1 Ezra-Oliver

September

"Oh I see."

His tongue glazed over his teeth as he watched the other eat, just barley chewing his food as he ate rapidly. Ezra stopped for a moment, "Sorry am I being a bother?"

He shook his head, "No, it's just that we're out of meat now. We'll have to go to the market." A period of silence went on between them, "And detergent..maybe some new sheets too." Oliver finished his statement. "Oh. I uh..I'm sorry."

Oliver chuckled, smiling at the other boy, "No. it's okay I get it, hun. Laundry is probably my favorite cleaning activity anyway, peaceful."

They stay quiet again but both of them were thinking the exact same thing, Ezra much more embarrassed about the idea than Oliver. "It's not a bad thing, sweetheart, simply a precaution to take. While the town is small, there's still lots of littles and no one will judge."

Ezra sucked in a painful breath hearing his classification be mentioned, he'd gotten over the initial distaste of being a Little, a very young one at that, but it never truly left.

A sense of shame came from it even though, at least in their small town, being one was widely accepted. He was safe to slip, to be in his headspace, yet he was always hesitant to do so. He hated being a bother, constantly needing to be good for anyone, everyone.

Ever since that goddamn letter arrived in their mailbox it seemed that need had spiked. But that was besides the point.

Oliver, being the Caregiver he was had been happy to oblige to this need of praise, reminder that he was being good and never bothering anybody in the slightest.  What kind of Caregiver or boyfriend would he be if he didn't? So why did such an insignificant thing seem so...bad?

Ezra let his breath out, "I know but...Is there really nothing else we can do?" He was about to suggest medication of some sort, there had been drugs made to suppress side effects of being Little..That idea would be shut down immediately, however.

"Not without hurting you there isn't. We've already tried everything else dearest, remember how dehydrated you got attempting that idea?"

Right. That. No drinking anything past seven. He went to bed at nine. But he'd been pushing it to the limits behind Oliver's back, starting at six, then five, until he hadn't drank anything past maybe breakfast. Yeah...He was truthfully that desperate.

Oliver reached his hand out, placing it on top of Ezra's. "We both know you've been holding back your headspace because of this. You haven't hit any younger than seven, which by fact of matter isn't even in your ranges."

Yes, that was correct. According to the official document he was from ages three to an infant. But Littles no matter what age range could force themselves to be older than they are, the practice wasn't uncommon.

Most doctors even suggest Littles who do this should seek therapy, doing it was unhealthy especially if it was forced. On rare occasion a Little might be too panicked or upset to slip into a headspace in their range, slipping older or younger.

That was rare, and it wasn't Ezra's case. "But..." He tried to argue, fighting back tears, "I'm not...I'm not a baby."

Oliver smiled, "You are, honey. You're my baby." His voice softened completely, "I won't ever mind taking care of you and you know that, don't you, Butterfly?"

A small sob was the only response he got, "I know, honey, I know." Oliver stood from his place across the table, walking around it and picking Ezra up with ease, cradling his small body close. "Let's get you to bed, hmm? Nice and cozy."

He shuddered slightly at the idea of sleeping. He knew exactly what would happen when he did. Oliver kissed his forehead and that's when he realized...

It'd be okay.

...

The next morning went about the same as any morning. Rolling out of wet bedsheets lazily, showering, tossing everything into the laundry room for later. Eating a small but filling breakfast for just the two of them, brushing their teeth and pulling their shoes on.

Oliver took his tote bag with him today. It was a cream color with a big bright rainbow on it. Ezra had picked it out when he was regressed fully, that was one of their favorite memories together.

Normally he didn't take it, happily adding to his collection of plastic bags under the sink that they used for trash or something of the sort. Occasionally they'd store things they didn't quite need then but maybe later in them as well, depends.

They'd had a very important discussion during breakfast about what this shopping trip was for. And while Ezra was still mortified by the idea at the end of it, he wasn't that bothered by it anymore. He needed them, and as Oliver always said, 'Necessities aren't embarrassing, or bad, or gross.'

That's what he said when they bought his first pacifier, stuffy, onesie, little friendly outfit. He didn't make fun of him when he said he wanted to try wearing a skirt either, or when he admitted that he still loved horror movies even when little.

No, it was perfectly acceptable to Oliver, and it'd soon be perfectly acceptable to him too. Same goes with diapers...

When they got to the store, Oliver started greeting some employees, other people he knew. Each of them said hello to Ezra, calling him 'little guy', 'sweet pea', 'kiddo' and the list goes on. Each of those names making him slip into his headspace more and more.

He hadn't planned to slip so easily. He didn't think seeing mommys and daddys holding their Littles hands while picking out pull ups and toys would cause it to happen so fast.

Ezra look up at Oliver with big eyes, watching as the younger man hold out cardboard boxes of diapers with cartoon characters and colorful shapes on them. "Daddy?" He whispered, rubbing at his eye although he wasn't tired.

Oliver beamed, putting a purple box back on the shelf, "Yes, Butterfly?"

"Daddy cans I have uhm...go...gh.."

"Think about the word and try again, honey."

Oliver has crouched down to his level, only having to bend slightly at the knee but it made Ezra feel small, so so small. "Ghosts, p-please?" His words hadn't become completely skewed yet, he hadn't slipped that deep.

"Sure thing, Daddy will get them right down for you! Such nice manners, too." Oliver praised him, standing on his tip toes to grab a very spooky box of diapers for his Little.

Ezra grinned, reaching his arms out wide for it, a look of disappointment came when the box wasn't put in his possession, "This box is heavy, honey, Daddy is gonna carry it for you, okay?"

"Kay." He answered somewhat sadly. He lit up again when he saw all the gravestones and cartoon ghosts littering the box, a few axes there as well. He noticed another picture of witches cauldrons on the box as well.

He was confused though. Why were there witches? Wasn't it just ghosts? "Daddy, do I get witches too?!" He asked loudly, bouncing up and down.

Oliver checked the box again, "Uh-huh, hun, the cauldrons and hats show up when you're wet, isn't that cool?" Oliver smirked to himself seeing that tidbit of information.

It was obviously a tactic to get insecure Littles more comfortable with their diapers, a smart one at that. They'd be so excited to see the pictures change they'd stop caring about going! He smiled when he heard Ezra squeal, he loved blood and gore, yes, but witches were a close favorite to that.

The Witches was, by far his favorite book. Along with James and The Giant Peach and any other Roald Dahl book (or movie) to exist. "Daddy cans I puts one on now?! Pwease?"

"Not now, baby, we gotta grab three more things and then we can go home and get you diapered up, okay?"

Detergent, meat, and some wipes and powder. Four, technically but if he lessened the number it'd be easier for Ezra to accept.

"Okay, Daddy!"

...

That excitement surprisingly enough was still there when they got home. Ezra was bouncing in his spot while helping Daddy put everything away, sliding the packages of meat into the refrigerator's drawers, putting his chicken nuggets on the freezer's bottom shelf.

He put everything where it belonged, humming the tune to some classical music he couldn't remember the name of. His Daddy was really good at playing piano! But he only played boring songs, not that he cared, as long as his Daddy kept playing.

Finally after what felt like a lifetime (it was only twenty minutes), Daddy called him over to their room.

Oliver couldn't help but match his little boy's overjoyed expression as he sat his tote bag down on the bed, Ezra climbing up onto the soft comforter with a bit of struggle but getting there in the end.

First Oliver took the box out, setting it out of Ezra's reach. Then wipes, then powder, and a brand new pacifier. He figured that, his Butterfly needed another one anyway, and that'd he'd been incredibly good on their trip to the market as well.

Unlike some Littles, Ezra didn't get too cranky or upset at long market runs, or going to public events he didn't really want to go to. He didn't like it, but it didn't visibly upset him. Oliver was grateful for that.

It was a stark black pacifier with a print of Jason's mask on the front. Oliver was still surprised at how much horror movie merchandise there was for Littles, Ezra was too.

After a bit of struggle with the box, Oliver pulled out a fresh diaper for him. "Alright, honey, you ready?"

"Mhmm! M's ready!"

Ezra watched in a mixture of awe and slight embarrassment as his Daddy unbuttoned his short-alls at the crotch, pulling the fabric up and over before sliding off his big boy underwear.

He looked away at this point, feeling uncomfortable being so exposed. It wasn't like they hadn't bathed together, or changed in front of one another, or had bathing suit malfunctions. They'd seen one another in all their nakedness many times before so why was it so uncomfortable now?

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he felt the padding cover him, thick but also soft, reassuring. He only opened his eyes when he felt a tingly feeling on his tummy, his Daddy pressed kiss after kiss to it, "Stop it, Daddy!" Ezra giggled, trying to slide away, "It tickles!"

Daddy kissed his tummy one last time before snapping the crotch of his shorts closed again. He was wearing black short-alls and a white and red Slasher t-shirt. Along with some blood red socks that stopped just before his knees.

His unruly black hair was pinned into two tiny pigtails which he loved dearly. His hair wasn't too long now, only shoulder length but it was getting longer over the months and he adored it.

"Now, Butterfly, there's something I need you to do for me, alright?"

Ezra sat up, sitting on his knees and listening like a good boy. "Whenever you need to be changed can you tell Daddy? Doesn't matter how, just let me know somehow, okay?"

He nodded eagerly, "I'll tells, promise!"

"Thank you! Such a good boy, baby!"

His lips twitched into a smile at the praise, "Ups, please?"

His Daddy picked him up easily, one arm slid under his thighs and the other wrapped around his back. Like a princess being rescued! "Do you want some juice, honey?"

Ezra blinked once, then twice. He tried to speak but it came out as a gurgle. With his new thick, and warm and comfy diaper around his waist and his Daddy carrying him he felt so small. He was slipping then faster then he could process, honestly. "Ba-Baba..." He finally answered.

Oliver's eyes widen but he quickly fixed his expression. Ezra hadn't let himself slip this far in a while. After he slipped that young he ripped himself out of it because as they fatefully found out, he wet himself while drinking bottles. On (not so) rare occasions he'd do this with sippy cups or even glasses when he was big.

They seriously should of gotten these spooky diapers sooner, huh? "Sure thing, darling!"

He sat the baby down in a stool, watching from the corner of his eye as he got one of the two bottles they had. This was the pink one with cherry blossoms on it, reminding Oliver of his old life back in the mountains of Japan. He'd been born and raised there, he missed it even though he visited whenever he could.

The other one was red and covered in blood splatters. Ezra's personal favorite. Pouring in a decent amount of milk he warmed it up in the microwave for only twenty seconds, knowing the milk would be perfect from just that. "Daddy?" A shy, tiny voice asked.

"Hey, sweet pea. I got your bottle."

Ezra gave a small smile. He buried his face in his Daddy's neck as he was lifted up and taken back to their bedroom.

He lay somewhat limp in their bed, feeling sluggish instead of sleepy, it was still early and far from nap time, yet a hazy feeling washed over him as he absentmindedly crawled to his Daddy's side, quietly suckling on the pink bottle's nipple, letting his eyes close.

In truth, he was going to tell Daddy that he'd went potty once already, how fast he'd done so he couldn't explain, he didn't feel wet, he just noticed that the weight on his bladder lifted. Of course he couldn't feel it, these diapers were thick, made especially for Littles who were very young or had very poor bladder control. You wouldn't actually have to change one of these monsters until after maybe four or five uses.

He just barely felt it after his bottle. He leaned further into Daddy. Daddy was warm, really really warm. Everything his Daddy said went right over his head. He heard a  voice, sure, but he didn't hear a word. "Baby, hey, you here?"

Here. He was there? Where was that? He blinked, "Dada? Daddy feel weird..."

"You feel floaty, honey?"

Yeah. Yeah, floaty. He nodded into his side. Lips pressed into his cheeks, then right under his eyes. That made him feel a bit more real. "Honey, are you okay? Is something wrong?"

An unwanted rush of tears hit him, "I dunno, dunno Daddy! S'weird, jus' feels weird!" He explained frantically, slurring his words. "Calm down, sweet pea. Hey, breathe, hun, in and out okay?"

Ezra eventually calmed down with lots of reassurance and lots of reminders to breathe. He still felt odd, his body numb and hearing fuzzy but less so, thankfully.

Daddy made a noise that sounded sad. He didn't like when Daddy was sad. "Oh my, dear. I'm so sorry." He sighed, "You were probably starting to go deeper into your headspace, weren't you?"

Ezra shrugged. "It's still pretty early," He looked up at the clock on the wall across from them, it was one already, "We can go on a walk, would you like that?"

"Can I bring Ji?" He murmured softly, feeling gentle kisses he pressed into his hair. Ji, or Jiji was a plush replica of Jiji from Kiki's Delivery Service and while it wasn't a horror movie it was still one of Ezra's favorites in and out of his headspace. "Yes you can, honey. C'mon let's get our shoes back on, hm?"

They climbed out of bed almost regretfully, neither were tired but simply laying in bed sounded so nice, it always did. Ezra excitedly skipped over to his toy box, taking Jiji out and holding her close.

Oliver grabbed his phone and wallet, shoving them into the pocket of his jeans. He walked into the front room after Ezra who was sitting in front of the door, pulling his shoes on and making sure the Velcro was on tight. There wasn't exactly a hallway in their house, to be exact. It was one big open space. That made it all the smaller, which was fine, they didn't need a big home.

He lazily put on his loafers, starting to open the door with Ezra right on his tail, before he could ask for his hand he met eye to eye with a familiar face.

Amy Parker. A woman who was infamous for her very...angering views about Littles. She was a Caregiver, sure, but she thought Littles were helpless people who shouldn't be allowed to do well, anything. Oliver didn't like her. Ezra hated her.

She was known well among many online forums, but not very much in real life. She lived in their tiny town of Augustburg, why, out of the small population of just three thousand must she be here as well?

She scoffed, "I see you've finally gotten your Little some proper protection?" She slicked her ponytail back, giving Oliver a mean look, "You should've done such a thing ages ago, that however is beside my point."

Her voice stung in Ezra's ears. Firstly, he didn't know the bulge of his diaper was that noticeable, secondly, how dare this goddamn snake of a woman insult his Daddy?! He wasn't allowed to say bad words but there was no rule against thinking them, right?

"I have formed a group of Caregivers among our community here in Augustburg, and you," She pulled out a small packet that was only about three pages, handing it to him, "Have been invited to join. Then again, I doubt a caretaker as young as yourself will have anything useful to input."

Yes, Oliver was twenty-three, caring for a little. So what? Being young didn't mean he was incompetent, inexperienced maybe, but not stupid. "Our next meeting is tomorrow at five. I expect you and your little girl to be there."

"I'm a boy!" Ezra bumped in, there was no malice in his voice, he was just speaking a bit louder than usual. She let out a huff before turning, heels clicking loudly as she sauntered off their front porch. "Well she was just a pleasure to speak with." Oliver spat, obviously annoyed.

Ezra nodded, "She was a bitch."

"Bad word!"

"Sorry, Daddy..."

"Just because you're telling the truth doesn't mean you get to swear, okay? Please don't do that again."

"I won't!"

And they went on their walk, unbothered by whatever might happen tomorrow.

——