Aizawa still feels weird about being little and the last thing he wants is for Shinsou to find out.

He really does try his best to hide it around him, not wanting his adoptive son to find out that his new dad regresses.

But of course, despite best efforts, he finds out.

//heads up that i'm writing this on a total whim at work and i'm not exactly sure where it'll go or how formal of a thread it will be. general warnings for age play (both sexual and non sexual) caregiver/little, daddy kink, breastfeeding, and abdl, and maybe more.

//Pairings: basically a big polyam realtionship. Aizawa + Nemuri + Hizashi are all together. Shinsou + Aizawa are sort of together but not quite yet. Everyone knows about each other and this is all consensual.

Hitoshi's not always home. He stays a lot at the dorms, splitting his time between the dorms and home, his new classmates and his new family. He's mostly home on the weekends, and on those days, Shouta's big, the adult in the relationship. Or at least, he tries to be.

Having Hitoshi at home is already complicated.

There's their relationship, winding and tangled, somewhere between father and son and romantic partners. They step around each other, finding themselves in each other's arms sometimes, lips locked together hard.

There's Hitoshi's trauma, always at the forefront of Shouta's mind. The last thing he wants is to traumatize him further.

There's the fact that Shouta's the first adult to pay attention to Hitoshi. The fact that he needs an adult in his life.

All of it just accumulates in one thing:

Shouta can't let Hitoshi know.

And he's careful.

But then, a couple months into Hitoshi's adoption, something happens.

Shouta knows he can't play at home on the weekends. But it's been a hard week. A hard week full of difficult students and stake outs and patrols and sleepless nights. Shouta's at his wit's end, and he needs something- something he can't have. Because Hitoshi's here.

It's worse because Mommy's home with him.

Nemuri and Hizashi usually sleep in the upstairs bedroom when Hitoshi's here, so Hitoshi and Shouta can have the bed to themselves, but last night Hitoshi wanted to sleep in his own bed.

So Nemuri had slept with him, holding him close.

Now Hitoshi's still asleep in his room, the door slightly ajar.

And Shouta's watching Mommy move around in the kitchen.

And he wants.

He can't help it. Being so pressed to her last night, being able to smell her milk but not have it because Hitoshi could pop his head into the room at any time. Her tits look full now, uncomfortably so, and her hair is tied up in the way it is when she usually feeds him.

He's hungry. Shouta feels like he's starving. He forgot to eat dinner last night. It happens when he's trying to be big when he can't be. He forgets, forgets, forgets, stops taking care of himself, setting a horrible example for Hitoshi.

His stomach growls and Nemuri's eyes snap towards him. He knows then that he's been caught, caught staring at her tits, mouth watering over the milk he knows she has for him.

"Is there something you want, sweetheart?" She asks, like she already knows.

Shouta wonders how obvious it is that he's not feeling big enough, that he's feeling the telltale vulnerability of regressing. Is it written all over his face? In his body language? She can definitely tell, he can see from the soft look in her crystal blue eyes.

Shouta opens his mouth, tries to find his words, but immediately, he realizes something horrible- he's too small. He's slipped easily, fallen into littlespace without his permission.

All he can think about is Hitoshi in the other room.

Nemuri's eyes soften a little more as Shouta sits silently, his thighs pressed close together, his hands tangled in tight fists on his lap. What would Hitoshi think of him right now if he saw him? Would he be worried? Would he hate him?

He's supposed to be Hitoshi's father.

"Oh, baby," Mommy says, setting down her cup of coffee on the counter. Shouta's alone on the couch in the living room and all he can do is watch as she comes to him. She stops just in front of him, brushing a hand through his hair. "It's okay."

"No, it's not," Shouta's voice quivers, little and as soft as a whisper. he leans his head into Nemuri's touch, letting her cradle his head. Her long fingers brush through the strands of his hair, scratching lightly against his scalp.

Shouta whimpers.

It's been such a long week.

Work just piles up on him. Hizashi and Nemuri always tell him that he has a problem with saying no.

Shouta had so much work piled on him this week and Hizashi had to step in and put his foot down.

The tantrum Shouta threw over being told 'no more work' is probably indicative of how overworked he was.

It's still embarassing to think about, throwing himself on the floor of the teachers' lounge, yelling at Hizashi that he'd take on more work if he wanted to.

He'd earned himself a spanking and a half hour of corner time, both of which had fixed him.

Right now, Shouta doesn't want to throw a tantrum. He wants to be held and have his hair stroked. He wants to be cuddled against Nemuri's chest while she cradles him against her tits.

But Hitoshi's here.

And Shouta knows that means he can't play.

"Hitoshi," he manages to say, the name coming out choked, as if Shouta's close to tears purely from the frustration of it all.

Understanding comes over Nemuri's face. She glances back, at Hitoshi's ajar door, the room still dark and quiet.

Nemuri sits down next to him. She wraps her arm around him, pulling him against her side. Shouta's hand twitch, itching to wrap his arms around her stomach, but he wraps them tighter into fists in his lap. She cradles his head, guiding his face to lay on her full breasts.

Shouta takes a deep breath in and sighs. After so many years of this, he can smell her milk and his mouth waters at the sweet scent of it. He lets his eyes fall shut, feeling a little bit of drool escape his lips and drip onto Nemuri's t-shirt.

She just giggles quietly at him, rubbing his shoulder softly.

"Honey, Hitoshi's still asleep," She tells him gently. "Remember, you two stayed up late last night watching that movie. He'll probably sleep in for a couple more hours."

Shouta wants to believe her so badly.

He and Hitoshi had been just hanging out together until after midnight. Hitoshi had fallen asleep in his arms after mentioning that he wanted to try out his own bed.

Shouta hadn't known if Hitoshi had wanted him to sleep in there with him.

So he'd just taken Hitoshi into his room and set him in his bed, carefully tucking him in like Hizashi always does when Shouta's little. He'd piled his blankets on him, brought him some water, turned on his fan, and made sure the curtains were shut tight.

He really tries his best to be a good dad. He wants Hitoshi to know how loved he is. He never wants him to question it.

He doesn't want his new son to think of him as a child, as someone who gets small and tiny when he's overwhelmed.

Another little whimper tears itself free from Shouta's throat. He feels suddenly weak, small and helpless. Nothing like himself.

He spends so much time being the mean, strict teacher and hero that when he comes home, he just falls apart at the seams.

"Baby boy," Nemuri coos at him, nudging him closer to her. Shouta nuzzles his head against her chest, breathing in her scent and the scent of her milk. Shouta's stomach growls again, prompting Nemuri to ask, "Did you eat last night, sweetie?"

Shouta tilts his head up at her and opens his eyes wide. Her soft face comes into view, her quiet smile as she stares down at him. He can see his reflection in the glint of her glasses, his wide, huge eyes, the bags underneath them.

Shouta silently shakes his head, swallowing hard. Mommy and Daddy are always so understanding, never punishing him for forgetting to take care of himself. Shouta sometimes feels like he should be punished, like maybe a spanking would teach him to remember to feed himself.

But Nemuri and Hizashi don't agree with that.

"You must be so hungry, baby," Nemuri smiles at him and Shouta's mouth waters, his hands itching to paw at her shirt. But Nemuri has other plans. "Did you go potty already this morning?"

Shouta pauses, and quickly realizes that he's forgotten that, too. He can feel the dull ache at his bladder now, not quite making him desperate but enough to be uncomfortable. He squeezes his legs together a little more in answer.

"Why don't you let me baby you until Hito-chan wakes up?" Nemuri suggests, her voice so soft and nice, making Shouta hang onto each word. "You need it. Just a little bit, Shou-chan."

She's right; he does need it. He's gone the entire week without getting to be little.

Last weekend the commission sent him out on a three day stakeout, then Nezu assigned him to patrol the grounds for the rest of the week, and it's all...

...It's all been so much.

Shouta raises his head, glancing back at the ajar door that leads to Hitoshi's room. He can still hear the floor fan running and there's no noise or light from the room. Hitoshi's still fast asleep.

Shouta looks back up at Nemuri and nods.

Just for a little bit.

Just because he hasn't gotten to all week.

The closest he's been all week had been when he'd thrown that tantrum and got spanked and put in the corner for it. Other than that, he's had to be a big boy.

"Good boy."

Nemuri pulls away and Shouta openly whines at the loss of her. It's not for long, though, because she's grabbing his hand, pulling him up, and Shouta toddles after her as she leads him to the bathroom.

"Let's get you dressed," Nemuri says as she shuts the door behind them. Shouta stands in the bathroom, feet on the cold tile, his hands in fists, waiting. Nemuri just giggles at him, "Arms up!"

She pulls Shouta's arms up and gently tugs his shirt over his head.

Shouta shivers. His pants and underwear are next, pulled down by Mommy's perfectly manicured hands. She takes his hand, helping him step out of them, cooing at the way he shivers and shakes in the cool bathroom air.

"My cute little boy," Nemuri murmurs as she looks him over.

"Mommy," Shouta manages to say, the first thing he's said since this started. "I have to pee."

She raises an eyebrow at him, "You have to what?"

Shouta swallows hard, looks away, and corrects himself, "I have to go potty."

His face burns hot; using childish language is still hard for him sometimes. Mommy likes the way he blushes, though- she's told him such before.

Nemuri leans him, pressing a kiss against his lips, "Let Mommy put on your pull up and then you can go."

Shouta just nods in response, his face still burning hot. He watches her as she moves around the bathroom, gathering supplies. She takes her time, rubbing lotion onto the skin around Shouta's crotch, telling him it'll prevent him from getting a rash.

Shouta's not usually a fan of diapers unless he's feeling really little- it's just a touch too much for him when he's like this- but pull ups are alright. He has special ones, printed with a pattern of kittens, fitted so they hug his body perfectly.

Nemuri helps him step into them, pulling them over his legs slowly, settling the padded material over Shouta's hips. She goes even further, fingers wrapping around his cock, making him whimper as she arranges him and lets him feel the plush padding around his dick.

"Good boy," she compliments him when she's done, as she pulls a warm, oversized sweatshirt over his head. That finally stops the shivering and Shouta glances down at himself, taking in the images of cartoon cats on his shirt and the way the pull up bulges from under it.

And he thinks again about Hitoshi.

He's supposed to be his dad.

And yet, he can't even take care of himself. He's too little to do that.

What would Hitoshi think if he saw him like this? What would he do?

Would he hate him?

He doesn't have a lot of time to think about that, because soon enough, Nemuri is pulling him by the hand out of the bathroom, back to the couch where they'd been sitting before.

Shouta feels like a totally different person when he sits back down.

He feels small. Tiny. Little enough that he can't do anything for himself. He's suddenly so hungry and his mind is clouded and all he can think about it how he didn't eat last night or go potty this morning and now he's hungry and suddenly desperate.

He's learned that being little just takes any feelings he has an amplifies them, making them bigger and bigger until it's all he can do and feel. His stomach growls and Shouta's thighs press together as Mommy sits him on the couch and settles in next to him.

"Come here, baby," She tells him, opening her arms to him, and Shouta immediately goes, crawling to her and laying on her lap, letting her cradle him close. Her arm supports his neck and head, letting him lay limp against her.

She pulls up her shirt, exposing her swollen breast and Shouta feels his mouth water. He's so hungry and she has so much milk for him and he's so little that all he wants to do is lay here and let her feed him.

She cradles his head closer, nuzzling him against her exposed tit.

His mouth opens, lips parting, and he remembers his manners, gently kissing the nipple in front of him before his tongue laps at it, feeling the first few drops of milk drip out. It's creamy and sweet as it lands on his tongue, warm and satisfying.

Shouta latches on quickly, pressing his mouth against her nipple and sucking, the steady flow of milk filling his waiting mouth. He's mindful of his teeth, making sure to keep them out of the way and not bite, and Nemuri moans above him as he drinks from her.

Her milk always makes him littler. There's something about laying across her lap, breastfeeding from her, being her little baby, that makes him feel so small.

Nemuri's free land snakes down, between Shouta's thighs, rubbing at the front of his pull up. Shouta always likes being touched while he eats- even on the days he's too little to get hard. It makes him feel warm. Loved.

Hitoshi is the furthest from Shouta's mind as he sucks on Nemuri's swollen tits.

He thinks about how Hizashi and Nemuri like to play with him while he eats, how sometimes Hizashi fucks him while he sucks on Mommy's breasts, how Mommy plays with herself.

Before Shouta knows it, there's warmth flooding his padded pull up. The relief washes over him, his bladder emptying itself easily. Nemuri rubs at him, murmuring soft words to him as he wets himself, and Shouta lets his legs spread as he lets go fully.

It's so nice and warm, filling his pull up and soaking into the padded material. He doesn't have to worry about it getting cold and uncomfortable, nor does he have to worry about getting up and changing until Nemuri wants to. He can just let go and not worry at all.

"That's a good boy," Nemuri murmurs to him, her head bent so that her lips brush against Shouta's forehead. "Let it all out, baby. You had to go so bad."

He did, Shouta realizes. He really did. He didn't realize how bad, just like he didn't realize how hungry he was.

For a few moments he's in bliss. He's finally able to be little, after a week of constant working and being pulled in every which way. Mommy's feeding him, her milk warm and creamy as Shouta greedily swallows it down. His head is nice and light and there's nothing to worry about.

And then it all comes down.

In the worst way possible.

Nemuri's lips brush against his forehead and she murmurs to him, "Such a good boy for Mommy. Such a-"

And stops.

Her head whips up, lips leaving Shouta's skin.

It should be logical to figure out what happened. But Shouta's not logical. He's little, tiny, and the only things that makes sense are the things Mommy and Daddy tell him.

He keeps sucking at Mommy's breast, opening his eyes to see Mommy staring at something near the kitchen.

Shouta's first thought is to try to make it better. He whimpers, cuddling closer, his tongue flicking out to lap at the nipple in his mouth. But that doesn't work. Instead of relaxing, Nemuri just startles, like she'd forgotten he was there.

And that hurts, because Mommy's never forgotten about him.

So Shouta cries out around the tit in his mouth, hoping to get her attention, and her head snaps back down at him.

Her eyes are blown wide, blue filled with panic.

"Shouta, baby," She says carefully, in a hushed, rushed tone. "I think you should stop."

The words slam down on Shouta hard, filled with hurt and confusion, because Mommy's never made him stop before. But he's good and pulls his head away.

Nemuri nearly shoves him up, jolting Shouta up into a sitting position, like she's trying to force him to see something.

Tears fill Shouta's eyes at the rough treatment. He doesn't understand. Doesn't get it. Milk runs down his lips and he takes a deep breath, raising his head.

Finally, he sees it.

Hitoshi stands in the kitchen, frozen to his spot, his hand still on the door handle.

Shouta's eyes go wide.

He wants to throw up. He sort of feels like he's going to as he's thrown back into the real world, the vertigo of it hitting him hard and fast.

Hitoshi's there, and from the looks of it, he's been watching.

Shouta has no idea what to do.

For a long moment, he just sits there, staring at Hitoshi, his eyes locked with the boy's, a look of horror slowly spreading across Shouta's face the longer he stares.

He knows he's a mess. His eyes are watery with tears that are just now starting to fall. There's creamy white milk on his lips, running down his chin. He's wearing a sweater with cartoon cats all over it and a pull up that's puffy from being peed in.

Hitoshi no doubt just saw him sucking on Nemuri's tits.

Depending on how long he's been standing there, he might've ever seen Shouta piss himself.

How long has he been there?

Hitoshi says nothing.

For once, the look on his face is unreadable. All Shouta can see is the shock, the way his violet eyes are wide, how his eyebrows sit high up on his forehead, the way his mouth is parted.

Shouta wants to throw up.

He's...

He's seen his teacher acting like a child-

Like an infant.

Not just his teacher, but his mentor. His father. The person who's supposed to guide him and raise him.

Shouta feels sick.

And the worst part-

The worst part is that Shouta's head is still clouded.

Like he's stuck somewhere between big and small. Not big enough to know how to deal with this. Not small enough to be able to submit to the situation. It's a horrible place, filled with confusion.

Shouta's head hurts. His stomach hurts. His heart hurts.

He feels a hot shameful tear roll down his cheek and he reaches up,trying to wipe at it with the sleeve of his sweater.

He has no idea what to do. His brain won't let him be big. Even after being torn out of littlespace.

He just... just wants out of here. He doesn't want to look at Hitoshi's face. He doesn't want to hear him ask what's happening. He doesn't want to have to try to find the words to explain it to him.

He doesn't have any words. They're all gone from him, missing from his brain.

"Shou," Nemuri says, reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder, talking to him like she knows that he's still little. Shouta just feels pathetic and ashamed. There's no coming back from this. Hitoshi wasn't ever supposed to see him like this.

Shouta takes a deep breath.

Hitoshi's eyes widen a little more.

And Shouta runs.

Before anyone else can do anything, he runs. He takes his chance and runs, darting up from the couch and running to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

"Shouta!" He hears Nemuri scream behind him, hears her feet following him.

It's not enough.

Shouta goes further, goes to the closet, slams that door, too. He shoves himself into the corner, pushing past all Hizashi's clothes and leather jackets and the piles of clothes on the floor. The closet is small, but Shouta wants that.

He hears the bedroom door slam open, hears footsteps running in. Shouta shoves boxes and totes against the closet door in response, barricading it shut.

He sits in the dark, breathing hard, seeing Hitoshi's shocked expression in his head every time he closes his eyes.

"Shouta, open the door!" Nemuri finds him easily, given that Shouta had slammed the sliding door of the closet shut. He doesn't move, though, sitting huddled in the corner, not making a noise.

He just sits there, eyes wide, watching the strip of light under the door.

He hears another set of footsteps, then a muffled voice.

"...Sensei...?"

Hitoshi's quiet voice comes through loud and clear. It's the only thing Shouta can hear.

He shuts his eyes tight and drops his head into his hands, fingers knotting in his hair.

'Be normal,' he tries to tell himself, 'put some clothes on and go out there and talk to him.'

He can't.

He's still small.

Smaller than he ever has been before.

It's horrible.

He feels like a pathetic little kid, running away from his problems and locking himself in the closet like this. It's not like him. He's supposed to be strong and in charge. This isn't Aizawa. This isn't Eraserhead.

This is Shouta, who never got a chance at a real childhood, who only gets glimpses of it when he regresses. Shouta, who can't take care of himself when he gets like this. Shouta, who wants his mommy and his daddy more than anything in the world right now.

There's a whimper and it takes a moment for Shouta to realize that it's his own.

His fingers are tight in his hair, pulling at it.

He wants to be big. Wants to handle this. But he can't.

Nemuri knocks at the door. Shouta can tell it's her. She calls out to him, her voice gentler than before, "Shou-chan, please don't lock yourself in the closet."

Shouta sniffles. His voice comes out muffled and broken, "I want to!"

He doesn't want to.

He just doesn't want Hitoshi to see him like this. He wants Hitoshi to forget all about what he'd seen. He wants to go back to laying in Mommy's lap while she feeds him. He wants Daddy to come home and tell him it'll be okay.

He can't say any of that, though. It won't come out. All he can do is sit in this closet and pull his hair and hope it all goes away.

Nemuri tries the handle of the closet door. It doesn't budge. She knocks again. "Shouta, please come out."

"No!" Shouta's well aware that he sounds like an insolent child, but he can't stop. He leans against the wall, yanking hard on his hair, feeling some of it come loose in his hand. He whines again, knowing Hizashi won't be happy with him for that.

"Shou-"

"Sensei, please!"

Stop, Shouta wants to tell both of them. Stop, stop, stop.

Hitoshi sounds so desperate. So panicked.

"No," Shouta shouts again, his voice strained and breaking. He pulls hard at his hair again. "No, stop, no."

He doesn't know what to do, so he's just saying everything he's able to, and hoping that something sticks, that something gets him what he wants.

"Sensei..." He hears outside the door. Hitoshi's come closer instead of going away.

"Stop!" Shouta insists, panic gripping him hard. He knows how strong Hitoshi is. He's trained him personally. Part of him is terrified that Hitoshi will rip the door right off the hinges.

He hears a startled gasp and a stumble, like Hitoshi's trying to back away.

Shouta lets out a breath, but the relief doesn't come yet.

"Shinsou, could you please go back to your room for a little bit?" Nemuri's muffled, gentler voice comes through the door. "I'll... I'll explain in a little bit."

There's a long hesitation. Like Hitoshi doesn't want to go.

"...Okay."

He sounds so dejected. So rejected.

Shouta feels guilty. About pushing him away. About playing where he could easily see. About not explaining. About not being big enough to deal with this. The guilt washes over him hard in waves, crashing into his body and taking him over.

His shaking hands untangle themselves from his hair and he reaches forward, his fingers finding the soft leather of one of Hizashi's dirty jackets. He pulls it over himself, up to his chest, and buries his face in it as he hears Hitoshi's footsteps leading away from him.

"Shou," Nemuri calls out softly, knocking at the door again, "Shou, please come out. This isn't solving anything."

Shouta can't move or speak anymore. So he does the one thing he can think of and slides his fingers under the door.

It takes a moment for Nemuri to notice, but once she does, she sits on the floor and a second later, Shouta feels her manicured nails carefully tracing over his fingers, running over the edges of each finger as she traces his handprint on the floor.

"I'm sorry, baby," She says after a long minute, "I know you didn't want him to see anything."

He'd never wanted Hitoshi to know. And now he'd caught them in the most compromising position possible.

Shouta whimpers quietly, whines softly. Loud enough for Nemuri to hear but not loud enough for Hitoshi to hear in his room.

"I know," Nemuri assures him, fingers stroking over the back of his hand now. "But Hito-chan's not mad at you. He's just confused."

That confusion would give way to anger eventually. Shouta was convinced of it. Who would want a father figure like this? One who couldn't even be big when it mattered? Hitoshi would realize- realize that Shouta had taken him out of a bad situation and adopted him into another.

All he'd ever wanted was for Hitoshi to feel loved.

And now he'd fucked all that up because he'd wanted to play.

"He's going to hate me," the words come out of Shouta's mouth, whispered and barely audible, before he can stop it. "He's never going to respect me again after this. He'll find some other favorite hero."

Maybe it was selfish, but that was what it came down to. Shouta likes the way Hitoshi looks up to him. He likes having him as his little protege. He likes the way Hitoshi looks at him like he's the most amazing person he's ever met. He loves the way Hitoshi sees him.

No one's ever quite seen Shouta in the way Hitoshi does.

Hizashi and Nemuri love and respect him, but they're not kids who look up to him like Hitoshi is. He doesn't want to lose that.

But how could he not, after what Hitoshi saw?

"He's not going to hate you," Nemuri tells him, slipping her fingers under the door and curling them up. Shouta doesn't hesitate, takes her hand and holds onto her fingers tight. "That kid's always going to love you."

Shouta thinks about the way things with Hitoshi were just getting started, the way they'd just been getting closer. The way Shouta would invite Hitoshi to sit in his lap. The way Hitoshi would sometimes ask to kiss him. The way Shouta would kiss him back.

It hasn't gone any further than that, but it felt natural. Shouta wants more of that. He doesn't want things to change. But they will, because there's no coming back from this.

"I'm going to go talk to him, alright?" Nemuri asks him, her fingers squeezing his hand gently. "I'll make sure he understands. I'll give Daddy a call and ask him to come home, too."

Shouta just nods, even though she can't see him.

She lingers for a few minutes, but eventually leaves, promising to talk to Hitoshi. Shouta's left alone in the dark closet, and part of him is glad that he's here. He's always felt better in enclosed spaces rather than open ones.

He can hear Nemuri and Hitoshi talking in the living room. It's quiet and he can't make out a lot of it, but he catches certain words, like Nemuri explaining that Shouta never got to be a kid, telling him that this is how he feels better after stressful nights.

Shouta just curls up in the closet, holding Daddy's leather jacket close to his chest. He wishes he had one of his stuffed animals, but they're all outside and he's not quite yet willing to leave the safety of the closet.

He does manage to pull a pair of pants on at one point.

After a long while, the voices quiet in the living room. There's a pause- Shouta isn't sure how long- and then footsteps approach and enter the room again.

Shouta can tell they're Hitoshi's.

Hitoshi sits on the floor outside. Shouta listens to him drop to the ground, sees the shadows outside shift and settle as he sits. There's another moment and then Hitoshi's smaller hand slides underneath the door, waiting.

Shouta's fingers shake as he slides them over Hitoshi's.

"Sensei," Hitoshi calls out softly, his voice quiet and gentle. "You can come out now."

Shouta hesitates but slowly, he draws his hand back and pushes the totes and boxes out of the way, until he can nudge the sliding door open with his foot.

Right outside sits Hitoshi, sitting cross legged on the ground, his eyes fixed on Shouta. Shouta stares back at him, still sitting in the corner of the closet, like it's the most normal thing in the world.

Hitoshi slowly reaches his hand out, and Shouta takes it.

Hitoshi's fingers wrap around his own, his hand much smaller than Shouta's. Shouta folds their fingers together, holding on tight to him. Shouta stares at their fingers together; it's easier than looking at Hitoshi.

"I'm sorry," he says quiet, voice barely more than a whisper. "You shouldn't have seen that."

Hitoshi scoots closer, moving himself into the closet with Shouta, sitting so close to him that their legs touch. Shouta lets him, feeling Hitoshi's warmth radiating off his body.

"It's okay," Hitoshi murmurs to him. He pauses, and Shouta can feel his eyes on him, "Can I tell you a story, Sensei?"

Shouta's head raises at that and he nods without thinking. Hitoshi's face stares back at him, a small bittersweet smile on his lips. He squeezes Shouta's hand.

"Before you adopted me, I got passed to a lot of homes," Hitoshi starts. But Shouta already knows this; he's well aware of Hitoshi's big foster care file, of all the placements he'd been in before. He doesn't say anything about that, though, instead letting Hitoshi talk.

"When I was around twelve, I was in this house with all these little kids," Hitoshi goes on without pause. "And I would always get really jealous of them, because I never got to play like they did. So whenever they'd leave me alone in the house, I'd take their things and play."

It's starting to dawn on Shouta what Hitoshi's trying to say.

Hitoshi glances away from him, scratching at his neck with the hand that's not holding Shouta's, a habit he's picked up from Shouta himself.

"And I started feeling like a little kid whenever I'd do it," Hitoshi tells him, just confirming Shouta's suspicions. "And, weirdly, I liked it. But then my foster parents found out, and uh..."

Shouta can see it in his face, the way Hitoshi's trying to decide how much to say.

"They hurt you," Shouta supplies softly instead, trying to solve the problem for Hitoshi instead of forcing him to go into details that are painful.

"Yeah," Hitoshi says quickly. "I mean, it wasn't that bad, but it still stopped me from ever doing it again."

Shouta squeezes Hitoshi's hand this time. Hitoshi's tightens back in response.

There's relief in Shouta, starting to fill him up, after what feels like hours of guilt.

He understands.

"What I'm trying to say is," Hitoshi breathes a sigh and raises his head to Shouta's, "That I don't think it's weird or anything. I actually thought what I saw was kind of..."

He shuts up, his face goes red, and Shouta gets it.

"Oh," Shouta says. It dawns on him. Hard.

"Yeah..." Hitoshi can't look him in the eyes.

Shouta's lips twitch up. He almost- almost- laughs.

"If you'd let me," Hitoshi goes on, taking another deep breath, "I'd like to um... spend time with you. When you're like that. But only if you'll let me."

Shouta thinks about it.

He turns it over in his head again and again.

He already has his mommy and his daddy, but it doesn't sound like Hitoshi wants to be either of those. Shouta doesn't want him to, either- he doesn't want that power imbalance between them.

But maybe if Hitoshi could just... play with him.

He thinks about it, thinks about all the nights Hizashi sets him up at the kotatsu with a coloring book and a cat-themed movie on the television.

Maybe they could start off with something simple like that.

Something like Hitoshi sitting at the table with him and coloring. Something that doesn't require Shouta to be too little, like he was today. Something where he can easily be big again or switch between the two.

That's what he feels comfortable with right now.

"Maybe," Shouta half-agrees, still feeling too small to make any big decisions right now, like letting Hitoshi into this part of his life. He looks over Hitoshi, sitting on the floor, holding Shouta's hand, "I'm sorry your parents did that to you."

"It's okay," Hitoshi says, though Shouta knows it isn't okay. Not really. "Maybe I can't be little anymore because of it, but I at least want to help you when you are. I think it'd be fun. Kayama told me it is."

Shouta nearly chokes, "She told you what?!"

Hitoshi's lips lift higher and he laughs, and it's such a sweet sound that Shouta wants to say yes right then and there, to let Hitoshi into this part of his life.

"She told me how much she likes being your mommy," Hitoshi informs him, and Shouta feels his face burn hot.

He glances away, "I didn't know she was telling you all that."

"It's okay, Sensei," Hitoshi reassures him, his thumb stroking over Shouta's hand. "But I mean it. I really would like to be around you when you're little."

Shouta sucks a deep breath in. He looks down at himself, at the childish cartoon cat sweater he has on, at how his pull up bulges slightly from his sweatpants.

If Hitoshi likes him like this, then...

Then maybe it's alright.

He lets out the breath he's holding slowly, and nods his head, "Alright. We'll try it."

Hitoshi's grin widens, the happiness blossoming all over his face, making his violet eyes sparkle, "Thank you, Sensei. And for the record, I think you're pretty cute like this."

And then, the worst thing possible happens.

(Except, not really.)

Shouta's stomach growls. Loud.

Hitoshi raises an eyebrow at him, "I think you need to finish breakfast."

Shouta goes bright red.

Milk does sound good right now, though. Shouta's mouth waters at the mention of it and he adverts his eyes, embarrassed of his reaction. Hitoshi just laughs and though it makes Shouta burn brighter, it thankfully eases the rest of the tension in the room.

"I'll go get Kayama for you," Hitoshi grins at him, finally letting go of his hand and standing up, glancing back at him one last time, "Maybe afterwards we can play together for a little bit."

Shouta nods. "Maybe."

He'd like to, he thinks.

Hitoshi leaves and Shouta's face burns as he sits on the floor, dipping lower and lower back into littlespace again.

He's safe, though. Safe and loved. Hitoshi still loves him, will always love him, and even wants to play with him.

For once, everything is okay. Shouta's okay.

//Thread! thank you for reading! I'm always really nervous about writing age play and littlespace stuff, but it always makes me really happy. I really want to do a follow up to this thread and might do a poll about it.