Moments To Hours

Jul 23rd, 2020
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  1. Moments To Hours
  2. By Drachronic
  4. It has been three days since the world shattered.
  6. It was loud, but only compared to how quiet it had been before. Countless youtube videos had been posted, all the same thing: phones pointed at the sky as it screamed. Stars, moon, sun and all slowly, scientifically, terrifyingly leaked as space folded into what some scientists referred to as a hecatommyriagon. And as soon as it happened it was over, all of humanity talking and babbling about it, all the same question: what happened?
  8. In the words of one college senior who had just come up gasping for air after a massive bong rip: “It was like the vacuum of space ran over the fabric of the universe, and like, totally fucked up the fabric.”
  12. You nod, leaning back into your beanbag. “That’s a good way to put it, I guess.” You reach out for the bag of chips next to you and pop a handful into your mouth. “Wish we knew what happened for sure, though.”
  14. Your buddy scoffs. “They’re never gonna let us know. Not in a million years. You saw how fucking crazy everybody went. They’re gonna lock this shit in the vault where they keep the ark of the covenant and like, Jimmy Hoffa’s teeth and shit.”
  16. You snort, red eyes blearily staring at your roommate. “Maybe that’s what caused it. Someone spilled the holy grail onto the book of fate or something.” You roll your eyes. “Or maybe the simulation we’re all in had a glitch.”
  18. He leans in. “Dude, what if that’s actually what happened?”
  20. “I was joking, Sean.” You take this opportunity to grab some more chips. “It’s probably some dumb physics thing.”
  22. “Orrrrrr it’s something cool. Something mystical.” He throws his arms up and does jazz hands. “You gotta think of it this way. You’re lucky enough to see this for yourself! What about all the people who’re like, in comas right now!”
  24. You wince. “I don’t wanna think about that stuff right now, man.”
  26. Sean sets his bong down and hikes his legs onto the bed. “Just sayin, dude. Could be a lot worse.”
  28. “Yeah, well. I’m not gonna think about any of that stuff till we’re out of weed.” You roll over onto the floor, getting onto your feet. “I’m going to the bathroom. Next episode when I get back?”
  30. Sean nods. “Sure thing.”
  32. You slouch towards the back of the small apartment, scratching your head as you yawn. When all this shook down, you were at Sean’s apartment. You both called it the pit because it was a little one bedroom basement-level affair not too far from downtown, and because the dude who had lived here before had a business selling scented candles over the internet. Which sounds nice, but all those fragrances together had the same profile as dollar-store deodorant.
  34. Hence, the pit.
  36. You make a sharp left just past the fridge and step into the bathroom. Shutting the door, you turn and sit down on the lid of the toilet. You didn’t want to show it in front of Sean, but..you were being outsmoked. A moment to breathe, and then…
  38. The thought trails off as you stare at the towel rack. It was..flickering. To be more precise, Sean’s towel (a giant oversized beach towel, plastered with the likeness of Marilyn Monroe) was changing, flickering from Marilyn to blue to a tattered rag to-
  40. You tear your eyes away and stand up. “Sean?”
  42. Nothing.
  44. You swallow, heart thumping faster as you turn. Bathrooms were the safest place in a tornado, right? You move towards the tub before something in the mirror catches your eye. You pause, mouth agape.
  46. It’s the back of your head.
  48. Your heart stops in your throat and you whip around, half expecting someone or something to be there, but there’s only the bathroom door, rattling and changing finishes from peeling white paint to sleek paneled rosewood-
  50. You yell out and dive for the bathtub, the curtain ripping and falling down on top of you. Whatever was happening, you didn’t want any part of it. You roll over, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel the floor lurch and give out beneath you.
  56. You startle awake, hands gripping the side of the...tub? Your fingers run along the smooth plastic surface. Your head is still fuzzy, but you’re pretty sure Sean just had a cast iron tub, that’s why he always took showers at your place- and then it hits you like a bag of bricks. The world just ended again.
  58. “Sean?” You call out, slowly sitting up. “Hey Sean!! Are you okay!?”
  60. There’s no reply, so you struggle into a sitting position, rolling up the shower curtain and setting it off to the side. Clambering out, you freeze as you look out at the bathroom. It’s… far too nice.
  62. Noticeably, the peeling laminate flooring from the 70’s was now smooth grey slate that felt cool enough to be real stone. Your eyes travel upwards, following the floor as it meets the wall, transitioning into beautiful, natural wood. The whole room was bigger, impossibly so. The beat up sink and mirror was now a lavish, floating vanity, with bright white fluffy towels tucked neatly underneath.
  64. You almost expect to see a bathroom attendant lurking in the corner, ready to assault you with mints and gum.
  66. “Sean?” Your voice is colored with worry, the newly clean environment not helping. You take a moment, trying to steady your breathing. Wherever this is, you can probably explain everything. It’s not like this happened to just you. Your stomach growls loudly, almost in agreement. You roll your eyes, putting a hand on it. It figures that you’d have the munchies, now of all times.
  68. You take a deep breath and open the door to the bathroom, stepping out into the hallway. Whereas before, the bathroom was immediately by the kitchen, this bathroom opens out into a long hall, walls covered with art and photographs. You’re far too high for this. You take a deep breath, proceeding further out into the apartment. It takes you a few seconds to realize that some of these pictures have you in them.
  70. Pausing, you stare, mouth agape. That’s you, and Sean is there. You’re both raising glasses from the back of a cruise ship, the dark waters below contrasting nicely with the unnatural scrubbed white of the railing. You stare at it, unnerved. You and Sean never went on a cruise together, you’d remember something as expensive as that.
  72. You shake your head and force your legs to move again. Whatever is going on, it’s worse than last time. At least you didn’t wake up in the middle of the saharan desert, you muse to yourself. Or out in the middle of the ocean. Or back in the middle ages.
  73. You let out a snort, coming out of the hallway. The living room is big, warm natural light coming through the french doors to some kind of yard. You’re definitely not in the pit, anymore. If you could just find someone to explain to-
  75. “What’s so funny?”
  77. The voice is familiar, but you can’t quite place it. Almost as if you’re in slow motion, your eyes swivel to your left, towards an open doorway where… where….
  79. You blink. “Sorry?”
  81. Standing in the doorway to what presumably is a bedroom looms a horse… creature. It stands on two legs, glossy black coat backlit by the sun streaming through a window. You haplessly notice that it’s wearing underarmour and gym pants. Clothes.
  83. It looks at you, as if sizing you up. You stare. It’s… wearing clothes…
  85. “You came outta the hallway giggling to yourself.” The… horse… man… thing says, leaning against the doorframe, scratching its muzzle, where you notice a splash of white fur. “You know me, man, I hate not being part of a good joke.”
  87. Wait. No. That’s… that’s Sean. That’s Sean's voice coming from that thing.
  89. “You’re a horse,” you state dumbly. The sentence hangs in the air, almost an accusation.
  91. The horse blinks, before letting out a soft snort. “Oh, right. You’re high.” He grins. “I love it when you’re like this. You laugh at anything.” He crosses his arms, staring at you down his long muzzle. “Snoochie boochies.”
  93. It’s almost like he’s *daring* you to not crack up. The absurdity of the situation, the whole thing- the walking talking horse, the world ending, the world ending *again,* and the fact that you’re still high, on top of that… you can’t help yourself. You double over, wheezing, body wracking with uncontrollable laughter. Leaning against a wall, you totally lose your shit.
  95. You faintly hear the telltale sounds of a horse’s hooves clip clopping across the hardwood floor, before a big, warm hand slaps across your back. “Cmon, bro, pull yourself together. I’ve got a training session in half an hour.”
  97. This doesn’t help the situation, as you splutter out another round of laughter. “F-for what? Your next gymkhana?” You howl, sliding down against the wall, sitting on the floor.
  99. The horse glares. “No, dumbass, my personal trainer. The one you’ve had eyes on since I set up the home gym.”
  101. You shake your head, still shuddering. “I’m not gay, dude.” The urgency that you felt back in the bathtub is starting to fade, the mariuana helping to ease your sudden change in scenery. “And you’re not a horse. Listen, there was another-”
  103. “And I’m going to guess you’re not going to join me this time, either.” The horse barrels over your sentence, talking over you. “Even if it makes total sense to do so.” He holds out a hand, fingernails black and hard. “C’mon. Back to your room.”
  105. You stare at the hand. You’re way too high for this. For now… just go with it. You nod and let him help you up.
  111. “And that was the last thing I remember. You turning back to the tv, and as soon as I got in the bathroom, everything changed.”
  113. You’re sitting at the kitchen table with Sean, trying to explain to him what you’ve been through. It’s been slow going, mostly because you keep getting distracted by the giant horse sitting across from you claiming that the apocalypse never happened.
  115. “So you’re saying.” The horse states, opening a plastic shaker bottle. “That the sky freaked out. Everyone started panicking. And you and I… had a smokeout?”
  117. You nod, watching him unscrew the cap on a huge container of protein powder. “Yeah. It sounds dumb, but when everyone’s freaking out like that, what were we supposed to do? It made sense to just wait for order.”
  119. “And I was a human.”
  121. You sigh. “Yes. You were a human. You have always been a human until yesterday. You had brown hair and zero fur and you did the truffle shuffle to get us to go to Taco bell at three in the morning once.”
  123. The horse snorts, ears swiveling. “I’d never do the truffle shuffle.” He gets up, going over to the sink. “Especially not for taco bell. Doesn’t fit in my meal prep.”
  125. He sticks the plastic tumbler under the faucet. “Besides. I graduated college like, five years ago. If you’re gonna try and wind me up at least make it believable.”
  127. You run your hand through your hair, frustrated. “If you graduated five years ago that means it’s 2020. It’s not.”
  129. The horse side eyes you. “Uh. yeah, it is, actually.”
  131. “Look, I can prove it to you,” you say, pulling out your wallet. “Look at the expiration date.” you slap it down on the table.
  133. Sean walks back over, tail swishing as he screws the cap onto his shake. “All I see is that you're five years out from driving a car, dude. Why’d you let it expire?”
  135. You snatch it back, face reddening. “I didn’t, that’s the point.”
  137. Before Sean can get a reply in, you gasp, slapping your hand down on the table. “I can prove it! I’ve got proof!”
  139. You make a mad dash out of the kitchen, rounding the corner. The hallway picture. That can explain everything. You grab it off the wall, turning on your heel to shove the proof in his face, when you notice something.
  141. There’s you, smiling at the camera, drink held out. Next to you, a black horse in swim trunks is doing the same, toned body leaning against the railing.
  143. You shake your head, staring at the picture. This wasn’t...that…
  145. You hear Sean come up to you. “I don’t get it,” you mumble. “You were… Both of us.”
  147. Sean leans in, looking. “Oh, the cruise?”
  149. You look up at him, lost.
  151. “We did that right after college, remember? When you...”
  153. His voice gets quieter and quieter, and it slowly dawns on you that you’re trying to read his lips. It’s almost as if someone had been lowering the volume on him. The colors in the room are getting brighter and brighter, you realize, and everything is saturating. You cover your eyes, and then…
  155. Quiet.
  157. You open them. You’re alone in the hallway now, still gripping the picture. You look down at it, breathing heavily.
  159. “What… ”
  161. The ship is the same. The horse next to you is the same, except for the fact that he should be human. And you..
  163. You bring the picture up closer.
  165. Is that…
  167. You bring a hand to where your ears should be, and are met with a brushing of soft fur.
  169. Donkey ears. You’ve got donkey ears.
  171. Heart thudding in your chest, you look up as you hear Sean’s hooves make their way down the hallway. You blink, trying to make sense of it all.
  173. “Getting sentimental, babe?”
  175. You feel him draw up in front of you as he puts a meaty hand on your shoulder.
  177. “Which one you looking at?” The horse cranes his head in, and you look up at him, eyes wide.
  179. He’s bigger. That’s the only way you can explain it. He looks as if he’s been spending every waking moment in the gym. He’s wearing a tank top, now, thick arms gently taking the picture frame away from you as he straightens out. His shirt is tight, awfully tight against his chest, and as your gaze lowers you notice he’s wearing some kind of skintight black leggings underneath his gym shorts that throw the muscles in his legs into sharp relief.
  181. “Oh yeah! Europe trip after college!” His tail swishes happily, and you notice that his ass has filled out, a lot...
  183. You squeeze your eyes shut. What the hell was that thought?
  185. He puts a bulky arm around you and leads you back to the kitchen. “What was that, ten years ago now? Time flies..”
  187. You automatically sit back down at the table, feeling at your ears.
  189. “Ten?” you respond, watching the big guy settle into the chair opposite you.
  191. “Yeah, ten. Holy shit. We weren’t even dating back then.” he studies the picture some more. “I wish I had started bodybuilding back then…”
  193. You gawk, ears momentarily forgotten. “Dating??”
  195. He snorts, smugly. “Yeah. Guess you couldn’t resist when I started bulking up.” He flexes, bringing his arms and up striking a pose. He even winks at you. “Biceps that broke the camel’s back, I think you said… ”
  197. You stare at his straining shirt, at a loss for words. Your mind whizzes, trying to process all this and a new reality at the same time.
  199. Sean and you… dating? With… each other? Kissing!?
  201. “Course,” Sean continues, lowering his arms. “I always suspected you had the hots for me. You were always coming over to the pit. Remember?”
  203. You do, in fact, remember. You swallow, trying to find the words. “You always had the best weed, though.”
  205. Sean grins, running his hand through his mane. “Whaddaya mean, ‘had’? I still do!” He blinks at you and leans in. “And guessin by the expression on your face… you got a head start.” he chuckles. You open your mouth to protest, to explain yourself, but are interrupted by your stomach growling, a loud, long, hungry sound that fills the room.
  207. He grins. “Caught you. Lucky for you, I know you well enough by now to plan for exactly this situation.”
  209. The horse gets up from his chair, and you watch his ass as he makes his way to the fridge. “I got my meal prep,” Sean mutters, leaning into the fridge. You swallow, eyes following the long horse tail as it swishes left and right. Your body buzzes, pleasantly, and you find yourself reaching down, sliding your hand down your pants to touch your dick as you stare at the massive rump before you.
  211. Your hand makes contact and you jump, catching yourself, and you pull your hand away like you’d been shocked. Sean straightens back up, turning around with a tupperware. “But since I know you so, so well, my dear boyfriend, I went ahead and got you some fast food on the way home.”
  213. Walking behind your chair, he hands you the container before leaning in your ear, lipping at it.
  215. “And you can do whatever you want, my lazy donk,” he whispers, voice low and husky. You shudder, not just at his tone, but at the almost sixth-sense energy from the sheer physicality that he’s bringing, the massive horse leaning over you, rubbing at your sides with his meaty hands. You reach up to push his hand away, and he grabs it, holding it as he leans in to kiss you on the cheek.
  217. The tingling running over your body increases, suddenly, and it feels like a fresh hit off a joint, a warmth blooming in your stomach, spreading outward. Your cock pulses, trapped against your jeans, and you lean back, head swimming again. There’s no way you can get back, you reason to yourself. It’s not like there’s a how-to guide you can follow to changing your reality. Maybe you should settle into this. Sean’s strong, he’s responsible, he’s cute…
  219. The rumble of his chest brings you back down into the present. “Of course, when you’re done with that, you’re joining me in the gym.”
  221. Your ears fold back at the prospect of exercise. He laughs, tussling your hair. “C'mon. It’s friday. We eat in the bedroom tonight.”
  225. For some reason, you had expected to be whisked off again, before you made it into bed with Sean. But that wasn’t the case, and as you stand there, watching him peel off his shirt and flexing for you, a stray thought floats across your mind.
  227. It really would be nice, staying here.
  229. You blink, trying to will it away, but this one stays, stubborn, in the back of your mind. You busy yourself climbing into bed, pulling back the sheets (so soft) and the comforter (so thick) and settling in, feeling the bed creak as Sean does the same beside you, with the notable exception that Sean is shirtless and you’re still in your clothes.
  231. “So, uh, about dinner,” you begin, before he reaches down and grabs at a paper bag. He tosses it onto your lap, before getting his own tupperware. “I got you burgers,” he says, digging into his chicken. “I figured you wouldn’t mind too much.”
  233. Your stomach growls again, and you thank Sean profusely, indicating that no, of course you didn’t mind at all. Burgers are your favorite, you add, relaxing a bit as you muse with him about having chicken with him tomorrow, all the while feeling more and more comfortable. All of this… Is starting to feel like home. Like this is routine.
  235. Until you open the bag, of course.
  237. You’re hit with a wall of what you can only describe as deliciousness, the smell of grilled meat, fried potatoes, and sauteed onions filling your nostrils. Your mouth waters, and you lick your lips, not noticing that your tongue can reach farther, or that your nose is a little bit wider. You stick your face in the bag, savoring the ambience of fast food and greasy paper.
  239. Your ears twitch as you feel Sean run his hand down your back. “In that mood tonight?” he asks softly. You bring your head back up as you feel his hand pull away, leaving you blinking. “What mood?”
  241. He ignores you, opening a drawer in his nightstand and drawing out a large, nylon bag. “You know.” He shakes it. “Feedbag mood.”
  243. You blink, at a loss for words. Feedbag mood? What the hell is a feedbag mood? Unfortunately, while you’re debating internally on how to address this, Sean grabs the bag of food and unceremoniously dumps it all into the bag, leaving only food wrappers behind.
  245. You snort, indignantly, but Sean takes it as a sign of approval. Reaching over your head, he snaps the bag in place. You open your mouth, to ask him to kindly go fuck himself, but that smell permeates your senses, only this time it’s one hundred times worse. You stare at him, eyes peeking out from behind the thick cloth.
  246. He smirks. “You’re welcome. Now eat, before it gets all cold.”
  248. You weigh your options. You can either eat out of the bag, or go hungry for a night. Not to mention you wouldn’t be able to explain being this fussy to Sean, and you can’t count on whatever natural force is jerking you around to get you out of this situation, or worse, place you in a future where you and Sean are fighting.
  250. You resign yourself, digging forwards into the feedbag and gingerly taking what feels like french fries into your maw. Your eyes widen as they hit your tongue, that warm, familiar warmth flooding your body. The fries are good, fresh and crunchy on the outside, with a fluffy, potato-ey inside. You chew, feeling Sean's hand return to your back, running up and down your neck, his hardened nails running through the bristling fur sprouting down your spine while you swallow, rummaging about for more food.
  252. “That’s it,” Sean murmurs, slowly massaging you. Slowly, his other hand reaches down, slipping into his pants, fondling at his sheath. He huffs, coaxing his dick out from under the sheets. The mottled pink and black shaft throbs, slowly lifting into the air. He grips it, shooting you a sidelong glance as you grunt and munch, ears perked forward. “Gods,” he mutters, his muscled chest shuddering as he tries to steady his breathing.
  254. For the most part, you don’t pay attention to what Sean is doing. You hunch forwards, lipping at a burger as you push into your feedbag. This is the best meal you’ve ever had, hands down. You close your eyes and let the warm fuzziness wash over you. You curl your tongue out, dragging a burger to your maw and biting down, savoring the juices as you chew, noisily. You feel nice, and your cock responds in kind, brushing against the confines of your jeans. You don’t notice as your shirt begins to ride up, a soft belly beginning to push out from your frame.
  256. You lean forwards to get a better angle, and your back pops a few times, spine lengthening as a ropy tail pushes against the seat of your jeans. You snort in discomfort, wriggling your rump around to try and get comfortable. Grey fur pokes up from your waistband as you do so, your asscheeks swell as they slowly grow bigger. Rounder. Only for your ass to suddenly be thrown into sharp relief as any slack in your pants is stretched to its outer limits.
  258. Some distant part of your mind is screaming at you, telling you there’s something wrong. You snrt, your tongue thickening as you stretch to lap up a puddle of special sauce. Your jeans are cutting into your waist, your new thicker hips almost too much to contain. You bring your hands down to your zipper, clumsily fumbling with the button. The bag obscures your vision, so you don’t notice your fingers bloating, or your nails thickening and getting rough, looking exactly the same as Sean’s own hoof-tipped fingers. They make a small tapping noise as you scrabble with the button, starting to huff with annoyance as you fail to do this simple task.
  260. “Here, let me,” Sean mutters, leaning over and popping the button with practiced ease. You sigh in relief, the pressure finally gone. That must have been what was wrong, anyways. Now you can eat in peace. You press your thick hands up to your face, mashing the bag against your lips. You don’t notice Sean has his hand resting lightly on your crotch, nor do you notice his other hand pumping up and down his member. In fact, you entirely miss the fact that by all accounts, you should have finished eating a while ago, at the rate you're going. And yet, there always seems to be another burger you discover, a stray fry turning into two. Or ten or twenty.
  262. Counting em doesn’t matter. All you care about is eating. Engorging yourself, with this heavy bag strapped to your mouth.
  264. You put your hand to your gut, leaning back now that you’re more comfortable. You run your hand through the fuzzy fur, enjoying the double hit of good food and good substance. You heft it, slipping your hand under the curve of fat and squeezing. Chewing. Swallowing. Mmf. Your stomach gurgles as it pushes out more, thick folds of fat appearing on your frame. Your ears perk up at the sound of fabric ripping; the sleeves of your shirt giving up as your thick arms, newly heavy with fat, rip out of your old t-shirt as you chew.
  266. Sean huffs, slowly massaging your bulge. Impatient, he pulls down at your underwear, freeing your growing cock from its confines. It matches his, the mottled flesh spilling out from your crotch, throbbing as it meets the cool apartment air. Sean glances at you, watching you as you swell, the muscle bound horse slowly bringing a hand to your cock.
  268. “Goddamn,” he mutters, squeezing at it. You bray in response, lightly kicking a hoof. He slowly begins to work your shaft, adjusting his position until he’s on the opposite end of you, staring you down. “Watching you do this…I don’t know what it is, but it’s like I get to eat with you. ‘Cept you get all the calories and I get all the pleasure…” he snorts, bringing a hand up to squeeze at a pec. He shudders, feeling at his muscles as he watches your belly wobble. Body stretching to its limits, as you feast. “It just makes me wanna work out more…” he trails off, before leaning down and taking your cock into his mouth.
  270. You let out a loud HAWWW, the feeling of his warm mouth sending you into overdrive. You bring your hands down from your gut, fingers curling in his mane as he slurps and sucks at your cock. You snort, running your thick tongue over your flattened teeth before taking another bite. Your maw is stuffed to its limits as you feel his powerful maw sucking greedily at your cock.
  272. You grip at his head, letting your hand bob along with his pretty mane. Sean’s frame is bulking, too, but he’s taking the opposite course of you. You watch as his back muscles thicken, swollen ridges appearing as his whole chest pushes out. He shudders, pushing up so he can lean on a forearm now bulging with hundreds of tiny veins. His cock almost seems to be getting smaller, but it’s a trick of perspective, as his thighs are getting bigger and bigger. His tail swishes over his rump as he bulks, his traps swelling, restricting his head movements with every passing moment.
  274. You two stay like this for a while, the room quiet save for soft snorts and the rustle of bedsheets. You don’t talk, instead both opting to drink in the sight of the other. He runs his hands along your legs, and you reach down and feel at his shoulder, the firm muscle sending shivers down your spine.
  276. Still, you chew. Swallowing. Heavy snorts, followed by another gurgle from your stomach. The bed creaks below your growing forms, eyes wide as you succumb to the pleasures around you.
  278. You feel yourself edging closer, beginning to buck into his maw. “Holy shit, Sean,” you mutter, your cheeks getting rounder. You try to adjust, putting a hand under your heft to lift yourself up, only for your jeans to rip. Seams split down your thighs as doughy grey fur pushes out. You let out a soft haww at the loud sound, cheeks flush with embarrassment. This just seems to push Sean on to greater heights. His slick, warm maw keeps sliding down on your donkey cock, the bodybuilder horse getting closer and closer to deepthroating you with each passing second. You shudder, the feedbag seemingly refilling once more. You can’t take much more of this-
  280. Sean deepthroats you, the muscles in his arms and back bulging as if he was doing a pushup. You bray, cock seizing as you bite down on another burger, warm spunk flooding the horses maw. He draws back, wasting no time as he grips his own equine member, staring down as you finish your meal. He flexes with one arm, the muscles bulking, hand almost unable to touch his shoulder, and that’s enough to send him over the edge, warm seed splashing over your stomach and chest, his cock unloading on your new, softer form.
  282. You bring up a hand to wipe some off, brushing against your newfound moobs. Your head is spinning, body awash in new sensations. Your ears are ringing, heart thumping in your chest, and your muzzle somehow still full of burger. You look at Sean, and he’s saying something, rubbing at your hips, but you can’t quite make out what it is. You huff, putting a hand on your massive belly as you watch the ceiling light get blindingly bright. You close your eyes, bringing a thick, hooved hand to your eyes.
  286. You open your eyes, squinting as the light fades. You exhale, and are immediately aware that there’s something big and grey in your vision. You reach up, to try and brush it away, but you only end up poking yourself in the snout instead. Snorting in surprise, and also in a little bit of pain, you reach up again and press your blocky fingertips against it.
  288. Taking your time, you feel almost every inch of it in disbelief. Your fingers travel down its length, pausing as you reach your thick snout. Your nostrils are so much wider now, and as you drag your hand down to your thick, almost rubbery lips, you can’t help but think of that one scene in pinocchio.
  290. Almost out of instinct, you shake your head, ears flopping. If the world is ending, there’s worse ways to go, you muse to yourself. You let your hand fall, and to your surprise, it doesn’t go very far before landing on your gut. You snort in surprise, looking down and letting out a soft “hawww” in disbelief.
  292. The slim, stoner body you had only yesterday is gone. Instead, it’s been replaced by layers of heft and pudge, wrapped up in thick donkey hide. Your tail flicks, and you bring your hands down to your gut, lifting it up and letting it slosh back down into place. Running your tongue along your thick, blocky teeth, you look around, hoping in vain someone will appear and tell you this is all a bad dream.
  294. You’re in the hallway outside the bathroom again, but there’s a lot more pictures on the wall than before. You take a step, and wince as your hooves make a clip-clopping sound on the hardwood floor. Your thighs are rubbing against each other with every step you take, and the way your whole body almost bounces as you walk is disconcerting.
  296. A lot of these pictures are of people you don’t know, but the one thing they do have in common is that there’s no humans in them. Your brow wrinkles as you process this, eyes searching the frames for some semblance of familiarity. There’s cows, elephants, dogs, birds… no humans. Slowing, you reach the frame that you know contains the picture of you and Sean on the cruise ship. You know what to expect, deep down, but it still hits you hard when you see it.
  298. There’s Sean, in all his horsey glory, before he entered his bodybuilding phase. And next to him is you, or at least what you’ve become. A donkey, ears standing tall, a grin stretched across your wide muzzle. There’s no hint of the weight you carry on you now, but as you squint, you swear you can see a bit of tum sticking out from under your shirt.
  300. Your nose itches, and without thinking, you stick out your thick, slimy donkey tongue, pressing it up against your snout. It’s long enough to root around in your nose, extracting the offending material and slurping it back down into your maw. Your eyes widen, as you realize what you just did. When did-
  302. “Dude, gross.”
  304. You turn, and Sean is there, leaning against the opposite wall. When did he sneak up on you like that?
  306. “You should know by now that you can’t hide from me.” He pushes off the wall, body filling the hallway. He saunters up, tail swishing. “Ten years of marriage and you still act like an ass.” he chuckles at his own joke, drawing up before you. You stare at his chest, eyes wide. He… for some reason, he doesn’t look as big as he had gotten last night, when things got all crazy. Why did the changes only stick to you?
  308. He snorts, bringing a hand to your chin. Lifting your muzzle up, his dark eyes meet your own. You notice now that his black fur around his muzzle is peppered with grey hairs, and the fur itself is lighter, the light bouncing off the blackness instead of almost being absorbed into it like before. How… how much time has passed? What year is it?
  310. He leans in, kissing you. Your body automatically pushes forward, tongue pressing against his lips until he opens, the two of you sharing a french kiss as he grips your hefty ass in one of his hands. You feel the heat radiating off of his body, the horse still massive enough to dwarf you completely.
  312. He draws back, a smile on his face. “What are you doing hanging out in the hallway anyways?”
  314. “I...I was just looking at the pictures.” You gesture behind you. “Remember college cruise 2015?”
  316. He nods, sliding a hand along your side. “World was a lot simpler. ‘Course, that's cause I was an idiot back then, too.” You shudder at his touch, trying to think of the words you want to say. “It still feels like yesterday,” you reply, running your hands along his forearms. “Crazy to think that was twenty years ago.”
  318. He snorts, giving your ass a final squeeze before stepping back. “Get it together, old man. 2015 was at least twenty five years ago.” He pauses, considering. “Or thirty. Either way, I got my aarp card in the mail today so I don't wanna talk about age.” he pokes at you in the chest. “You’ll feel the same way when yours gets here. You were just lucky with your winter birthday.”
  320. Your cheeks flush. “Yeah, but winter birthdays mean less presents.”
  322. He takes your hand, guiding you into the kitchen. “Yeah, but also, the presents are better now.”
  324. With no choice left, you follow, head spinning. If its been… you shudder, not wanting to think about the missing gap in your life.
  326. Sitting down at the table, you try to get comfortable as he crosses to the fridge.You tug your shirt down over your belly, your bigger rump hanging off both sides of the chair. He pulls out a paper bag and clops back over to you, setting it down on the table. “I’ve been thinking about this all night,” he says, pulling out two burgers. He hands one to you and starts peeling the paper wrapping off of the other one.
  328. You stare, trying to process. “Aren’t you doing chicken meal prep and all that stuff?” Looking down, you stare at the cold burger. “And aren’t we going to heat these up?”
  330. Despite last night, despite everything, it still looks good. You pick it up, peeling the wax paper off of it, revealing the thin brown paper holding it together, wet with grease and cheese.
  332. Sean takes a bite, raising a finger. “Two pointsch.” He chews, letting out a nicker of enjoyment. “Cold burgers from this place are life’s greatest secret.” Swallowing, he sets his burger down, reaching for a napkin. “And two, you know I don’t go for that kinda thing anymore.”
  334. Pausing in your unwrapping, you look at him. “You don’t?”
  336. He shakes his head, wiping his muzzle. “Nah. I know it’s hard to believe, but I reached a point where I was happy with how big I was.” He takes another bite out of the burger. “Now I’m justh tryin to wind down and enjoy myself with my husband.” He flexes, winking at you. “Course, I’m still gonna maintain. But no more chasing after the gains fairy.”
  338. Thinking back, you wonder what you saw last night. Was that some vision of Sean in the future, if he kept chasing after gains? Or did that happen, and now that’s in the past? You furrow your brow, and take a bite out of the cold burger.
  340. It’s delicious, as always, but as you bite into it you can’t help but feel your gut pressing into the table, and the way your shirt stretches across your expansive chest. You chew slowly, trying not to think too much about what’s happening. Sean reaches across the table, taking your hand in his.
  342. “Hey,” the horse says softly. “I love you.”
  344. You look into his earnest eyes, and for a moment your brain clears, worries melting away. You know exactly what to say next.
  346. “I love you too, Sean.”
  348. You squeeze his hand and he squeezes back, the kitchen silent. You look out the window, watching the light from the afternoon sun get brighter and brighter. Another skip. You sigh, tearing your eyes away from it. You look back at Sean, your husband, and kiss him as you’re both engulfed in bright white light.
  352. “Aaand..cheese!”
  354. The light fades, your eyes shooting open. Something’s different. Well, something’s always been different, but this time the difference is so different it’s distressing. Your muzzle is still pressed against Sean’s.
  356. Sean pulls back, laughing, “Whoah, dude, careful. People might think you’re into me or something.”
  358. He’s skinny. You’re skinny. You look out at the deck of the cruise ship, watching the ship's photographer, a big elephant in a nice suit, amble his way over to a new group of passengers. You bring a hand to your muzzle, feeling at the grey fur. It’s still there, but… this feels different. Looking up, you stare at the sky. Normal.
  360. Swallowing, you look at Sean. “I am into you.”
  362. His eyes widen, muzzle hanging open. “Dude. What? But… But you’re not gay.”
  364. You scratch at the back of your head, fingers running through your bristly mane as you look at the deck. “Yeah, I am. Just… closeted.” You look back up at him. “Let’s go on a date.”
  366. He closes his mouth, eyes brightening. “Holy shit. Best cruise ever.” he wraps an arm across your shoulders, the two of you heading back into the ship. “You’d better not be fucking with me, dude.”
  368. You smile, letting him guide you. “I promise I’m not fucking with you. But maybe if the date goes well...”
  370. Sean nickers, slapping you on the shoulder. “Don’t put the horse before the cart, bro.” He winks at you.
  372. As the two of you disappear into the ship, you idly wonder if you should tell him about working out together.
  376. Hey, thanks for reading this story! If you liked it, feel free to shoot me a comment on my fa page anytime, even if it’s been years!
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