Work Text:
~~~
Schlatt wishes things didn’t have to be this way, that he’d revert to being a child simply because he’s too stressed out to deal with adulthood, wishes he had other ways to cope besides this, that he could just function in a normal way, but he’s burned out, and when he’s burned out he always turns to regression.
He isn’t a cutesy, small, soft little, which all littles seem to be, everywhere he turns there is a lack of littles that identify as male, but littles that look like him? Practically impossible to find, and he feels that much more shame around his regression because of it.
Nobody wants to dote on a full grown man, one that's probably the tallest in a room, and while growing out his hair makes his face look softer his facial hair doesn’t do him any favors.
But he likes how he looks, even though he hates how rough around the edges he is while small. He’s learned to avoid mirrors for that exact reason after triggering himself one too many times, he’s learned that the hard way, not great to show his mentally childlike mind his reflection, it would be a bit of a shock for a kid.
So why is he out of everyone a little? Well, for one he’s up to his eyeballs in stress most of the time, and certainly treading water through all the hate he gets, sometimes not very well, and sometimes he can’t pretend that it doesn’t get to him anymore, so when that happens he turns to this.
He thinks of it as an ugly necessity, something he wipes from his mind after regressing, but relies on it in order to function within his own way of living.
He’s done things on his own for months, pushing and pushing professionally until he physically and mentally can’t anymore, and spends an evening regressed, goes to bed and pushes it away come morning.
It’s an easy rinse and repeat cycle, and he’s grown accustomed to the ins and outs of things, comfortable in the best way this situation can get.
He would admit deep down that he’s lonely though, wanting some assurance and comfort in someone else, safe with the control given to them entirely, so he can fully let go.
“Hey, Schlatt?” Schlatt hums acknowledgingly, on a call with Ted over discord as he’s fiddling about with the details for his latest vod. “You okay man? Cause if- if you aren’t then I’m here, Charlie ‘n everyone is too.”
“Why wouldn’t I be good? What’re-“
“Well just sometimes you go kinda quiet, insular sorta, ‘n it’s been happening more recently,” Ted tells him, concern in the corner of his mouth as he frowns. “Are you burned out? Cause everyone needs a break, Schlatt, especially with the shit-storm that kicks up online sometimes.”
“‘M not burned out, man, just got back into shit after so fuckin’ long, life’s good,” Schlatt shrugs, not feeling as sure with his assurances as he thought he would now that he’s saying his admittedly enviable achievements aloud.
“You can still feel shitty regardless of that though.”
“Jesus Christ, what d’you want from me Ted? You want me to spill my fuckin’ guts? I don’t know what to say!”
“Yes! I do, cause I know you’re not gonna talk about how you’re feeling cause you’re an ass like that, so I’m just checking in, that’s it,” Ted says, throwing up his hands.
“You’re sure insistent with it,” Schlatt huffs, only marginally as pissed as he seems. “Fine! I’m not- ‘m not… coping, I guess? At least the way I should. Like, I’ve got a coping mechanism, but I’m not coping with shit.”
“Are you practicing it healthily, though? Not just doin’ it for the sake of it then pushing shit down again after, cause that doesn’t work, like doing meditation then forgetting the techniques used in it for the rest of your day.”
“God I wish I just meditated, but that never worked, it’s just sitting in silence with my head, I’ve tried, I promise you, but it just never. Fuckin.’ Works.”
“That’s okay, so then, what DOES work?”
“Ok-okay, don’t fucking laugh at me, I swear to god Ted if you ever- just don’t share this okay?”
“I’m- I’m not an asshole Schlatt.”
“I’m a- you know the videos of those people with like adult-sized fuckin’ baby cribs, innocently wearin’ dipers that everyone loves to point and laugh at occasionally because it’s like ‘fuck, glad I’m not that batshit?’ Well I’m- in simpler terms at least that’s what I do.”
Fucking hell he said that in the worst possible way, if he doesn’t throw up after that he’s sure Ted will.
“Okay, I’ve actually got some experience with that, not first-hand but I get it,” Ted nods understandingly, his face as open and receptive as it somehow has been for the majority of this conversation.
“Do I need to-? I told you I’m an adult baby or whatever and you’re totally chill with it? And you’re not gonna at least laugh about it?” Schlatt questions incredulously.
“You make it seem like you told me you’re an actual serial killer, no, Schlatt I am not going to point and laugh about something you clearly have shame about anyway,” Ted gently points out.
“I’m not ashamed of it.”
“If that’s the case then you’d think you deserve to feel comfort in it, rather than automatically expecting to get shit for it,” Ted reasons, trying to keep this somewhat objective for Schlatts comfort, then a thought occurs to him. “Does anyone else even know about this?”
“I think it’s safe to say by how I hated telling you that nobody else knows, Ted,” Schlatt deadpans, his expression flat.
“Do you struggle being alone while you’re ‘in it?’ Because that may be part of why you feel it’s not working.”
“Who the hell would I have to do that? Who would even WANT to?”
“Well I’m available,” Ted offers openly, a smile on his face that he hopes comes across as easygoing.
But Schlatt is having none of it, stomping on the breaks. “Abso-fucking-lutely not. No. No.”
“Why not? If this works then you won’t feel as shitty anymore.”
“I’m not small ‘n cute like Charlie or whoever would be, Jesus Christ carin’ for me over call with a pacifier in my mouth is just- that’s fuckin’ horrifying, and I’m not gonna make anyone sit through that shit,” Schlatt laughs, in complete disbelief that someone would ever be willing to do such a thing for him.
“But would it help you?” Ted asks simply, noting the absolute certainty in Schlatts words, the deep belief that he’s somehow not worth caring for simply because of how he looks.
“What the fuck d’you mean, ‘would it help you?’ I’m doin’ this shit on my own, no offense but I’m not subjecting someone to that, Ted, especially not as a friend.”
“You’re not ‘subjecting’ me to anything, okay? And for me, as your friend, I can see how this would help you,” Ted explains as calmly as he can, his voice mellow and even since he can tell that this is a tender subject getting even more sore by the minute, so he decides to leave things in his friends hands. “You can take or leave this and I won’t be offended, just take some time to think it over, and if by a month from now you don’t make a decision, or don’t want to, I’ll let this go, you never have to talk about it.”
And Schlatt, being Schlatt, doesn't talk about it, and it’s nearing the month deadline that Ted had set when they all had to meet up for Chuckle Week.
They’re in the studio when he feels a wave of sheer throat-tightening anxiety grip him, nothing to do with the expensive cameras or bright lighting surrounding him.
“S’cuse me, bathroom,” he excuses, and before any of them question it he slips out of the recording room, right in front of their guest, but he can berate himself for that later.
He quickly enters a stall then locks it before he places the toilet lid down, already feeling dizzy as he sits on the cold porcelain, head in his hands.
Schlatts had panic attacks before, but each and every one of them seems different, varied but it’s a guarantee he’ll be hyperventilating, crying, rocking himself in place or all of the above soon after he feels it coming on, and by then he’s too deep to calm down without intervention or crying himself out.
He’s had a couple in littlespace, most of the time just because of that sheer wrongness that sometimes radiates through his being, that he’s not a child, he’s an adult, he’s wrong to pretend. Dirtybadwrong.
“Schlatt? C’mon man, you in here?” Ted's voice comes as the bathroom door swings open and shut, his shoes squeaking on the floor.
Schlatt can’t hold back a sob, and it just makes him cry harder that he couldn’t even hide this from his friend, to simply deal with this in private and make everyone think he’s okay afterwards.
“Hey, can I come in? You gotta open the door,” Ted tells him after trying the stall door, but Schlatts frozen, he can’t do anything other than rocking himself with his head in his hands. “Schlatt? Fuck it, I’m gonna come in anyway, okay?”
Schlatt hears jangling and then a scrape, presumably Ted figuring out the lock from the outside, then he manages to get it unlocked, and light floods in behind his covered eyes.
“Oh, Schlatt, everything’s okay, everything’s okay, just try to take deep, deep breaths okay?” Ted comforts, crouched down in front of his friend. “Can I touch you? You okay with that?”
Schlatt nods, and feels a touch over his hands, carefully lowering them slightly, and he hadn’t realised he’d been digging his blunt nails into his scalp, his palms sweaty yet Ted still holds them.
Schlatt can’t look at him, can’t look into the coffee coloured eyes of one of his closest friends, so he just keeps them closed, focusing on unclenching his jaw and taking deep breathing, in through his nose and out through his mouth, still shaky and hitched but much better with Ted directing him.
“You find him?” Charlie asks as he pokes his head in the door.
“Mhm, think he was having a panic attack, a pretty bad one, huh buddy?” Ted tells their friend, stroking Schlatts hands with his thumb, Schlatts breathing finally resembling something like normal.
“Aw, bud, you didn’t need to hide away,” Charlie tells him sadly, and Schlatt cries, surging forward to bury his face in Ted's shoulder, wrapping his arms around him and nosing into his worn-soft sweater.
“Charlie’s right, we’re never gonna judge you for having a panic attack, we just don’t want you to be having one alone in a bathroom stall,” Ted comforts, his hand cupping the back of Schlatts head, playing with the fine curls, with the other wrapped around him tightly.
“I was bein’ dumb ‘n in my head, shouldn’t have forced you to do this jus’ because I couldn’t keep my shit toge’der,” he mumbled, muffled into the fabric, though Ted can just about hear him unfortunately.
“First off, don’t call yourself dumb, okay? And second we wanna help you, nothing is forced here.”
“Why ‘m I like this? I shouldn’t be this way, should be normal. ‘S stupid,” Schlatt cries, pulling away and sinking his hands into his loose curls.
“We’re especially not gonna judge you for bein’ small,” Ted assures him, holding Schlatts hands again. He knows exactly what Schlatt was referring to, though the vitriol he had in his voice made Ted hurt, an ache flaring deep in his chest.
“There’s nothing, absolutely nothing wrong with you, you’re our best friend ‘n you always will be,” Charlie chimes in with, looking just as torn up as their older friend.
“‘M not! I can’t..” Schlatt protests.
“You can, I doubt we need much more footage anyway, nobody would make you sit ‘n act normal after you’ve just had a panic attack, Schlatt.”
“But-“
“No buts, there’s always other days, ‘n if there isn’t then we’ve still got enough to make something out of, yeah?”
Schlatt chews at his lips, hoping his friends won’t notice, just holding himself back from the childish gesture of putting his thumb in his mouth.
Of course Ted notices. “Charlie, can you go get that spare paci please?” He asks
Charlie nods then disappears out the door, automatically closing behind him.
“You feeling a bit better now?” Schlatt nods, exhausted. “You can come to either of us at any point, especially during filming, we wanna know if you’re feeling overwhelmed and need a break.”
“I jus’ didn’t wanna bother you guys,” Schlatt mumbles out, hugging himself slightly.
“Like I told you before, you’re not bothering anyone, nor are you subjecting or forcing us to do anything we don’t wanna do, we love you buddy,” Ted smiles, as Schlatts chin goes all wobbly again. He cups both of Schlatts cheeks, gently tilting his head to get the other to look at him. “‘Kay?”
Schlatt nods, his eyes all red and irritated, and gets drawn back into another hug.
Ted hears the door slide open and shut as Charlie steps back into the room, but if Schlatt notices he doesn’t pull away an inch. “I uh… I got my paci too cause…”
“That’s okay, Char, I’m glad you grabbed it just in case,” Ted smiles, able to tell that Charlie’s still in a bigger kid headspace right now, but after the worry he’s sure that he’ll drop down to a more familiar age quickly, almost in sympathy of being around another little as well.
“You- you’re little too?” Schlatt gets out, pulling away from Ted to look at their other friend. Charlie’s gaze flits away nervously, but he still nods, and a small lopsided grin worms its way onto Schlatts face.
“That’s cool, isn’t it? I’ve been his main CG for a while, which is how I knew the signs in you on call, he was kinda the one to point it out at first actually,” Ted tells him.
Charlie smiles nervously at the words, still unused to discussing these things, even around another little, but hands the spare pacifier over to Ted, keeping hold of his own green one, not able to decide if he wants to use it just yet.
“Now, you don’t have to use this, but you mentioned it before so I wanted to keep one on me, same as I do for Charlie,” Ted tells him, presenting the blue pacifier for Schlatt to either take or push away.
Schlatt assesses the object, then upon realising that they’re actually okay with this, he’s entirely safe and accepted, does he take it, deflating as he pops it in his mouth, all the tension diffusing from his being.
Ted's face brightens considerably, and he puts his hands on his knees as he stands, realising his legs are a bit numb as he takes a step back out of the stall, Schlatt looking much more content than when he first burst into the room.
Maybe this might just be the first step in feeling more content as a whole, that being accepted for his regression may cause him to feel more comfortable showing that vulnerable side of himself.
“C’n we go home?” Charlie asks, chewing on his hoodie strings.
“We sure can, buddy, long as you use your paci rather than chewin’ your clothes, okay?” Charlie nods, his lips drawn, though he does listen and puts the silicone in his mouth instead. “Good job, Char, I’ve just gotta say goodbye, you ready to go out there?”
Schlatt frowns, not wanting to take his pacifier out already, though he doesn’t say anything. But of course Ted notices. “You can still use it, just gotta put a mask on over the top, yeah?”
Schlatt nods, looking confused and a bit spacey, but stands and fishes his mask out of his jean pocket. “Ov’a top?”
Ted restrains the urge to coo at his friend, only because he knows that would make Schlatt retreat back into his shell at his childish characteristics being pointed out.
Schlatt sets himself carefully on the edge of the bed
“Let’s get you outta these scratchy clothes, bubs, I’ll go get some pants from my room, Char, you okay picking out your pjs?”
“Mhm! I big boy!”
Ted fondly ruffles his hair as he walks out into the hall to his own room, on the hunt for some spare sweats while Charlie rifles around for some pjs, then sets them on the bed so Ted can help him change, since he’s in skinny-jeans and he always needs help getting those off while little.
“I di’n’t bring any stuffies, or anythin,’” Schlatt says suddenly, seemingly sad about the realisation.
“‘S okay! S’latt c’n have some’a my toys!” Charlie says, wandering over to his bed and rooting around for an exact plushie, as he’s collected quite a few in the time since getting his playroom.
“‘eally? I don’ have many, but I gots ‘Ammy ‘n a goat stuffie!”
“I got Wammy too!” Charlie tells him excitedly, pulling the Youtooz plushie out of his pile of toys, and waddling back over to his friend, putting the plush on Schlatts lap and giving a light pat to its fluffy head.
“Mine?” He asks, hugging the plushie into his arms.
“Yea! Said I share.”
“Tank you,” Schlatt smiles.
Ted returns and both boys settle down on the bed, Charlie fumbling to get his shirt off as Ted hands the sweatpants to Schlatt. “You can change in here if you want, or in the bathroom, I’m just gonna have to help Char outta his jeans, ‘kay?”
Schlatt nods and goes to stand in the corner opposite to the bed, so he can change in moderate privacy while Ted's preoccupied with helping Charlie on the bed.
Ted has to practically play tug-of-war with Charlie’s jeans, the things having become almost glued to the littles legs throughout the day. Charlie laughs as he’s almost dragged off the bed, gripping the sheets as Ted struggles with an exaggerated expression, and Schlatt giggles quietly in the corner.
“Ey, you guys laughing at me? I can just leave you to it, how ‘bout that?” Ted mock-threatens, his hands on his hips, the jeans like shackles around the others legs.
“No Teddy! P’ease help!”
“I’ll take pity on ya this time,” Ted concedes, ripping the last of those stubborn jeans off of Charlie’s legs. “You’re free at last, Charmander.”
“T’anks Teddy!”
“I’ll leave you guys to get into your pjs, ‘n I’ll go order us some food.”
The boys both come into the lounge looking adorable. Charlie’s wearing his favorite minecraft pyjamas, Slimecicle plushie squeezed tightly in his arms, and his green pacifier between his lips. Schlatts wearing Ted's loungewear, the gifted Rammy plush under his arm, and Ted smiles to see him comfortably using his own paci.
They both bundle onto the sofa, and Charlie lets Schlatt have the space in between both himself and Ted, so he’s practically sandwiched in comfort between his two favorite people.
Schlatt isn’t anywhere near as bratty as Ted had envisioned, in fact he seems almost… shy, the entire evening he's been watching them both. His demeanor is entirely different to the chaotic man he knows and loves, and it’s refreshing to see him so deeply relaxed and comfortable, settled between Charlie and himself.
He could tell they were getting tired, Schlatt laying against Charlie, the pacifier bobbing slowly between his lips as his eyelids became heavy, blinking sluggishly with Charlie looking much the same.
“I think it’s time for bed, little ones,” Ted quietly announces, the credits thankfully just starting to roll, though he knows they both missed the end with their tiredness.
Ted gets them settled in bed with their respective stuffies, Schlatt quietly admitting he’d rather sleep in Charlie’s playroom bed with the older than be on his own in the spare room, blushing when Charlie says they can cuddle.
“You comfy?” He asks, the covers pulled up around them, and Schlatt gives him the sleepiest nod.
“C’n Teddy read story?” Charlie asks, rubbing his tired eyes, his glasses having been set on the bedside table, and without them he looks that much more young, his eyes brighter than they normally are behind the glass.
“‘Course, Dr. Seus do ya?” Ted asks as he picks a book off of Charlie’s shelf, having collected a few books in their time of reading together. He sits himself down on the wooden chair next to the bed, and opens to the first page, his boys getting comfy as he softly begins to read. “‘Congratulations! Today is your day. You’re off to Great Places! You’re off and away!”
~~~
