A loud vibration from the nightstand awoke Wes, who found himself still holding onto his toddlerfied neighbor. Wes rubbed the sleep from his eyes and picked up his phone; he almost answered it before realizing the obvious problem with such a scenario. Seeing the call was from his chief, a hot panic quickly spread through Wes’s small body. He’d been so caught up in the events of yesterday that he’d entirely forgotten about his adult life and upcoming responsibilities. Wes promptly denied the call and waited nervously, only to see a voicemail notification appear 30 seconds later. His finger hovered apprehensively over the play button, but he finally gave in.
The voice on the phone was unmistakably displeased. “Wes, where the hell are you!? You said you were covering this shift for Ferguson, and it’s been 2 hours! Are you showing up today or what?! Call me,” and the memo was over.
Hearing this reprimand made Wes feel so immature and incapable. He felt just like the little boy he’d become, like he needed to be scolded to be taught a lesson. The chief’s gruff voice seemed to snap something back into place in Wes’s head—that this was all wrong, that Wes was not at all where he needed to be, and that something desperately needed to be fixed. He got up from the bed in a haste, careful not to disturb Clark, who, still sleeping, innocently sucked his thumb.
Wes reflected on his current stature and the ridiculous situation he found himself in. I can’t do this anymore…
He left the bedroom and gently closed the door, phone in hand, ready to return to his own apartment next door to sort things out with work and take a break from this absurd charade of juvenile domesticity. Nick, though, dressed only in a pair of black boxer-briefs, stood in the kitchen, busy preparing breakfast.
“Morning, Wes!” Nick was awfully cheerful, and Wes bitterly resented that Nick, not he, was granted the privilege of waking up to an adult body this morning. “You want eggs? How do you like them?”
“No, I’m good. I have to go.” Wes replied, not taking the time to stop and face the man in the kitchen.
“Wait,” Nick prodded, confused, “where are you going? What’s up?”
“Nick, I’m done.” Wes finally stopped to properly acknowledge him. “I can’t play big brother anymore. I have a life. A job. I have things I need to do, and putting diapers on my neighbor with an adult mind trapped in a toddler body is not one of them.”
Nick stepped away from the stove to extend a beckoning hand toward the frustrated 9-year-old. “Wes, please! I know it’s not ideal, but I really still need you to take care of Clark.” Nick inched closer to the boy, who was wary of the closing distance between them. “If you stay, I’m pretty sure I can get this done today! If I have to watch Clark, though, that’s gonna take up so much of my time, and your time by extension!”
Wes was unmoved by Nick’s testimony and turned back toward the door. “Just come get me when you’re d—,”
Nick had just as soon closed the distance between them and grabbed the boy’s wrist, more so out of desperation than malice. “Wes… Just… Can you go check on Clark one last time before you go? That’s all I need, and then you can leave...” Nick pleaded.
Feeling that Nick may not actually let go of his arm should he reject the request, Wes begrudgingly accepted. “Fine, but I’m not changing him if he needs it. I’m only checking, then I’m gone.”
“Great!” Nick blurted out, already heading back to his room to resume his repairs, which was odd, Wes thought, as he hadn’t even touched the breakfast he had been working on.
Wes returned to Clark’s room, finding the little tot still comfortably tucked under the comforter. The older boy pulled the blanket back to feel Clark’s diaper. Thankfully, he had managed to keep this one dry overnight, which didn’t really matter to Wes anyway, since he certainly would not be the one to change it this time.
Wes turned to exit the room but found the imposing figure of Nick blocking his path to the door. Even in just his underwear, he emanated a certain daunting control over the boy, primarily owing to his naturally taller stature with their age difference and also the gun that was pointed right at Wes’s face.
“Nick! What the hell are you doing?!” Wes channeled his apprehension into rage, preparing to tackle the man before him and avoid whatever dastardly plan he had cooked up for him.
Before he could begin his assault, though, Nick had pulled the trigger, relieving Wes of any means to counter this surprise attack.
“Wes, I’m not doing this to be mean or vengeful, I swear!” But Nick’s words did little to comfort the shrinking boy before him. “It’s just… If you won’t watch Clark, then that severely delays things… So the solution is just to have Clark watch you...”
More and more, Wes’s features softened, shrunk, and rounded. The boy behind him on the bed grew steadily, and Nick had rushed over to deftly remove the toddler’s shirt before it could harm him in his unexpected growth spurt. Clark’s diaper, though, was left on, and the tapes ripped open as the boy’s body expanded rapidly.
Nick shifted his attention back to Wes. “I know this sucks, Wes, and I know I promised no more age changing until I was ready with the finalized gun, but that was under the assumption that I wouldn’t have to babysit anyone while I was working. This way, I still don’t have to watch anyone. I’m sorry, but the gun should probably be ready by late tonight if I’m fast, so it’s only for the day, okay?”
Wes couldn’t believe what was happening; he stepped out of the discarded briefs and t-shirt and inspected his chubby little tummy, his stubby little fingers, and his nubby little toy that dangled innocently between his wobbly legs. He had just remarked internally last night, that he had been spared this awful humiliation, and here it was… happening to him. It was all he could do to plop helplessly onto his little butt and sit in resignation.
“Clark, wake up, dude,” Nick gently shook the 9-year-old awake.
“Hrrmmmmm…?” Clark grumbled. He brought his hands to his face to rub his eyes but soon took note of the sheer size of them. “Wait, Nick!? How am I older?” Clark inspected his naked form, lying atop a no longer needed remnant of his toddlerhood. Finally, he peaked over the edge of the bed to find what could only be the 2-year-old version of Wesley, sitting indignantly up against the side of the bed.
Clark was too tired and surprised to fully appreciate the situation, but he was happy to be back up to boyhood; although, he wasn’t sure he should really be all too grateful for a chance to be 9-years-old.
Nick sat on the bed, taking a deep breath, relieved after having performed this unintentionally underhanded endeavor. “He wanted to leave, Clark, and I can’t afford anymore distractions or holdups right now, so since he didn’t wanna take care of you anymore, I had to improvise. Think you can do this for me for just the day? Gun should be ready as early as tonight, so it shouldn’t be too long.”
Clark looked down at Wes, his loving caretaker and chaperone through yesterday’s fun exploits, now not but a baby himself. A smile, both affectionate and conniving, formed on Clark’s face. “Yeah man, I got this! Lemme just get dressed really quick.” He got up off the bed, careful to not step on the brooding little boy below him and moved to the dresser where he kept the boy-sized clothing that he had taken from Nick’s room the other night. Without much thought, he adorned himself in just tighty whities and a black Batman tank top.
Seeing Clark at this age again brought forth the memories of their Friday night juvenile intimacy together, however stunted it may have been. Nick smiled over at the boy. “Happy to be out of diapers, Clark?” he teased.
“Oh, yeah cuz you know I love tighty whities,” Clark snidely shot back.
Nick laughed. He brought a hand to his chin, seemingly inspecting Clark’s reduced form. “Well, ya know… you’d like pretty cute in them at your normal age.”
Clark raised a dubious brow at the man’s suggestion before looking down to inspect the briefs and the way he didn't quite fill them out as much as he could at 29. He playfully snapped the waistband of his white undies and laughed. “That really what you’re into, man?”
“Hey, I’m just sayin’…” Nick shrugged playfully.
“Hmm…” Clark pondered, “We’ll see…” before finally offering up a mischievous wink.
Wes, thoroughly discontented with every aspect of his predicament, scoffed at hearing this exchange.
“Someone’s grumpy.” Clark mocked, getting the naked boy to sternly cross his arms and turn away.
Nick rose from the bed and headed for the door. “Give him a break, dude. He did a lot for us yesterday.”
Clark moved in front of the toddler, looming over him at his towering new height. “Yeah, well… yesterday’s yesterday. We’ll see about today.”