Work Text:
“Wait, Sapnap, am I taller than you?”
Sapnap blinks at George’s question. George knows he’s taller, so why is he re-confirming-
For the fans. For the stream. He wants the entire internet to see that he’s taller than Sapnap. And Sapnap’s not going to just go along with it.
“Of course not,” Sapnap says with fake confidence. “Everyone knows you’re shorter. You’re the shortest.”
“Oh, come on, Sapnap,” Dream teases, knowing full well who’s the shorter one. “We’ve established that I’m the tallest, now we need to see which one of you is second tallest.”
Sapnap shakes his head. “We’re not checking. I’m taller, obviously.”
“If you’re that obviously taller, we should test,” George says, standing up and maneuvering behind the chairs. “Come on, get up. Let’s see.”
Sapnap sighs, reluctantly standing beside George.
“Wait, I think I’m actually taller,” George says, smiling widely.
“Yeah, you are,” Dream agrees. “That’s a first.” He takes on an interviewer voice as George and Sapnap sit back down. “Sapnap, how does it feel to be shorter than the short guy?” He pushes the mic over to in front of Sapnap, who leans into the mic and cups his hands around it.
“No comment,” Sapnap says, deadpan.
And that’s the bit for the stream.
George keeps bothering Sapnap about being shorter, saying things like, “I’m taller, so I know more than you,” and, “Hush, the adults are talking.” Sapnap, obviously, has to go along with it, continuing his response of “No comment.” whenever someone asks how he feels about it.
No one notices how hard he’s trying not to cry, how his hands are clenched on his lap, how his normally bouncing knees are completely still, how he’s being a lot more quiet than normal. No one notices his eyes flickering around like everything’s new, like he’s never seen the flickering chat, like he’s never seen the bright colors on the monitor, like he’s never seen the animated gestures of Dream and George on the stream playback.
Like he’s a child again.
But Dream and George notice when, as soon as the stream ends, Sapnap buries his face in his hands and lets the tears flow. They can’t see the tears from where they are, but they know something’s very wrong.
“Sapnap?” Dream asks softly, and, being the one in the middle and so next to Sapnap, puts his hand lightly on Sapnap’s shoulder. “Are you-?”
Dream’s cut off by Sapnap jerkily flinging his arm up, effectively knocking Dream’s hand away.
“I think he’s upset,” George says.
“I can see that,” Dream responds. “Sapnap, what’s wrong? What happened?”
Sapnap stays silent, but George laughs softly, apparently coming to the conclusion that Sapnap’s still playing along with the bit.
“It’s because he’s tiny,” George says with another laugh, and Sapnap feels a small pang of fear, even though Dream and George technically know about his regression, before George continues, “He’s shorter than me, and he’s mad about it.”
Sapnap’s not playing anymore. He wasn’t playing in the first place. He absolutely does not want to move his hands from his face, though, and he doesn’t feel like talking, either, so he just shakes his head.
“Oh, you’re not mad?” George asks teasingly.
“George, I don’t think he’s joking,” Dream says quietly, but George ignores him.
“Of course you aren’t,” George tells Sapnap condescendingly. “Obviously, you’re perfectly okay with me being taller than you.”
Sapnap gives in, lifting his face from his hands to stare at George, whose grin instantly drops from his face.
“Sapnap, are you crying?” George asks in disbelief. “I- I didn’t- you- I thought you were joking!”
Sapnap shakes his head again.
“That’s what I said,” Dream says, sounding annoyed. “I told you he wasn’t joking.”
“I’m sorry,” George mumbles as Sapnap faceplants back into his hands. “I didn’t- are you okay?” Sapnap shakes his head. “I’m so, so sorry. You can say something if a bit is getting to be too much for you.”
Sapnap shrugs.
“Are you going to say anything?” Dream asks.
Sapnap hesitates. He’s pretty tiny right now, like, too tiny to pretend he’s big if he says too much, but not too tiny to speak. So he whispers, “No,” wincing when his voice comes out small but hoping hoping hoping that they don’t notice.
“Your voice sounds a bit off,” George says thoughtfully, and Sapnap’s heart sinks.
“Well, he was just crying,” Dream points out.
“It’s not a just-been-crying off,” George argues. “It’s… I don’t know. Sounds like a child’s voice.”
Sapnap freezes in terror as Dream sucks in a breath. “Oh, Sapnap, are you- um, doing that age regression thing you told us about?”
Sapnap forces his head into a shallow nod. George exhales with a soft “oh” sound, then murmurs, “I made you so upset you regressed?”
Sapnap nods again, to soft cooing from Dream and George.
“Sap, can you pick your head up for me?” Dream asks gently. Sapnap lifts his head a bit to see Dream and George looking at him fondly, and that George went to his other side so he’s in the middle now. Dream leans forwards, cupping Sapnap’s face in his hands and wiping Sapnap’s tears away with his thumbs.
“How old are you?” George asks. Sapnap shyly holds up three fingers, prompting more cooes from Dream, who’s still cupping his face, and George.
“Do you have any things for when you regress?” Dream asks.
Sapnap shakes his head, accidentally knocking Dream’s hands off of his face and instantly longing for the physical contact to come back. Little Sap is always touch-starved (except for the first bit when he regresses from being overwhelmed), for reasons Big Sap can’t quite understand. Then he pauses, shrugging. He kinda has some littlegear, just a onesie and his stuffie, and he’s not sure if either of those count.
“Kinda?” Dream asks, confused.
“Yeah,” Sapnap mumbles. “Kin’a. Onesie ‘n’ ‘tuffie. Counts?”
“That counts as littlegear,” George confirms, to Sapnap’s delight. “Do you want me to get your things for you?”
Sapnap nods. “Box un’er bed.”
George nods back, hopping up and leaving the room. Sapnap looks at Dream for a moment, waiting for Dream to hug him or give him physical attention in some way, shape, or form, but Dream, curse him, can’t read Sapnap’s mind. So Sapnap whines softly, which makes Dream instantly snap his head up from his phone.
“What’s wrong, Sap?” Dream asks. Sapnap whines again, because Dream should know what he wants by this point! “I can’t know what you want if you don’t tell me, baby.”
Oh. That makes sense. So Sapnap mumbles, “Touches.”
“You want cuddles?” Dream asks, and Sapnap nods in confirmation. Dream smiles gently, pulling Sapnap into him in a side hug. Sapnap twists around so he’s in Dream’s lap, chest to chest with the taller man, and then puts his chin on Dream’s shoulder with a happy giggle.
“You’re a very cuddly baby,” Dream teases. Sapnap just giggles again, turning his face to press it into Dream’s neck.
A few minutes later, George comes back with Sapnap’s box of littlegear.
“Sap, baby,” Dream says softly to Sapnap, who was halfway asleep. “George is back with your box.”
“Papa?” Sapnap asks sleepily, turning his head on Dream’s shoulder to see George, who looks absolutely steamrolled at the nickname.
Then George agrees, “Papa,” glowing with pride.
Dream nudges Sapnap gently. Sapnap stands up carefully, nearly falling over until George steadies him. George sets the box down on the floor next to their streaming setup, opening it and pulling out Sapnap’s onesie - a short-sleeve black one with Sapnap’s flame logo on the chest - and the soft orange shorts he always wears when he’s tiny.
“You want help changing?” George asks. Sapnap nods, still too much asleep to argue, even if he’d wanted to.
Dream steadies Sapnap while George helps him out of his jeans and rough t-shirt and into the onesie. Once he’s done being changed, he rubs his wrist against his eyes. He’s still really tired.
“What’s your friend’s name?” Dream asks, and Sapnap suddenly realizes that George is holding out his small stuffie, a ginger kitty.
“Gingie,” Sapnap mumbles, hooking his fingers into his mouth and clutching Gingie to his chest with the other hand. George laughs softly, but Sapnap doesn’t understand why. Gingie is just his name, it’s not funny!
“Sorry, love,” George says, covering his mouth with his hand. “That’s a nice name.”
Sapnap nods, satisfied, then yawns.
“I think it’s someone’s naptime,” Dream says.
Sapnap shakes his head with a whine. “Wan’ ‘tay wif Dada ‘n’ Papa!”
“You can, love,” George assures him. “We can all take a nap together, right, Dream?”
“Right,” Dream agrees. “I can even carry you to, um, my bed’s the biggest, I think? Yeah, we can all take a nap together in my room, and I can carry you there.”
Sapnap hesitates. “Nap wif Dada ‘n’ Papa?”
“Exactly,” George confirms.
Sapnap nods. “‘Kay.” He holds one hand out to Dream, the one with Gingie in it, keeping the other one in his mouth.
Dream lifts Sapnap up and holds him on his hip, then starts down the hall towards his room with George close behind.
Almost before Sapnap knows what’s happening, he’s cuddled up in Dream’s bed, with Dream on one side and George on the other, both facing towards him. He cooes gently, curling up into a ball, pressed against George with Dream squished up behind him.
“Goodnight, baby,” Dream murmurs, kissing Sapnap’s head.
“Night night, love,” George echoes, running his fingers through Sapnap’s hair.
“Nini Dada Papa,” Sapnap mumbles back. “Love’u.”
“Love you too,” Dream and George say together.
As Sapnap drifts off to sleep, he can’t remember ever being happier.
Not even when he hit a million subscribers.