A sudden knock came at the door, jerking Oliver out of his thoughts and making the boy leap about a foot in the air. His big bright eyes went moon wide as he spun in the direction of the sound, all of his giddiness and excitement quickly replaced by the gripping fear that kept him frozen in place.
"Babe? You home?"
"Oh no," Oliver peeped. Of all the people he didn't want to see right now, David was at the top of the list. Besides the fact that they'd been going through a bit of a rough patch of late, the boy had no idea how he was going to explain that the little pre-schooler in the Sesame Street undies was in fact his adult boyfriend. If he couldn't, what would happen? Would David call the police? Social Services? The Mayor? Oliver's childish imagination concocted grander and more terrifying scenarios with each passing second, and it was only because he and David were separated by the front door that he was able to keep himself from freaking out entirely.
That lasted until he heard a key turning in its lock.
The boy went numb. His jaw dropped. He'd completely forgotten that he'd given David a key for emergencies.
"Shit!" Oliver squeaked as he was finally spurred into motion by the turning of the knob. He had to get back into his grown-up clothing before David could catch him like this - but, not yet used to the mechanics of his four-year-old form, he succeeded only in tripping over his tiny feet as he turned to make a break for his room. The boy cried out as he tumbled to the ground and his knees skidded against the carpet. Though he knew on an intellectual level that the minor pain of the rugburn was nothing to cry about, tears came to Oliver's eyes all the same, the boy sniffling and shaking as he struggled to rein the half of himself that wanted nothing more than to break down bawling. That impulse only grew stronger when David entered the room, Oliver dying with shame to know that his boyfriend had seen him on all fours with his little bottom - a bottom adorned with the smiling faces of Bert and Ernie - up in the air. Somehow, he gathered enough composure to get to his feet and look up - way up - at David, squirming where he stood as he met the eyes of the man who looked down - way down - at him with bemused puzzlement. Too embarrassed to meet David's gaze for long, he dropped his eyes to the carpet as he unknowingly he brought his tiny hands to the front of his undies as though that'd somehow help alleviate his state of near nudity. His cheeks burned scarlet and it seemed as though he still might break down crying at any moment. Oliver had never felt so small in his life - not since the last time he had been a little boy caught at doing something naughty.
"Er, hi there. Are you one of Connor and Jackson's friends?" David asked, using the names of Oliver's nephews as he spoke kindly and gently to the boy. His tone allowed Oliver to calm down a little, at least enough to look back up at David. His boyfriend had always been great with kids - Connor and Jackson loved to play with him when he was over, and Oliver suspected he enjoyed the playtime every bit as much. Still, since he wasn't really a little boy, Oliver wasn't sure how comfortable he was with being treated like one, though he might have to use that to his advantage if he was going to get out of this.
David watched Oliver curiously as the tyke built up his courage and spoke in his tiny, lilting chirp.