Though adult Oliver fought with all his might, the scene David was painting for little Ollie was just too beautiful to resist. Bit by bit the invading thoughts broke through his resistances until his mind was rife with images of himself even younger and cuter than he was now, so small and helpless, so in need of protection and care and comfort and love. Oliver exhaled and gaped at the mirror as the ring brought his deepest desires to life, the light-headedness contributing to the growing feeling that this was all just a long lovely dream, a dream in which he was watching himself shrink into a shirt that he was already twenty years too young for. David, for his part, looked every bit as fascinated - this being his first witnessed transformation, his own awe and wonder was much like a child's as the boy in his arms grew smaller, chubbier, cuter, more and more innocent with each passing second. David made sure to cuddle Oliver close the whole while, pulling his arms closer and closer around the child as he was drawn deeper and deeper into the man's lap,
Then it was over. For a moment both boy and man simply sat and silence for a moment, neither quite believing what had just happened. Then, as though snapped out of a daze, David noticed the glove still clinging tenaciously to Oliver's tiny hand. He smiled and plucked it off, revealing a quintet of stubby little sausage fingers.
"It's a bit warm for mittens, I think," David chuckled. "Let's take a look at little baby Ollie, shall we?"
Oliver squeaked as David, without waiting for a response, took the toddler by the underarms and whisked him out of his shirt and undies, the boy suddenly too immature even for tiny Sesame Street briefs. He felt as though the entirety of his little body was blushing, a sensation that only grew stronger when David held his tiny, naked self up in front of the mirror for inspection. His memory of when exactly the Canadian vacation had occurred was failing him - so he had nothing but his own guesswork to rely on, which put him anywhere from eighteen months to two years old. All the features of his four-year-old form that had been so childishly endearing had only grown more adorable and infantile. His baby fat had gone from trace recollections to a full-on resurgence, thighs and tummy and cheeks all rendered soft and round and plump and pudgy. His hair, already soft and light, had become a crown of dark golden curls that sat upon a head whose face was now free of freckles but whose eyes had become the most shining shade of emerald he had ever seen, perfect for charming adults into getting him sweets and toys. Still, it wasn't until those eyes drifted downward that the embarrassment became too much to bear, not until he caught sight of the tiny weenie that so innocently dangled between his wobbly thighs. It's not as though it was that much smaller than it had been before, but having it hanging out there in the open like that made him feel so small, so silly, so much like a...like a baby!
"Daddy," he whimpered, tears coming to his eyes, the word just leaking out of him. "Daddy!"
"Shh, shh, I've got you buddy, I've got you..." David brought Oliver to his chest as soon as he saw the boy's distress, cooing to the upset toddler and softly stroking his golden curls. "It's okay, sweetie, everything's okay. Daddy's here. Daddy's got you."
And just like that, everything was okay. Oliver blinked back his tears as he murmured in contentment and nestled himself deeper into his daddy's embrace, melting David's heart in the process and letting him know for sure that he had done the right thing. The man had no intention of keeping Oliver like this forever, but at the same time he felt it best if his boyfriend, while he was like this, could allow himself to fully accept the love and care deserving of a baby as sweet and cute as he was. David kissed Oliver's crown and brought him over to the bench, the toddler whimpering and frowning when he was taken away from his daddy's chest and laid on the unforgiving wood.
"I'm sorry, sweetie, you'll only be there for a minute," David reassured him as he grabbed some supplies. "Here - maybe this'll help."
David put a pacifier to Oliver's lips before he could respond, lips which, to the surprise of both man and boy, immediately latched onto and started sucking at the bit of molded periwinkle plastic. Oliver blushed and frowned around the dummy, but after a few seconds any embarrassment he felt about the infantile act was washed away by how much better it was making him feel. And when David put Oliver's new teddy bear in the boy's arms, any lingering discomfort caused by the stiff cool wood or the fact that his daddy wasn't holding him was gone in an instant, overwhelmed by how nice the boy felt sucking on his pacifier as he cuddled his teddy. So caught up was he in loving the stuffed animal that Oliver was only barely aware of David pulling out a diaper and the bottle of baby powder.
"There's a good boy," David beamed, heart bursting at the sight of his boyfriend so blissfully innocent. "Let's get baby Ollie into something a little more comfortable, hm?"
Oliver looked on with unabashed awe at the ease with which David took up the his ankles and lifted them in the air, raising his bottom so he could slide a thick, soft, cushy diaper beneath. The boy murmured happily as he wiggled his tushie against the pillow-like interior of the infantile undergarment, murmurs that took on a slightly different tone when David puffed out a generous dose of baby powder and started rubbing it into Oliver's silk-smooth skin. His pacifier bobbed between his lips with greater intensity and the color returned to his cheeks as David's warm, strong fingers massaged Oliver's most sensitive and private areas, the boy retaining enough of his adult consciousness to know that the sensations he was feeling were of the best and naughtiest kind. It might have also been those lingering adult thoughts that made his tiny dinky stand at attention, the boy squirming and burning from head to toe when David noticed and chuckled at the infantile erection.
"I think baby Ollie's a little too little for that, don't you?" The man made Oliver giggle by kissing the tip of his nose, doing away with most of his embarrassment as he brought up the front of the diaper and securely taped the toddler into it. Oliver cooed and smiled around his pacifier at the soft, warm hug the fluffy interior gave his bottom and pee-pee, at the way the thickness between his pudgy thighs made him feel littler than ever.
"Back in diapers," David beamed as he leaned down to plant a raspberry on Oliver's soft tummy, laughing right along with the tyke when he squealed and pinwheeled his legs in response. "Little baby Ollie's back in diapers."
With that done David tenderly helped the boy into tiny socks and sneakers, followed by a simple shirt that went beneath a pair of denim shortalls. When Oliver was pulled back into David's arms so he could see his adorable new outfit in the mirror, the boy didn't mind one bit how infantile he looked. If anything, he loved that the short hem of the shortalls let everyone see how chubby his little thighs were, loved that the thickness of his diaper was obvious even beneath the denim seat. He looked like a baby. And that's exactly what he was. Oliver was daddy's sweet little baby boy - and he'd never been happier in his whole life.
"Well then!" David grinned, looking every bit as happy as his young charge. "I think what we need to do now is..."