The Family Cygnet

He slept late again, his night plagued by strange dreams of Sombra of all things. When he wasn’t harassed by nightmares of when the evil warlock had left him helpless, he was caught off guard by surprisingly obscene dreams about his sister.

Just his sister.

The erection he’d woken up with in the early hours of morning hadn’t gone away on its own. He’d had to manage it himself. And he’d managed it with the same dream-like fantasy that had awakened it.

His hooves shook as he made his way to the bathroom to clean himself up. He had felt nostalgically euphoric from the act, like a colt masturbating in his room. Which, he supposed, was exactly what he had been. The only wrinkle in his early morning adventure was that the bathroom was completely devoid of towels to dry himself off with after he washed. No hoof towels, no display towels, and no bath towels in the cabinets.

Grumbling, he’d had to dry himself with a decorative cloth for Hearth’s Warming that was tucked in the top corner of the cabinet. He had cleaned himself with water, but the act of drying off with the the festive tablecloth still felt dirty. It wasn’t like anypony was going to use it for anything, as it had been jammed in the back of the cabinet—probably for months now—but he had just wiped off his… goo.

Even so, after he took care of all that, he’d managed to fall back asleep.

And then, like the worst and most miserable time travel possible, it was late morning. His sleep had been mostly dreamless after that, but the black void had left him feeling exhausted.

And once again, he’d missed everypony. Sighing, he decided to stay close to the house, to be home when they returned. Then he remembered his old O&O books, and wondered if they were still in his old closet.

They were, and for the day he pretended he was a colt again, slowly digging through the nostalgic piles of books. They, at least, hadn’t changed at all.