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Everything was set up for a quiet, cozy evening. Ilya was tucked into Shane’s lap, wrapped up in his cloud blanket with Bunny clutched securely against his chest. He was even wearing Shane’s yellow sweater, the sleeves swallowing his hands completely. And his pastel blue pacifier was between his lips.
Usually, the combination worked like a charm. Except that day.
No matter how hard Ilya tried to sink into that hazy fog, his brain stayed stubbornly wide awake. The frustrating friction between his tiredness and his overly active mind was making him miserable. Every time he felt himself drift just a millimeter toward that sweet headspace, a wave of restless unease pulled him right back out.
He squirmed for the hundredth time, kicking his legs under the blanket and letting out a muffled whine around his pacifier. Squeezing Bunny too tight, he buried his face into the crook of Shane’s neck.
Shane kept his arms wrapped around Ilya, feeling every frustrated huff and every restless squirm. He smoothed a palm over Ilya’s back, “Still too loud up there?” he murmured softly, pressing a gentle kiss into his curls.
Ilya let out another sad noise, his brows furrowing as he spit out the paci and let it dangle from its clip, “I am tired, Shane. I want it to be quiet, but it is not working,”
It was agonizing. He could feel the soft fog hovering just out of reach, teasing him from the edges of his mind, but every time he tried to reach for it, it slipped away. The harder he tried to force himself to relax, the more his frustration grew. He just wanted to shut his eyes, suck on his paci and drop, but his stupid mind wouldn’t let him.
His lower lip trembled, and when he looked up at Shane, his eyes were filled with tears.
“Is stupid,” he sniffled, pressing his cheek against Shane’s chest to hide his face.
Shane’s heart squeezed at the misery in Ilya’s voice. He immediately adjusted his grip, wrapping his arms tighter around the yellow, sad bundle in his lap.
“I know, love,” Shane whispered as he began rubbing slow circles across Ilya’s back, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Ilya’s temple, “Sometimes our brains are just tired and stubborn,”
Ilya just let out a shaky breath against Shane’s chest. He didn’t cry yet, his hand clutching Bunny’s long ear.
“Tell me what you need, sweetheart,” Shane coaxed, his other hand moving up to cup the back of Ilya’s head, cradling him close, “Do you know what would make it better? How can I help?”
Ilya gave a tiny shake of his head, “Do not know,” he mumbled, “Just…want to drop. Want you,”
“I’m right here, I’ve got you,” Shane murmured, rocking him back and forth in a tiny sway. He held Ilya while his mind worked through the problem. Ilya was too overwrought for a comfort like a book or a coloring page. He needed something that required zero effort from his tired brain.
Then, a sudden idea clicked in his head. A couple weeks ago, when he’d been browsing for little stuff, he had ordered a baby bottle. It had arrived discreetly, and was currently tucked away in the back of the kitchen cabinet behind the tea boxes. He hadn’t brought it up yet because he didn’t want to overwhelm Ilya with too many new things at once. But now it seemed like a perfect opportunity to introduce it.
“I think I have an idea,” Shane whispered softly into his curls, “Something really special,”
Ilya blinked up at him through lashes, his lower lip trembling just enough to show that the tears were right on the edge of spilling over. He looked so small, holding onto Shane like a lifeline while he still tried to fight with his brain.
Shane caught Ilya’s cheek in his palm, thumb sweeping away the one tear that had managed to slip, “Can you be my brave boy and wait right here for a moment? I need to go to the kitchen really quick, okay?”
Ilya’s brows furrowed, letting out a whimper in protest, fingers tightening instantly around the fabric of Shane’s t-shirt. The thought of losing Shane’s comforting warmth, even for a moment, made his bottom lip wobble even worse. He gave a desperate shake of his head, whining.
“I know, I know,” Shane cooed, running his fingers through Ilya’s golden curls, “I won’t be long, I promise. Just stay right here wrapped in your clouds with Bunny. Hold her really tight for me, yeah? I’ll be back before you know it,”
Ilya sniffled, his big, blue eyes searching Shane’s face for reassurance. Very slowly, he let his grip slip from Shane’s t-shirt, pulling Bunny flush against his chest and burying his nose into the plush fur.
Shane smiled, giving Ilya’s knee a squeeze. Before he pulled away completely, he reached down to grab the pacifier dangling from its clip against the yellow sweater.
“Here, my sweet boy. Put this back in,” he whispered, nudging the teat against Ilya’s lower lip.
Ilya opened his mouth just enough for Shane to slip the paci in. He closed his lips around it and automatically started sucking. Having the familiar weight between his lips, and Bunny’s soft fur against his face, made the sudden distance a little easier to bear.
Shane quickly went to the kitchen, opening the cupboard and reaching past the tea boxes until his fingers brushed against the smooth glass of the hidden bottle. Pulling it out, he quickly rinsed it under the tap. He measured out the milk, pouring it into the bottle and added a drop of vanilla before putting the bottle in the microwave.
Meanwhile, back on the couch, the two-minute wait felt like an eternity for Ilya.
Curled into a tight ball beneath his cloud blanket, he clung to Bunny. He kept his eyes glued to the kitchen doorway, his chest heaving with tiny sobs, still trying to sink into his headspace. But it didn’t work. He squirmed in his place, legs kicking underneath the blanket. He just wanted his Shane back.
In the kitchen, Shane tested a drop of the milk on the inside of his wrist. The temperature was perfect and he hoped it would help Ilya to finally drop. He quickly walked back into the living room, melting at the sight of his boy waiting for him on the couch.
Ilya’s big, glossy eyes locked onto Shane the second he stepped back into the living room, and the sight of him made the last of Ilya’s control crack. Fresh tears spilled over the brims of his eyes, sliding down his flushed cheeks as he let out a shaky sob around his dummy.
Shane kept the warm bottle in one hand and immediately dropped down onto the cushion, opening his arms wide, “Hey, hey…what are all these tears for, bubba? I’m right here,”
Ilya scrambled forward, kicking off his blanket to throw himself right back into Shane’s lap. He buried his face against Shane’s neck, wrapping his arms tight around his shoulders, clinging to him.
Shane wrapped his arms securely around him, resting his chin on Ilya’s curls and rocking him gently while Ilya’s chest heaved with quiet sniffles.
“Shh, you’re okay, love. I’ve got you,” Shane cooed softly, “You’re so tired, I know. Just let it out, you’re completely safe,”
Ilya melted into the touch, his body going heavy and lip as the panic melted away under Shane’s gentle hands. He stayed tucked away against Shane’s neck for a long moment, taking shuddering breaths until the tears finally stopped.
Only then did Ilya pull back just enough to wipe his nose on his sleeve. His tear-filled eyes caught the bottle Shane was still holding and his brows scrunched up in a confused, little frown.
Shane noticed, bringing the bottle up slowly, “Look what I made you,” he whispered, rubbing Ilya’s back, “I know it’s new, but I thought it might help you feel all warm and cozy. But listen to me, no pressure at all, okay? We can just try it. If you don’t like it, we won’t use it ever again. Deal?”
Ilya stared at the bottle for a few seconds, the wheels in his head working. The silicone teat looked slightly intimidating, but the faint sweet scent of vanilla drifted up between them, making his tummy rumble a bit. His Shane had never lied to him, never forced him into anything, and always knew exactly how to make him feel safe. So if Shane thought this would help, he trusted him completely.
Slowly, he spat his dummy out, letting it drop against the yellow sweater, and gave a small nod.
“Hold it?” he rasped out, eyes gazing up in quiet plea. He didn’t want to control anything right now, he just wanted Shane to take care of everything, “You hold it for me?”
Shane’s heart squeezed at the trust in Ilya’s face, “Of course, my sweet boy,” he murmured, gently adjusting Ilya in his arms so his head rested comfortably in the crook of his arm.
He made sure Ilya was completely supported and pulled the cloud blanket back over his legs. With his free hand, Shane gently brought the silicone nipple up to Ilya’s lips.
Ilya hesitated, lashes fluttering against his flushed cheeks, before opening his mouth just enough to accept it. He latched around the nipple, taking the first suckle.
The moment the warm and sweet milk hit his tongue, a soft sigh escaped him. Shane held the bottle at the angle so the flow of the milk was just perfect for Ilya, watching him with a tender, fond smile.
As Ilya started suckling rhythmically, his furrowed brows finally smoothed out. The milk worked like absolute magic. With every swallow, the sharp edges in Ilya’s head began to dissolve, melting into a syrupy fog. The suffocating frustration that had kept him trapped finally evaporated.
His eyes, wide and glossy, remained locked onto Shane’s. He couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. Shane was his entire word.
As Ilya kept suckling, his hand drifted upward, fingers tangling into the fabric of Shane’s t-shirt, clinging to him out of complete, unconditional devotion.
Shane kept his gaze pinned on his beautiful boy, watching the shift happen right in front of him. He saw the exact second the heavy adult tense left Ilya’s face. Hid blue eyes grew hazy and unfocused, eyelids fluttering shut before lazily opening again. The stubborn, loud noise in Ilya’s head had finally gone dead silent, and got replaced by the sweet quiet he’d been begging for.
“That’s it,” Shane cooed softly, “Just let go. I’m holding you, I’ve got yours sweet milk…just slip down for me, love,”
A tiny, contented hum vibrated in Ilya’s throat, his sucking slowing down to a relaxed rhythm. Cradled against Shane’s chest and filled with the soothing warm milk, he felt so impossibly safe, slipping further and further into the safest fuzziness he had ever known.
Shane smiled, his heart aching with pure affection and love as he watched Ilya’s lashes finally settle against his cheeks.
Gradually, the bottle was completely empty. Ilya kept on suckling, trying to pull more milk from the teat. Not wanting him to swallow air, Shane gently eased the nipple out from between Ilya’s lips.
The moment it slipped away, Ilya’s face scrunched up into an offended, sleepy scowl. He let out a tiny, high-pitched whine of protest, chasing the bottle with his mouth.
“Shh, I know,” Shane whispered, grabbing the pacifier and brushing its teat against Ilya’s bottom lip.
Ilya immediately closed around it, taking a few, automatic suckles before his face completely smoothed out again. He gave a soft sigh, his cheek resting flush against Shane’s chest.
Shane set the empty bottle on the side table and looked down at him, smiling. He could tell by the limp weight of Ilya’s body that he dropped incredibly deep this time. Deeper than usual. But that was okay. No matter how big Ilya was, no matter if he regressed to a toddler, or dropped all the way down into a tiny baby, it didn’t change a single thing. He would always be Shane’s baby, always safe, protected, and loved.