feel, I’m your mom!” She made a funny noise and mocked bonking herself on the head. “Who in their right mind encourages their children to chase after their feelings for one another? That’s like, a crime in some places!”

Pound looked down, ashamed. Pinkie shook her head, deciding to try a different approach.

“Why do you feel like you messed up?” she asked.

It was a few moments before Pound said anything. The rain outside grew harder, throwing thick droplets against the windows with loud smacks.

Pound did find the answer, eventually.

“I’m scared,” he explained.

There’s an understatement, Pinkie kept the thought to herself, wisely.

“Before, it was just a secret. Nopony got hurt. But now, it’s real. It’s overwhelming. It’s terrifying! Pumpkin is, she was my best friend, and what if I just ruined her life? Ruined our lives?”

“Is that what it is?” Pinkie pried, gently. “Other ponies opinions?”

“No,” Pound sighed dejectedly, “my opinions. I don’t know what I’m doing, ma, and it terrifies me.”

Pinkie gently stroked the back of Pound’s mane.

“Pound, I know you’re scared. I know, sweetie. But Pumpkin is scared too, and you’ve been spending this morning moping about and making her feel like its all her fault!”

Pound groaned before leaning forward, burying his head in Pinkie’s chest.

“I know, and that makes me feel disappointed. Like I should do something to fix it, do something to fix myself! But I’m broken, just feeling miserable, and I can’t ask her to forgive me for that. And then it just hurts more, it’s just a… a...”

“A vicious cycle?” Pinkie offered. Pound nodded against her chest. She could feel the faint wetness of his cheeks against her coat.

“I can’t give you an answer,” Pinkie admitted. She pushed Pound away slightly, a look of growing shock on his face, before lifting up his chin so they were back at eye level.

“But I know a mare who might. And she’s upstairs, fighting just as hard as you to not collapse, to keep herself together, and she needs you. Almost as much as you need her.”

Once again, Pound didn’t say anything. He struggled to find the words not only for the mare in front of him, but for the mare in his heart. He didn’t know the feelings he felt in his chest. He had no idea what they meant, why they were there, anything. All he knew was that they hurt, and they were confusing.

But as Pinkie said, he had to consider the feelings within Pumpkin, as well. The terror he felt? He tired to imagine how she felt in response. She’d been trying to talk with him all morning, yet he’d closed himself off.

He was such a foolish colt.

Finally, he cracked the weakest of grins, his lips trembling.

“Th-thanks, ma,” he breathed. “I, uh. I think I need to talk with Pumpkin.”

Pinkie patted his shoulder, smiling back at him, and let him go.

His legs trembled as he climbed the stairs. His chest was tight. His breath was thing. He felt light headed. He wasn’t ready to do this.

He only imagined how she felt in return, and opened the door to their room.

Pumpkin hadn’t turned on the light, when she’d entered. The overcast outside left little light to shine into their bedroom, leaving it dark. It felt cold, and uninviting.

Pumpkin was sitting next to her bed. Pound saw the outline of a familiar rubber chicken next to her hooves as she gently pushed him beneath her bed.

He heard a sniffle, and he found the strength to rush over to her.

He threw his legs over Pumpkin, and squeezed. Her eyes shot open wide, surprised.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Pumpkin,” he said as he squeezed her tight. “I panicked. For years, I wanted this, wanted you, and when it all happened, I just… thought of all the ways it could go wrong. Convinced myself it already was wrong.”

Pumpkin leaned into his embrace, and wrapped her hooves around him as well.

“You’re a jerk,” she began, a snotty chuckle escaping her. Pound chuckled back, and she rubbed her cheek against, him, enjoying the warmth from his body.

“I was scared too, y’know.” She huffed slightly. “I was terrified. I let you inside of me, in so many ways, and it felt like you were… ashamed of me?”

“No,” Pound breathed back, “I was never ashamed of you. I was ashamed of me-”

“What’s the difference in that?” Pumpkin snapped, pulling away to glower at him. “Ashamed because you committed incest? Where does that leave me? We share the blame on this one, bro. And for you to shut down on me, right when we were supposed to be happy? It just...”

“Sucked,” Pound finished for her, and she leaned back in, nodding.

“Yeah, Pound. It sucked.” She breathed heavily, realizing the steady stream of tears had returned to her face.

“I was scared you regretted it all. Regretted me. That you’d woken up from our dream, and realized it was better just as a fantasy.”

Pound shook his head violently at that.

“No, never.” It was his turn to huff. “It was mostly anxiety. I didn’t know how to handle it, and I just wanted to run away from it. But that shouldn’t have involved running away from you.”

“You’re right, it shouldn’t have,” she agreed grumpily. Pound felt a twinge of shame rush through him, knowing it was the least that he deserved.

“But,” she continued, “I knew what I got myself into. And unlike you, I never make mistakes.”

Pound reeled back, an incredulous look forming across his face before he stopped. Pumpkin had a naughty, knowing grin plastered across her lips.

He sneered, then laughed.

“Very funny,” he retorted. Pumpkin leaned back forward, gathering as much of him as she could within her legs.

“You deserved that, you butt,” she shot back. He simply nodded gently.

They stayed like that, for a while. They listened to each others heart beats. They listened to the downpour as it grew heavier beyond their home. They listened to their breaths, as they slowly synchronized with each other.

“I love you,” Pound finally admitted.

“I’m glad you came to that conclusion,” Pumpkin teased, before she quickly added, “and I love you too. Really.”

Pound looked off over her shoulder, mind wandering.

“I want to be with you,” Pound continued, “but I’m scared. I’ve always been scared, but this is so much worse. I don’t want to do this again, but… what if I’m not strong enough to come back again? What if I just keep running and can’t turn back around?”

Pumpkin leaned back away, taking in Pound’s face. Even in the pale light, she could see the concern, clear as day, eating away at him. He was petrified, almost more so than he’d appeared at any point that day.

She leaned forward and gently rubbed her lips against his. She felt the warmth of his mouth, the tremble of his touch.

He pushed back, softly. A slight breath escaped his mouth, but he refused to break contact. She smiled, satisfied. She could feel his trembles, feel how pent up and anxious he was. And then like that, she felt him slowly calm.

Releasing the kiss, she looked back. He was still scared, still terrified. He would always be, as long as he was her brother.

She took his hoof and raised it up, placing it firmly against her chest.

“If you’re scared, then you have to trust that I’ll come after you. That I’ll be there for you. That I’ll always be patient, and love you for who you are, as long as you let me be here for you.”

Pound blinked, and in the dim light she definitely saw more tears forming, thick streams spilling from his eyes. She felt herself join him.

“Can you do that Pound? Please, can you promise me?”

Pound nodded, and she kissed him once more. There was no desperation as their lips made contact, neither of them pushing any further. They both savored the moment, drinking in the other, hoping the moment could never end, would never end.

Finally, though, they broke away. Pound opened his eyes, and for a moment, he was no longer afraid as he gazed lovingly over the mare before him.

No, that wasn’t entirely true. He was still afraid. He was still so very, terrifyingly, desperately afraid.

But he clutched her hoof, and she squeezed his back.

Together, wordlessly, they pulled themselves up into her bed. Lying on his side, he leaned his head forward, into her chest. She curled up around him, stroking his mane gently.

“Is it all going to get better?” he asked. His voice was weak, and desperate, as he croaked out his fears. “Can we make it work?”

This time, it was Pumpkin who didn’t have an answer. She continued stroking his mane, running the tips of her hooves slowly through his thick, brown hair.

She wanted to say yes. She wanted to answer him immediately, reassuringly. She wanted to chase his fears away, far away so they could never return, so they would be happy.

She knew that wouldn’t be the case. She knew it might never be the case. As long as they were together, this was going to be a struggle. He was going to shiver, and tremble, and she was going to have to slow down, and take her time. She was going to have to grow with him just as much as he grew with her.

She nuzzled the top of his head. Despite the hurdles ahead of her, ahead of them, she knew her answer though, despite the fears. The fears she was beginning to understand, no less.

“As long as we stay together, we’ll make it. I swear to you, we’ll make it.”

Outside, the rain poured.