In another world, Federal Agent Scott Redfield moved deftly and silently through a warehouse steeped in shadows. He relied on his decades of experience and training to guide him through the darkness and towards the office jammed against the back of the building. Reaching its door, Scott paused just long enough to register the hushed voices on the other side and confirm that they belonged to a trio of gun runners that he’d spent the last few months tracking down. He slipped into the office with practiced precision, closing the door behind him and drawing his firearm all without making a peep. The runners remained blissfully unaware of Scott’s presence as he tiptoed into engagement range, his hard eyes narrowing at the massive pile of military surplus assault rifles stacked onto the table before them.
“FREEZE!” Scott shouted, relishing the shock of the death merchants as they leapt in surprise and spun to face the interloper. “FEDERAL AGENT! ON YOUR KNEES NOW!”
The runners, realizing that they’d been beat, reluctantly raised their palms and began lowering themselves to their knees – only to stop and look at Scott in sudden confusion, their baffled expressions giving way to snickers and vicious grins.
“I SAID ON YOUR KNEES!”
“Oh, we heard you.” The lead runner smirked as his chuckling buddies pointed at Scott while whispering amongst themselves. “But I think you’ll be the one dropping to your knees – your hands and knees, that is. How old were you when you learned to walk, big guy?”
Scott’s final warning for the runners died on his lips when he saw the cuffs of his increasingly baggy sleeves slipping over his hands. Startled by the impossible sight, the horrified agent yelped and instinctively stepped back – only for his shrinking feet to trip on wingtips that were several sizes too big for him. Tears sprung to the corners of his eyes as he tumbled back hard onto his butt, the humiliation of his fall amplified by the mortifying sight of his dwindling legs disappearing into his slacks. The cruel, hooting laughter of the runners echoed within the small room as Scott scuttled backwards away from them, the delighted criminals growing more and more terrifying the smaller he became. In his scuttling, Scott quickly lost all the clothes below his waist and soon grew too little even for his crisp Oxford shirt. The slimming shoulders of the panicking boy slipped through the neckhole of the button-down as he found himself backed up against the door he’d so confidently slipped through just moments prior, naked and terrified as he tumbled into toddlerhood.
“Aww, what a widdle cutie!” The leader of the runners declared as he knelt down to tickle Scott beneath his quivering chin and poke his chubby tummy. He seemed positively ravenous as his eyes met those of the federal agent turned whimpering tot. “I could just eat. You. All. Up.”
The tiny boy was so terrified that it was a moment before he registered the wet warmth pooling beneath him. It was when Scott realized he was wetting himself in terror – piddling onto the floor like a trembling puppy – that his last store of fortitude finally crumbled. The infantilized agent reared back to wail like the baby he’d become but was denied even that indulgence, as the lead runner produced a pacifier from thin air and popped it into his open mouth. Horrified as Scott was at how his lips instinctively clamped down on that soothing bit of rubber, even that was not as emasculating as the mere sight of the bottle of baby powder suddenly wielded by one runner and the crinkly disposable diaper wielded by the other. And yet all he could do was sit there and suckle his dummy as they drew ever nearer with the infantile paraphernalia, powerless to do anything but wait for them to grab his chubby legs, slip that pair of Pampers beneath his plump little tush and –
“NO!”
Scott shouted as he sat bolt upright in bed and ripped himself free of the horrible nightmare, which had seemed so real that the boy was utterly relieved to find himself back in his eight-year-old form. In the next moment, however, he remembered how big and strong and capable he had been in the beginning of the dream – and it suddenly seemed very silly indeed that Scott was happy just to have kept his undies dry.
“Scott?”
The self-loathing agent yipped in surprise as a sleepy voice interrupted his pity party. Scott’s eyes, having adjusted to the darkness, could just barely make out Kai in the bed across from his.
“You okay, brudda?” The older boy drowsily asked. “Didja have a nightmare?”
“Yeah.” Scott managed, hating the tiny voice that peeped out of him, hating that Kai knew he was scared. “I’m okay, though.”
“Bound to get nightmares if you stuff your face like that right before going to sleep. It was awesome to see you shut Ernesto up, though.”
“Thanks.” As awful as the eight-year-old felt in that moment, Kai’s praise buoyed his spirits and made him feel that the stunt had maybe been worth it after all. “Sorry for yelling at you and Jackson too. Did I miss anything after I stormed out?”
“Not really. Jackson found the pool and spent hours figuring out what diving stunts he can still do. Ernesto tried to laugh off losing the bet but he was pissed when we played video games later. I kept needling him about it and he would get mad and then lose ‘cause he was mad and then get even madder. It was really funny.” Kai snickered and Scott followed suit, feeling a wonderful camaraderie with him just now – feeling like a bright-eyed kid laughing at a story told by his doting big brother. “Are you gonna be able to get back to dreamland? You can sleep in my bed tonight if it’d help.”
“…no, thanks.” Scott said after a moment’s thought, surprised by how attractive he found the offer. The dutiful agent knew that it would be dangerous to get too close to Kai, though, so as much as Scott liked the idea of being cuddled to sleep by the older boy he unfortunately had to refuse. “G’night.”
“Night.”
A rustle of the sheets and Scott was alone again. He sighed and closed his eyes but sleep seemed miles away, and as Scott chased it he started second-guessing his decision to turn down Kai’s offer. As mortifying as it had been in the moment, Scott had to admit that he kinda liked being held by the older boy during their rendezvous earlier in the day. It made him feel small to be snuggled against his will like that, yes, even powerless – but he also felt cared for in a way he hadn’t experienced in decades. Like everything would be okay if he just followed Kai’s lead.
Scott shook his head as he flipped his pillow, sighing and flopping against it. It wasn’t too difficult to understand why he might be infatuated with the attention of a kind older boy, especially at this age. He’d been in third grade when he first learned that it was possible to like both girls and boys, an answer to the question of why his heart skipped a beat when he thought about certain classmates of differing genders. This revelation came just after Scott had arrived at a new foster home, however, and he didn’t want to bother his temporary parents with any of the billion questions that arose in the aftermath of his epiphany. The middle-aged man and woman he stayed with before being selected for the academy were nice enough, but the father was never around and they didn’t have any kids of their own for Scott to hang out with – no older brother or father figure to provide guidance on this baffling aspect of himself as he marched blindly into his preteen years.
All of this was to say that Scott was aware of the possibility that he might be harboring a crush on Kai.
The spy knew how stupid it was to feel that way, knew he was being influenced by the brain chemistry of a child pushing him to idolize older male figures. Even if that wasn’t the case, the smoking gun Scott uncovered in the note was all the evidence he needed of Kai stringing him along. For his mission – for his country – he’d have to stay strong.
And yet…
Scott felt as though he were moving on autopilot as he slipped out from under the covers and tiptoed towards Kai’s bed. He rationalized that he’d keep his guard up, that he needed to create a full psychological profile on the older boy and that staying close to him would make it easier to do so. Even as he repeated these excuses, however, deep down Scott knew the truth. In that moment, he was a lonely, scared, frustrated little boy who’d had an awful day. All he wanted was to be held as he drifted off to sleep and hopefully to better dreams.
“Kai…?” Scott peeped, feeling so small standing there shivering in his Batman undies. “Are you awake?”
“Mmmf...I am now…”
“Sorry. I just, um…I was wondering, if it was still okay with you…could I, um…”
Kai was motionless for a moment. Then, without saying a word, he lifted the covers and held them up as Scott gratefully hopped into bed. Determined to take up as little space as possible, the smaller boy faced away from the larger and curled up on one side of the mattress. He didn’t realize that the position left him vulnerable to being spooned until Kai did just that, the eight-year-old eeping and blushing from head to toe as the twelve-year-old threw an arm over his scrawny chest and snuggled up behind him.
“Kai…?” Scott managed in a hoarse whisper, realizing with a tiny thrill that older boy, like him, wore undies and nothing else. “What’re you…?”
The only response he got was soft dozing – it seemed Kai fell under as soon as he cuddled up with his favorite little guy. Scott soon started to feel drowsy himself; lulled into relaxation by the heavy warmth of the bigger body secured against his smaller, more delicate form. He closed his eyes as he rooted himself a little deeper into Kai’s embrace, smiling in spite of everything as he drifted off to sleep.