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Shane hollander was facing stress and overstimulation, he noticed his behaviour when he gets overstimulated is he just shuts down. Doesn’t speak, hushed words if he does. His eyes will water, and he’ll try and keep them open in order not to blink and let the tears fall. More and more these days it’s been happening so he started researching.
Shane felt the familiar tightening in his chest, a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. He knew this feeling all too well. The stress and overstimulation were taking their toll again, turning his mind into a chaotic jumble and his body into a tense, unresponsive lump.
He found an empty corner in his room. Sitting down on a couch, he rested his head in his hands and took slow, calming breaths. *Why does this keep happening?* he thought, his eyes closed tightly.
He looked through “coping mechanisms” about 2 hours deep into the Google rabbit hole, he saw an array of millions of different mechanisms.
Shane rubbed his temples, squinting at the screen.
*“Sensory diet? Grounding techniques? Oh god—do I need a weighted blanket?"* he muttered under his breath.
He scrolled faster when an ad popped up: “SPIKY FIDGET TOYS - 50% OFF FOR STRESSED-ONLY." A tired laugh escaped him.
"...Okay but,"
Shane mumbled to himself as he clicked on a video titled "HOW TO NOT CRY IN PUBLIC (TUTORIAL)",
"what if I just… hid in the locker room forever?" His eyes watered again out of sheer exhaustion from research overload.
Shane had to force himself to close all the tabs overlapping, he took a minute to breath. He opened it up again after he took a sip of water, going back to the
“Easy healthy coping mechanism with no side affects for people facing overstimulation”
The screen blinked at him as if saying,
“Good choice, buddy!"
Shane sighed in relief and scrolled the page. *Ok. Healthy, easy, and no side effects... That's doable. Right?* He read through the list of suggestions, nodding slightly as he skimmed. Some he'd heard of before; others felt a bit... too crunchy for him.
He paused upon reading “Deep breathing exercises." Shane knew this one—his therapist had recommended it a few months back during a particularly tough game but it didn’t feel like it did enough. He scrolled some more, he found “quick and portable” he clicked on the link quickly, it wasn’t a website but a Reddit post. The page loaded, revealing an array of comments on various mobile coping mechanisms.
“Noise-cancelling headphones.”
He had a good pair lying at the bottom of his gym bag right now. The last time he'd used them was at an airport - to drown out screaming children. Shane scrolled some more when he stumbled upon a blog on Twitter explaining “age regression”. It felt intimidating but also Shane needed something that sticks, that helps. Not just fidget toys and yoga, because he had tried those and it wasn’t working he needed something new..
Shane's breath hitched as he read, his fingers hovering over the screen. *"Age regression?"* The term felt... big. Scary, even.
He scrolled down to comments:
"It’s like resetting your brain when everything feels too loud."
“I cry immediately and then I feel better??? Super helpful."
His throat tightened. That sounded close to what he already did on accident—the quieting down, the watery eyes… except maybe this time with permission.
Shane bookmarked the tweet, he closed the laptop. He tried to forget about it, but all throughout practice the next day and when he tried to sleep he kept thinking maybe it would help, maybe it would help a lot.
He come home after practice that day, he opened his laptop faster than he should’ve.
Shane's fingers fumbled as he reloaded the laptop, his heartbeat loud in his ears. the tweet was still there, bookmarked and mocking him with its quiet “I told you so."
He scrolled through the blog again, slower this time. His eyes snagged on:
“Small comforts for when big emotions are too heavy."
A photo followed—a weighted blanket draped over a stuffed animal sitting on a pastel-colored bed.
That looked… stupidly comforting? But also terrifyingly vulnerable? Shane bit his lip hard enough to sting before muttering: *"...Okay but like.. what if I just tried it once?"
Shane clicked on the page, he searched more and more and by the time 2 hours or so had passed he had a pretty good frame on what age regression was.
The more he read, the more it made sense. The quieting of overwhelming emotions, the need for comfort items. He remembered hiding under his blankets as a kid when his parents fought, clutching his stuffed dolphin. At the time, it felt weak. Childish. But now... maybe even then he was just trying to cope.
Shane searched on YouTube for the same thing, some videos didn’t look promising and made him feel almost guilty but he managed to find a video that seemed to explain it in simple terms for “new littles or cgs”
That was his new favorite term: *"littles."* It sounded soft, sweet. *Innocent.* Shane swallowed hard and opened the video.
The woman on-screen was friendly and dressed in cozy, colorful loungewear.
“Age regression is a perfectly normal, healthy coping mechanism for managing stress and feelings." Shane's shoulders relaxed slightly. *Okay. Good start.*
He watched, his expression a curious mix of hope and disbelief. She talked about "regressing" and "caregivers" and Shane was trying to take notes, maybe make a plan like he did for everything.
As the video ended, Shane thought to himself *“no one can know, not Ilya or Hayden or JJ or mom..”*
Shane's thoughts chased each other in dizzying circles. Ilya and Hayden would think he was insane. JJ would probably laugh, then use it as fuel for future chirping jokes. His mom? Hell no. She'd worry way too much.
He thought of them all, their faces crumpling at the mention of pacifiers or stuffed animals. He could imagine them saying, “Dude, you're a grown man. You play hockey for a living. Grow up. Get your head out of your ass. Act your age, not your shoe size."
Shane shook his head to try and shake the thoughts away. Shake the tears away.
He opened Twitter again, and he searched “how to start regressing”. Simple, but it still made Shane’s stomach twist as he wrote it.
Okay, just breathe. He was just... researching, that's all. He was just thinking about age regression, not doing it.
The first result caught his eye: “A Beginner's Guide to Age Regression." Shane clicked on it with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. His eyes skimmed the text:
“It's common for new regressors to feel confused, scared, or even ashamed..." Shane gripped his knees.
Shane scrolled down to finally see the easy “steps”. Shane let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Steps. That helped. He liked steps.
He read through them, They were surprisingly simple. He could do this. He wanted to do this, even if it was in secret.
Step One: Find a safe space.
Shane looked around his room. This was his space.
Step Two: Gather your comfort items.*
This one was harder. Because it required actually having said items.
Shane glanced around his room again but there was... nothing. No stuffed animals or pacifiers or cute blankets. Just hockey gear, trophies, and dirty clothes. He frowned.
Wait. There was something. A plush, stuffed dolphin he kept hidden in his dresser drawer since he was five. He'd forgotten about it actually. He bit his lip, hesitating. Shane decided oh well, fuck it. He took it out, he also took a printed picture frame he had of him and his family as kids and then another of his team winning the cup. He grabbed his favorite hoodie, and changed into warm socks.
Shane spread his new comfort items on the bed in front of him. The dolphin's black button eyes stared back at him, soft and familiar. His family photo was wrinkled and worn, a reminder of simpler times and his team photo with him in the middle with his best friends.
Step Three: Get in a comfortable seated or lying position.
Shane took a deep breath. He knew how to do this too. He lay down on his bed, arranging his pillows for maximum comfort. He put the dolphin against his chest, its soft fabric surprisingly comforting. He gripped the pictures in his hands, studying his younger self's wide-eyed smile.
Shane started to bite at his bottom lip as he went to the next step.
Step Four: Take deep breaths and relax.
Shane closed his eyes, concentrating on the steady in-and-out of his breathing.
His muscles loosened one by one, He could do this. He could be calm.
He ran his thumb over the dolphin's soft, worn fabric, his breaths slowing.
Shane felt himself start to tear up,.. was this supposed to happen. He brought the tip of the dolphins tail up to his mouth, it felt.. right.
Shane's breath hitched as the tears came, hot and sudden. He didn't expect that but it didn't feel wrong either. Just heavy, like a dam breaking after weeks of holding back.
The dolphin’s tail against his lips was soft, no more overstimulation, no more dieting eating at him from inside out. It was something so simple making him feel safe for once.
“Fuck,” Shane whispered around damp fabric before letting out a shaky exhale that sounded suspiciously close to relief crying instead of panic-crying for once…
Shane started to sob, the laptop forgotten. He wasn’t sobbing out of anger or frustration but he just.. he didn’t even know. He gwaned at the tail, rocking himself softly. As he calmed down he felt himself drift off to sleep.
Shane woke up feeling so much better, he’s never slept as good as he just did. The dolphin was still in his arms, he squeezes it softly before his mind starts racing.
His stomach dropped like a puck to, he’d actually done it.
But then he still wanted to do it again. It did help, it helped a lot. But Shane started to panic, what if Ilya found out, he’d. Was Shane broken was he- did Ilya want to be with someone like him?
Shane's breath came in short, frantic bursts as the panic tightened around his ribs. Ilya- God- Ilya would know something was wrong. He’d always noticed too much.
And then worse, did Ilya even want to be with someone who… who needed a stuffed dolphin to sleep? Who cried like a little kid over nothing? Shane pressed his fists into his eyes hard enough to see stars.
“This is so fucking pathetic," he choked out, voice cracking under the weight of shame and fear twisting together in his gut.
But then worst thought of all, What if Ilya didn't care? What if that was worse than him being repulsed? Because what kind of person stays when they realize you're like this?
The dolphin stared up at him from where it had fallen onto the bedspread, innocent and soft-looking now instead terrifying.
Shane put the dolphin on the bedside table, he tried to get up and get ready for practice, and Ilya was coming since they played Ottawa today. He took off the hoodie and folded it and put it back in the back of his closet where it belongs.
Shane's hands shook as he smoothed out the hoodie, shoving it behind his hockey gear like a guilty secret. The dolphin sat on the nightstand so he grabbed it and stuffed it into his top drawer, slamming it shut with too much force.
“Get your shit together," Shane muttered to himself in the mirror as he yanked on yesterday’s practice jersey. His reflection looked tired, pale from crying all night.
He scrubbed at his face roughly with cold water before chugging half a bottle of water straight from the tap.
The front door opened downstairs; Ilya was back early for some reason today…
Panic flared white-hot down Shane’s spine, *Did I leave anything lying around? Does my voice sound weird? Oh god oh god-*
Footsteps started up toward the bedroom and he could hear Ilya calling out for him.
Ilya opens the door and slots his bag to the side and goes up to shane and pulls him into a kiss.
Shane's body relaxed instinctively into the kiss, his hands coming up to grip Ilya’s wrists reflexively. He melted into Ilya's familiar touches. They don’t talk for a bit, like they usually do Ilya kisses him, but Shane is a bit hesitant so Ilya pauses
“Is different..”
Ilya pulls his head back, looking at Shane searching for answers in his face.
“Is it?” Shane’s voice cracked “different how?”
Ilya held him closer, he pouted and looked at Shane like “come on, just tell me”
It was always hard to hide things from Ilya, he knew him too well.
"I just... didn't sleep much, was all," he managed to say, but Ilya just kept looking at him and kept searching. “Me? Is me?” Ilya pointed at himself, lifting his eyebrows.
Ilya's question stopped Shane's heart mid-beat.
“No! No." He winced, cursing himself internally for being so obvious.
He tried to backtrack, forcing a reassuring smile. "It's not you, Ilya, it's... god- it's just..“
Shane trailed off, his gaze dropping away from Ilya's piercing eyes. “Hmm who? Pike? Is uh, Wyatt? I will kill them..”
"No, god, no." He reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Ilya's ear, letting his fingers linger against the man's face. "It's... it's not even about anyone. It's just... me. My own stupid brain, okay?"
Ilya looked at Shane’s head and then directed a finger at his forehead
“Stop annoying my Shane..”
Shane laughed, he felt a bit lighter.
"Stop being an idiot," Shane said fondly. "You can't just fix my brain with your finger, you know," he added with a grin.
Ilya looks back down at Shane and holds his cheeks with his hands
“You know I don’t want to fix you Shane..”
Shane swallowed back his emotions.
"You... you don't?" His voice came out small, like a kid asking for reassurance. "You don't mind that I'm... well, me?" He gestured vaguely to himself. “Shane, you will kill me.” Ilya picks up Shane and places him on the bed. “You won’t freak out?” Shane gripped Ilyas shirt. “Neyt, nothing you do will make me “freak out”..”
His hands relaxed their death-grip on Ilya’s shirt, instead moving to rest on the man's broad shoulders. He could feel the reassuringly solid weight of Ilya over him, pressing him into the mattress.
"What if I told you I did something... stupid. Really, really stupid."
“Hmm..”
Ilya pretends to think
“How stupid?”
Shane groaned and smacked Ilya's shoulder weakly..
"Just shut up," Shane muttered, trying to sound irritated and failing miserably. He was smiling now, in spite of the lump in his throat.
“I joke. It doesn’t matter how stupid, Shane. No thinking, I don’t care how stupid you do.”
Shane made a soft, muffled noise into Ilya's chest.
Part of him felt silly for needing something so childish. But another, quieter part of him felt lighter at Ilya's words.
It felt... nice, actually. Knowing that Ilya really wasn't going to make a big deal out of this. That he didn't care if Shane was weird or broken or-... whatever was wrong with him.
“But.. please tell me Shane, real stupid is when you don’t tell me.”
Shane let out a shaky laugh, burying his face even further into Ilya's chest. He felt raw and vulnerable but God, this was Ilya. The only person who ever made him feel safe enough to be weak sometimes.
"Okay... okay, I'll tell you. But first, promise me you won't laugh at me. Or make fun of me.”
“Hmm, no promises.” Ilya joked, kissing at Shane’s cheek
“Oh ha ha, so reassuring. Asshole.” Shane said, but there was no heat to it.
“I’d never laugh at you, at least not much.”
“Oh you’re so generous.. okay but I’m serious Ilya, I tell you, no laughing.”
“Okie, see, I have serious face now.”
For a second, Shane just stared at him before exhaling hard through his nose. “Fine.” He dragged the hood of his hoodie up over his head like armor.
“I... might've kind of maybe done age regression last night?" he blurted out in one rushed sentence, before burying his face in Ilya's shirt. Ilya looks at him, his face expression doesn’t change
“Uhm.. okay? Age regression- what is that?”
"It's—it's hard to explain, um-"
Shane fumbled for the right words, feeling 10x self-conscious suddenly. "It's like... going back to being a kid. For a little while."
“Okie..” Ilya nods, waiting for Shane to go on
Shane swallowed again, his throat dry. Ilya didn't seem disgusted... or even surprised. How could he be so *casual* about something like this?
Shane shifted awkwardly, feeling every inch the anxious mess he was trying to hide. "Um... yeah. So it's-it's supposed to be like... It's like... a coping mechanism. For stress or anxiety or-"
“Stress getting worse, moy lyubov?”
Shane fidgeted with the sleeve of his hoodie. "It's been... a lot lately, Practices, games, media, sponsors-" He laughed bitterly. "And then you know me. I'm great at bottling all my feelings up."
“You didn’t tell me..” Ilyas voice is a little hurt
"I know," he said quietly. "I didn't want to worry you. I can handle it, I always..”
“We said we would be honest.. is okay, I forgive you, because you give me this now. This uh, age regulations.”
Shane forced out a shaky laugh, still clutching the hood of his hoodie. "It's not regulations, idiot," he muttered, trying to mask his relief. "It's regression.”
“Is not stupid, stupid is like.. keeping secret from boyfriend.”
“Okay fair..” Shane let out another laugh, but then he hesitated into a quieter voice
“Just didn’t know how you’d react.”
“I am hurt, am I evil Shane? Big bad evil Russian wolf?”
“Oh god no! You’re not- that’s not what I meant-“
“Shhh shut up, shut up little sheep.”
“Ouch..” Shane says with a chuckle, well this wasn’t so bad.
“Because little sheep says “I don’t deserve you”… stupid sheep- Oh no, stupid is bad word. Swear Jar for me!”
Shane rolled his eyes affectionately. Ilya was so ridiculous sometimes, turning everything into a game to put him at ease.
“Shane, tell me more. About this, kid thing.”
He exhaled shakily before muttering “It's not a 'kid thing'—it's just..." Shane gestured vaguely with one hand, struggling for words. “I cry? A lot? And I get tired of being grown-up Shane all the time."
The admission felt too raw, like he’d ripped off a bandaid and bled in front of him.
“How old? Can you go back.. now, with me? I want to see, want to see baby shane.” Ilya tried to lift Shane’s face from his chest.
Shane's breath stuttered. “Now?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it. “I-I don't know... I mean..."
A shaky nod escaped him before he could second-guess it “okay..”
“How old?” Ilya asked curiously. Shane bit his lip, fingers twisting the fabric of Ilya's shirt. “I don't know... maybe five? Six?" he mumbled after a pause, avoiding Ilya's eyes. “Not like... not little little."
“can you go younger?” Ilya slowly starts to wrap Shane up like a burrito with the blanket. He used to do it with his neice, maybe Shane would like.
“Uhm.. yes, maybe 3?” Shane did feel a bit better with the blanket but his mind rushed with all these thoughts, would he even be able to do with Ilya, would Ilya be okay when it actually happens..
Ilya could see the worry on his face,
“Is new for you too moy lyubov?”
“Yeah.. but I trust you.” Shane smiled, he swallowed hard trying to swallow all these thoughts and doubts.
“Okie.. how it start?”
"I don't know... I just kind of..." a pause. His fingers curled tighter into the blanket before adding quietly “..Cry first?"
“Cry? Sad?” Ilya seems upset, he didn’t want Shane to be upset.
"No, not sad. It's... it's just overwhelmed. Tears just happen sometimes."
“Uh huh.. okay, is okay, I understand.” Ilya slowly brushes through Shane’s hair. Ilya took him into his arms and coddled him, slowly rocking back and forth
“You cry now?”
Shane felt like he was something small and delicate in Ilya's arms. Shane could feel himself sinking into it. Into Ilya's arms, against his chest, into that familiar, achingly safe feeling. Shane buried his face in Ilya's shoulder, shoulders shaking as the tears started. It started just a trickle, quiet and slow at first. A sniffle. Then a shudder. Then he was suddenly sobbing. Ilya didn’t know what to say, he couldn’t find words in English. He kissed the top of his head and rocked him slower.
“Ya s toboy, malysh..”
The tears slowed to quiet sniffles as exhaustion pulled at him after a while of just sitting in Ilyas arms, being coddled, hiding his face in Ilyas shoulder.
“Good now?”
Shane let out a shaky, wet laugh against Ilya's shoulder. “Mhm..” He nuzzled closer with a quiet sigh. “Sorry..”
“Is okay, Shane, is okay. Don’t say sorry. Now baby yes?”
Shane nodded against Ilya's chest. he was letting himself want it, want this, want to feel small and young and cared for. “Awww.. want to see.” Ilya puts his hands at Shane’s chin wanting to lift it. Shane exhaled shakily and tipped his chin up just enough to peek at Ilya through damp lashes. “Happy?"
“Da.. now what? Nap?” Ilya said with a stupidly soft grin. Shane nodded and mumbled a soft “mkay..”. Shane pointed at his bottom drawer, Ilya reached inside and took the dolphin, lifted it for Shane to see.
“Oh who’s this malysh?”
Shane let out a giggle as Ilya handed him the stuffed dolphin. He nodded and babbles, "fanks ee-ya..”
“Takiye malen'kiye...” Ilya mumbles, fixing them into the bed so Shane was comfortable and he was coddling him. Shane didn't understand a word of what Ilya said, but the tone was clear enough. Ilya's arms were so strong and safe, and he was saying all these sweet, soft words in Russian
Shane was getting sleepy now, he yawned and rubbed his eyes. He had just woken up 2 hours ago, but he was surprisingly down for a nap until he had to go to practice. “kroshechnyy..” Ilya said in a baby talk tone, cooing softly. Ilya kept rocking him, and continued to baby talk him in Russian, Shane couldn’t understand any of the words but he understood the tone, and maybe he felt even smaller when he couldn’t understand. Like an actual baby, not understanding but fully trusting Ilya. Shane was exhausted and Ilya was holding him tight, and his eyelids were just so heavy. He wanted to stay awake but it was a losing battle. “Spi seychas, malysh, tebe nuzhen otdykh. Akh, ty takoy... utee-poutee utee-poutee!”
Shane made little mumbling sounds against Ilya's shoulder, he knew Ilya was speaking to him, saying something sweet and silly. Ilya squeezed him as he rocked him to sleep
“Kach-kach malysh..”
His fingers loosened slightly around the dolphin as his breathing evened out into slow, steady puffs against Ilya's chest.
The last thing Shane registered before sleep took him completely was feeling of being held. It really wasn't stupid to need this kind of comfort after all, Shane thought as he finally fell asleep.