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Quentin Coldwater knew he wasn’t like other adults. Of course, twenty-three barely counted as an adult to begin with, but unfortunately, being a depressed little held him back in places it never held back others.
Going to the hospital last weekend was probably a bad idea. Littles already had a hard enough line to walk in the world. They could so easily be declared a dependent and unable to work or be on their own. That’s something, he supposed, that his father would fight tooth and nail to never let happen to him.
But at this point, he’s looking at four mental institution commitments, and he’d almost skirted that edge of not being able to leave the hospital at all when he’d decided he didn’t want to stay there anymore.
Getting into Yale would help. One more goal fulfilled, he didn’t need to sit in a mental hospital all day. He needed to work. To study with Julia. To fend off James’s well meaning attempts to hook him up with random caregivers that even looked like they might be interested in Lord of the Rings. That would keep him busy. He could do this with his meds and books and busy busy busy busy work that Julia insisted was more than even she had a stomach for.
Q didn’t know what to do when his interviewer had turned up dead. He was glad Julia was with him, because all of a sudden, he’d gone from relatively ready for an interview to the edge of littlespace and nervous about what was happening.
Julia gently let out a little cooing noise as he buried his head in her shoulder, making a sad noise as she quietly answered the questions of the paramedics above them.
As a little, thankfully, there was almost no way he could get blamed for a man’s death, accidental or not, but as a fragile mental health patient and little, he couldn’t help but feel anxiety and nerves twisting in his stomach, making him nervous and unsure of what’s really going on.
The red headed paramedic was looking at him with soft concern when he finally raised his head, and it took a moment to process that she’d just asked if he was okay. His lip trembled for half a second, and he felt Julia hold her breath and start digging around in his bag for something. Before he could consider if he wanted to cry or not -he has no idea why, it’s just a dead body that they just found here, not anything a fully sane adult couldn’t handle, people die all the time- Julia returned to him with a gentle coo and pressed something between his lips. While he took a much needed moment to compose himself, sucking on his soother, she clipped one end of the nylon strap to his shirt collar for him.
He sucked for a moment while the woman watched him, looking ready to step in if his panic went up to unmanageable levels. Q was oddly used to that look, but it was strange to see it from a complete stranger with no knowledge of his medical history.
He was finally able to breathe out enough to calm down, no longer feeling like he was teetering on the edge. He doesn’t know what it was about soothers, but Julia always insisted he was just too little not to be calmed down by them. James insisted he had an oral fetish, but Julia always hit him when he said that. Sometimes Q wondered if Julia didn’t think littles could be sexual at all. Some people thought that. He wasn’t sure about her, he’s never asked.
But reasons aside, the sucking helped, and he was relatively calm when he finally fiddled with the back of the soother, pulling it out for just long enough to say, “I’m fine. I’m just… little.”
He cringed at the excuse, even as he knew it was true. Littles got nervous about people getting hurt. They rarely fell along any sort of sadism spectrum, and most of them tended to get anxiety over others getting hurt.
To be completely honest, Quentin was already singing praises over his new meds, because just a week ago, he likely would have had a full blown crying fit over this whole situation. And this was just the first day. The doctors always said amino acids were some of the best first lines before SSRIs to stave off the anxiety and depression before the attacks even fully hit. He doesn’t know why he didn’t believe it till now.
The red headed woman gave him a gentle little coo, but kept a firmly polite distance between them all. She nodded at him, looking like she understood.
“That’s okay. I’m sorry you’ve had to see this. Just one more thing and then you and your mummy can go.” Neither of them corrected her on that. It was often easier to let people believe Julia was his mommy. They asked less questions. Sometimes it was easy to let them believe James was his daddy too, but James tended to get a little squirmy over it later. They’d known him less long. “I found this envelope on the table over there, it’s addressed to you, sweetheart. You are Quentin Coldwater, yes?”
Quentin nodded, and with nearly steady hands, took the large white envelope from her, mumbling a little ‘thank you’ behind his soother.
Leaving felt a little like a dream, leaning against Julia’s shoulder as they went, feeling the fog slowly start to settle and cloud him as they went. It wasn’t until a block away that he finally felt her gently put an arm around him, squeezing his neck in a way that made him give s little moan at the touch, leaning further into her. “Are you going to look at what’s in that envelope, sweetie?”
Quentin took a moment to fully appreciate the pressure of the right hand around his neck. It was sliding him a bit away from littlespace, further towards subspace. They both knew there was likely no way of getting him fully out of it right now, but the closer he came to subspace, especially with a domme he trusted to care for him, even in public, the more stable he would be.
They slowed down, and he started to pull the file back out of his bag, opening it with a frown.
“It’s… oh…”
Julia looked over the documents with him, a wide eyed look on her face as she took them in.
Quentin’s obsession with the children’s and littles series, Fillory and Further, was well known among their friends. Julia had been obsessed with the books when they were kids too, but she and James couldn’t even count the number of times they’d been asked to read them to him before bedtime. The times they’d found him pouring over the novels with stars in his eyes and too much imagination in his mind.
“Book six…” Julia trailed off, feeling a little in awe herself as they continued a slow walk together.
Quentin could feel a flutter in his chest, and he was spiraling right back into littlespace, but too excited to care this time. He gave a firm suck on his soother, breathing through his nose with excited movements. “Jules, people always suspected there could be a sixth book, do you think this could be it?”
Julia smiled at Q’s babyish noise of excitement at his own words, reaching up to stroke his hair this time instead of holding his neck, and the blinding smile he gave her made her want to sit him down in a cuddle nest to coddle him with stories and blankies. She wasn’t a caregiver, but he was the oldest friend she’d ever had, and the urge to curl up into him and give him soft affection, was almost impossible to ignore sometimes.
“I don’t know, kiddo, maybe it’s possible. Though, I must admit, I’m a little confused on why you’re the one they would give it to.”
Quentin cocked his head to the side, considering it. “Maybe my interviewer had read some of my papers? Maybe he doesn’t even know if this is the book or not, and he wanted my consideration for if it might be?”
Q wasn’t entirely wrong, there had been more than a few papers written on the subject, and if the professor had a vested interest in them as well, it was entirely possible he might have been asked in for a second opinion.
They kept walking until the wind blew away one of the papers, shocking both of them as Quentin stuffed the rest back in the file, the two of the following it down the alleyway.
Which is how they somehow ended up stumbling through a set of trees and into a garden on the edge of a field of well kept grass, looking around in awe at an entirely new, bright world.
“This is…”
“...different. Yeah.” Julia looked around as well, and had to stop when she realized Quentin was standing there in shock, blinking.
“Are we hallucinating?”
Julia watched him for a moment, before giving a little shrug. “Ummm, I don’t think so?”
Quentin nodded. “Okay. Because. I started taking a new medication today, and an hour ago I thought it was great, but now I’m not so sure anymore.” The words were slurred behind his soother, but Julia was an old hand at deciphering them. Q had never given up his soother as a kid, an early sign of later designation in life.
Julia put a gentle hand in the crook of Quentin’s elbow, gently pulling him along. “It’s okay, kiddo, if you’re hallucinating, then so am I. We’re doing it together. It’ll be fun.”
Q nodded sagely. “Like dropping acid. But. Amino acids. In my case.”
Julia hummed in consideration as she pulled him along behind her. “Oh? You let the doctors put you on something without a prescription?”
Quentin nodded, looking at absolutely everything as they slowly passed. “Yeah. She said she thought I could try some natural stuff for once. I didn’t see an issue with it. Antidepressants make my brain turn to fog sometimes.”
They really did. Some days when he wasn’t still depressed through the pills, he’d sit there in a confused and lost fog, unable to get away from the thoughts enough to concentrate on his work. It’ll keep him away from adderall, at any rate.
They ended up at the top of the courtyard, looking at a man smoking on a ledge above them. He looked at a card he was holding before looking at the two of them, fairly unimpressed. Quentin sucked s little harder on his soother, wondering if he did something wrong. Were they not supposed to be here?
“Quentin Coldwater and Julia Wicker?”
The two of them nodded. Julia looked like she was about to say something, before the man jumped down from the ledge, making it obviously clear that he towered over the both of them, and nodded, turning away again. “I’m Eliot. You’re both late.”
Julia and Quentin looked at each other in puzzlement, wondering what they could possibly be late for.
Eliot grabbed both their hands and started tugging them towards a building. Julia looked at the hand with a light sneer of a man getting too friendly with her, gently pulling her hand out of his, but Quentin just watched their tangled fingers with that dumb puppy look he got when he was trying to figure something out while little. Quentin had always been the touchy one of the two of them. Julia considered pulling his hand out of Eliot’s for him, if only to protect his innocence from a stranger, but gave a little sigh when she watched Q just squeeze their hands together a little.
Of course, the baby wanted nice touches from a stranger. If he wasn’t so depressed all the time, Q would cuddle up to perfect strangers without a single fuss. It was just in his nature.
Eliot looked back at him when the little squeezed his hand, an eyebrow raised as the little one send him a sunshine bright smile around a pacifier that made his heart melt on the spot.
Oh no. These dumb baby first years were going to be the death of him.
***
The test was easy. Some of the other students had looked pissed at it, complaining about how it made no sense, but Julia and Quentin had passed.
And now they were being put in a room for the night and they’d figure out where they were going to go tomorrow.
Quentin was too keyed up to sleep, and Julia didn’t look much better, pacing by the window with a pensive look on her face. Quentin was wearing the pajamas the school had provided for the night, seeing as they hadn’t had a chance to go home and pack yet, and he was snuggly in a set of soft footie pajamas with a soother between his lips, watching her with big eyes.
“Jules?”
Julia looked over to him, face softening as she watched him over like some sort of besotted mommy. She was the furthest thing from a caregiver that a little like Q deserved, but they were each other’s oldest friends, and often, familiar contact overrode classification as easy as breathing.
A sadist isn’t going to hurt their own blood born baby unless they’re abusive, and the same wouldn’t keep a caregiver from abusing their own child if they were. Family is different than classification.
Just because Julia was a sadist spectrum top, didn’t mean she wouldn’t cuddle up with her favorite baby little if given half a chance. He was like her baby brother.
She crawled into the bed with him, wrapping around him with a little coo. “What do you need, tiny boy who should be asleep after a long day?”
Quentin couldn’t hold back a little giggle when he squirmed in place, making himself comfortable against her. “Story, please, Jules?”
Julia pressed a smacking kiss to Quentin’s forehead, making him twitch happily against her, way too little to really think about big stuff like icky bedtimes or even being in a magic school. He was tiny. He wanted a story.
She reached over him and pulled open the flap of Quentin’s book bag, pausing when instead of meeting Quentin’s first edition Fillory and Further book one novel, she found the bright white manuscripts they’d been given by the paramedic. She traced over the files with a gentle touch for a moment, looking back down at the little with his fingers playing with her shirt buttons. He had nimble little fingers, more often used for divesting himself of clothes than they were used on her, but occasionally, in his littlest headspace, he would get grabby for skin contact in their snuggles, and she liked letting him.
She’s probably lucky that Quentin didn’t like breastfeeding, or they would have a lot more awkward moments than just a few butterfly kisses pressed into her collarbone with a sleeping baby against her chest.
Littles needed skin contact just like regular babies. It helped them stay content.
He didn’t try to open her pajama top now, just playing with the buttons while he laid against her shoulder, waiting for his politely asked for story. He was such a good little boy. Some days Julia regretted not being a caregiver. He was going to make a caregiver so happy one day.
“What do you say, little boy, do you wanna crack open the infamous sixth book for Fillory and Further?”
Quentin perked up a little, still half asleep, but an eager spark in his eyes. He wasn’t much for fanfiction, though he did have a few favorites, but he loved the idea of a sixth FnF book, he always had, and the idea of hearing it for the first time as a bedtime story? That was enchanting to a little. He gave a sleepy nod into her neck. They wouldn’t get very far, but he hoped it was a good story, even if it didn’t turn out to be the real deal.
Something nice to send you off into dreams. Something nice to end a big day full of new schools and too much information for a little to fully comprehend without some downtime.
Julia pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, opening up the manuscript with a gently cleared throat, and reading until she felt a limp baby against her chest.
***
The dean was a nice guy, Quentin liked him, but Julia seemed to adore him from the first moment, hanging on his every word like the proper student she was. Quentin got distracted too easily, big eyes looking around at anything and everything, and when he got back to his and Julia’s shared room, he found himself staring at the same man from yesterday, Eliot, who was excitedly chattering about being his welcoming committee and introducing him to the proper world of magic, as well as a woman who looked like she could destroy the world with a smile on her face. Quentin instantly liked her.
Mostly, little instinct meant he wanted to curl up on her for a cuddle. She probably would never give him one, but somehow that was part of the appeal. Maybe if he was extra cute she would rub his head and give him little kisses on his cheeks…
He followed them with Julia and a look of enchanted wonder on his face as they looked around, listening to Eliot and Margo explain all about the various houses to live in, while dragging them off to the cottage they insisted was the best place in Brakebills.
“Who are they?”
There were some dead eyed students walking between them, when suddenly Eliot went all hush-hush, explaining that sixteen students had disappeared three years ago, and they were all that was left of their class.
It was. A little nerve wrecking. A little floaty. That part might be his new pills.
The cottage was loud. Full of kids getting back from break and starting a party, and way too much booze. Eliot, for his part, performed an exceptional insight of little etiquette by asking before he handed him any sort of liquor.
But he also performed the age old faux pass of asking Julia, if he was allowed to drink. It was considered inappropriate to ask questions about a little to anyone but their caregiver unless given permission first. But they were far too used to being mistaken as little and caregiver to correct him.
Well no, Julia gave him that look, the one that said she would take care of it, knowing that he didn’t do all that great with confrontation, but the school was small, and they were unlikely not to interact with him again, he really ought to know.
Three days later and the two of them were being assigned semi-permanent rooms in the cottage.
“It’s just until you two get assigned a tract. Normally, they stick all the spill over kids in the West dorms, but for once the darn place is already full, so we get to babysit the new kids, I guess.” Eliot gave a little shrug, looking less than upset at the idea, grinning at the two of them as he lead Quentin and Julia up the stairs.
Contrary to popular belief, neither of them have ever actually been in a place resembling a frat house, so the cottage was considered fairly strange to think about living in, but Eliot had confided that he knew the most amazing muffling charms, and no one would dare invade another person’s room. Mainly because they all tended to have their rooms booby trapped.
The room they lead them to first turned out to be Quentin’s room, with his luggage already brought in. Quentin looked at the room with honest bafflement.
“Something wrong, little Q?”
Quentin turned back to Eliot while Julia looked in the room behind him, and instantly spotted the issue.
“Well, I figured our temporary dorms for the past few days was one thing, but… that’s a bed? ”
Eliot looked at him like he was having trouble figuring something out, before it suddenly clicked. “Oh, oh because it’s a bed . You’ve never been in a pre-furnished room without being assumed you’ll want a crib, right?”
Quentin actually blushed a little, looking away from Eliot. “Well, it’s not exactly that they always assume, it’s sort of that… I request? It’s not like I'm like, baby baby aged, but I tend to wriggle in my sleep-“
“It’s true, the other day he woke up on the floor. Neither of us are sure how he got there without waking either of us.”
Eliot nodded sagely, tapping a finger to his chin before entering the room and going over to the bed. With relatively few movements and some words they didn’t understand, the bed was suddenly transforming, until it looked like a nicely made wooden crib painted white. A few more spells and the blankets were softer, pastel green instead of the harsh army colours they had been when they all came in, and the pillows seemed to have multiplied, a few of them even turning into stuffed animals.
In all honesty, it was a baby boy’s dream crib for nesting. Quentin loved nesting. He was a pro at not leaving his bed until someone dragged him out. He could see many cuddle and movie marathons with Julia, in here. He couldn’t help the excited little bounce he ended up making. Even Julia looked beyond impressed.
Eliot, the show off, just grinned at them with a little bow. “Thank you, I do try my best. I can teach you some nursery spells later if you want to change things up a bit. People tend to put their own flare on their decorations, but I’m a bit brilliant when it comes to the cute and snuggly.”
Quentin wanted to explore everything ever in the cottage, but he wanted to see where Julia was going to be staying too, so he followed the two of them down the hallway. Quentin made excited little noises when it hit them that they were going to be living near enough to have sleepovers.
Yeah, he got to sleep in the same room as her for the past few days, but overall the two of them liked having their own spaces, but this way they can have cuddle sessions in their jammies and it was going to be the bestest best ever!
“You two are lucky, the rest of your year mates are going to be stuck in those dorms until they have a chosen discipline.”
Julia and Quentin exchanged a cautious look between them. “Wait, what? Why?”
Eliot paused, turning to stare at the two of them. “Dean Fogg didn’t explain?”
The two of them shook their heads, looking confused and curious. Quentin spit out the bulb of his soother, giving him a little frown. “Dean Fogg said that we couldn’t be moved into the west dorm, because it’s all full up right now, but he thinks that one of us might end up a physical kid, so he said we’d get to move in here early, and we only have to change if it turns out we’re not later.”
Eliot gave him a funny look. “You didn’t think to ask why you’re the only ones being moved out right now?”
Julia shook her head. “We thought everyone was being moved out now.”
Eliot replied in same. “No no, it’s just… it’s policy not to keep littles and their caregivers in the dorms if we can manage it. The west dorms are all immediately ready for littles to move into, it’s a much less stress inducing environment for them. Pets too, but pets usually prefer human beds outside of headspace anyways. It’s just luck that the two of you get to move out ASAP so you can have better accommodations.”
“...then why am I moving out too?” Julia gave Eliot a funny look, like something wasn’t clicking.
Eliot’s eyes went wide. “You aren’t his caregiver?”
Quentin, who seemed to have caught on two sentences earlier than Julia for once, just giggled. “Jules, if you pretend to be my mommy, they’ll let you stay. They might throw you back in the dorms if you say you’re not.” Julia glared at him for half a second before shoving the bulb of his soother back in his mouth. Eliot considered being shocked about it, but Quentin just giggled around the bulb, looking far too amused with everything.
Julia gave a little sigh, letting her head drop into her hands for a moment as she considered it. “How long does it take to figure out a discipline?”
Eliot shrugged. “A couple of months.”
Julia groaned. “Go back to the dormitories for a couple of months, or pretend to be a caregiver for a few months. Either of those sound like torture.”
Eliot’s eyes went wide, and he couldn’t help but feel a little horrified. He knew that a lot of people didn’t tend to act their designation at all times, he was living proof of that, but Julia was a kind and loving woman who cared for Quentin so much that everyone assumed she was a mommy.
He couldn’t imagine that she found the idea of being a caregiver so distasteful that pretending to be one was torture.
“What’s wrong with being a caregiver?” He sounded blazé, but he was inwardly horrified.
Julia shrugged. “From a caregivers standpoint? Nothing. But I’m not a caregiver. I’m a soft sadist bondage junkie. If I ever fell into headspace around Q, I wouldn’t hurt him, but all that care I have for him wouldn’t feel the same. I wouldn’t be able to coddle him or be what he needs of me, and if the school thinks we’re mommy and little they’ll expect him to show healthy signs of a little being taken down into regular headspace.”
Eliot considered that for a moment. She wasn’t wrong. Trying to scene with a sub without falling into your own domspace was nearly impossible, which is why compatibility was so important when it came to finding a good match. A little and a sadist just didn’t work well together.
Of course, that didn’t mean that it was impossible. There were some little spectrum kids who liked the pain as much as a regular pain slut could. And there were some sadists had a love of aftercare on a level that bordered on ageplay levels of coddling.
It all depended on compatibility, and obviously, Q and Julia already knew what they could be compatible with, and what they couldn’t.
It wasn’t like she was going to get kicked out of the school if she told the administrators they made a mistake, and they might not even make her move back into the dorms if it looked like making her would be more trouble than it was worth, but Quentin wanted her close by, and it didn’t change the fact that the school would put him in those damn mandatory classes to stimulate little headspace in single littles to keep them healthy.
Rarely, did any of the littles enrolled in those classes actually like them.
Eliot nodded, deciding on an answer with a little shrug. “Pretend to be a caregiver for a few months, Quentin can go into headspace with an actual caregiver.”
Julia rolled her eyes a little, giving an almost amused little grin. “It’s okay, I can go back to the dorms for a while. Bringing another person into this would be too complicated for the simple fact of staying out of the dorms.”
Eliot cringed a little, before giving a little sigh. “I… sort of meant… me.”
The hallway was dead silent for a long moment, before Julia and Quentin shared a long look. They turned back to him. “What do you mean, you?”
Eliot actually rolled his eyes this time. “Well, I’m a caregiver. An actual caregiver, not just mistaken for one, I guess.”
Julia frowned. “You don’t act like a caregiver.”
Eliot looked honestly offended . “You don’t act like a sadist , obviously not every designation has to act like they’re in a scene twenty-four seven.”
Julia shrugged. “Well, okay. I might have exaggerated. I could be a caregiver, but not to Q.”
Q nodded sagely, like those were wise words, taking out his soother again, but this time looking more adult and serious. It made him look like an eager little puppy and Eliot wanted to keep him. “Is true. She only cuddles outside of headspace. We tried dating for two whole weeks in high school when I first started discovering littlespace, and she ended up neglecting me because I’m too little and a counselor had to step in and request that she never try to take care of me when I’m little again.”
Eliot look a deep breath, considering that for a long moment. “You could be a caregiver, but not to… a baby?”
He didn’t actually know Quentin’s littlespace age, but he’s starting to get an idea.
They both nodded at him, and he took another breath. “So, what you’re saying, is that this incident was recorded by a counselor who suggested you two trying to be in a relationship together would be abusive because Julia won’t let you cling to her, and so you’re sure you’re not a caregiver?”
Julia nodded. “Of course. I ended up neglecting him and if we’d both been more settled in our headspaces, that sort of thing could have developed actual trauma.”
Eliot steepled his fingers together, wondering if these two shared a single brain cell. “You know, that means. That you’re still going to be listed on actual records. As caregiver spectrum who shouldn’t be allowed to play with babies?”
The two of them were silent for a long minute, considering that. Julia opened and closed her mouth a few times, before letting out a breathless little noise. “Oh my god that makes so much sense now, professors keep grouping me in with caregivers, now this, I’m half sure employers can see that stuff too.”
Eliot nodded. “Exactly, you don’t have to lie at all about being Quentin’s caregiver. It’s the school’s fault for considering counselor records above their own students preferences.”
He left them to settle themselves in after showing Julia her new room, leaving Quentin with that bouncy feeling full of ideas of sleepovers and cuddles again.
But other ideas too. “Do you think Eliot meant it?”
Julia shrugged. “Lots of teens test their designation type before they settle on something. Chances of me ending up with a little are slim to none anyways, why worry about it?”
Quentin giggled, burrowing into her soft comforter with a tired sigh. Everything feels like it’s floating lately. He knows that’s not normal, but magic has always been his serotonin happy button, plus the pills. He was going to have to make sure he didn’t go overboard, but he’s sure the sads would come back eventually. Not right now, though.
“Jules, that’s not what I meant.”
Julia looked at him curiously. “Oh? What did you mean, Q?”
Quentin looked up at her, a little nervously. He’s sure Eliot must have meant nothing by it, just wanting to prove to Julia you didn’t have to act any certain way to be a caregiver or not. “Um… that he would be willing to scene with me?”
As soon as he said it a pit of anxiety started to roll in his stomach. People didn’t like being in scenes with Quentin. He used to go to a playgroup at their old college just for the express purpose of not needing to be in a scene with anyone. Quentin was too little for most caregivers to handle, too clingy for most people to carry, too anxiety and depression ridden and not exactly fun to play with.
It didn’t help when he added his sexuality into it at all. Some caregivers were immediately repulsed when they found out he’s not asexual, thinking that littles ought not to be involved in that sort of thing. But the ones that did get excited over him being sexual… Quentin has learned to have Julia or James in the next room while he scened with those ones for the first time, after one of them made the terrible idea that it meant he wanted to be fucked during a scene.
His headspace was quite non-sexual, thank you very much.
James had been another Dom that Julia dated, and he was a lot nicer than most people in his social class, but Quentin had seen him punch the guy when Q had ended up in a panic attack after the incident had occurred in the first place. Julia and James insisted he spend time with new doms under a sort of supervision so they could step in if one of his limits was pressed and not respected again.
It made him feel nice and coddled in his littlespace. It made him feel like a little bit of a failure when he was an adult.
Julia studied him with nice eyes that he loved so much, taking in the way he’d curled in on himself at the moment, nervous to think about what she might say.
“He’s a nice guy. Bit of a lush, I heard a few kids saying, but he’s been nice to you so far, yeah? He was the one that showed you around campus?”
Quentin nodded, feeling a fleeting spark of hope. “He, he let me ramble on about Fillory and Further for like, an hour, at one point. When I realized I’d been doing it he smiled at me and said he loved nerds who liked to talk. Jules, no one’s ever said they liked it when I rambled before. I don’t know if he really meant it, I hope he did, but he looked like he thought it was great or something.”
Julia couldn’t keep the grin off her face, leaning in to gently rub the tip of her nose against Q’s. Q squeaked, but leaned in to return the little rub with a happy sigh. She pulled back before flopping down on the soft bed with him, reaching over to tangle their fingers together and bring his hand up for a little kiss. “I think there’s no point in not trying to be his friend if he already likes you. I think, even if being in a scene doesn’t end up happening, you have a real chance at an amazing friend.”
Quentin turned over a little so he could curl up against her side, feeling little and cubbish at the moment. “Friends are the best. I could use more friends.”
Julia pressed a kiss to his forehead as they smashed into each other. “So many friends.”
***
Three days later, Lipson came into the cottage, dragging an angry looking blonde first year behind her, the both of them looking supremely pissed off.
Quentin was sitting on the rug in the main living room, in front of a couch with Eliot and Margo lounging behind him, and Julia across the room immersed in a textbook that looked far more advanced than anything the first years were actually studying. He had a sippy cup at his side while he did his own homework, working through the tuts of a multitude of general spells that were supposed to be the groundwork for major spellcasting later on.
Eliot had handed him the sippy cup with a sing-songed ‘it’s little baby fun juice time’ before going back to sitting on the couch with Margo and talking about a party they wanted to throw later in the week.
Upon sipping at the ‘fun juice’ he’s fairly sure the main ingredient in it was hard cider. Very hard cider.
Well, fun juice was one way to put it.
It was actually rather good. Not too alcoholic like most of the drinks Eliot had given him so far, but relaxing enough that he muster the anxiety to mess up any of his tuts so far.
Julia had, of course, already mastered everything they’ve taught so far, and was doing independent research on who knows what.
Quentin was fairly far down in littlespace, and was briefly glad he’s been wearing pull ups for the past week since getting here, not wanting any incidents in case something happens, but when Lipson came dragging in another first year girl, both of them looking like they’d been having a heated argument, Quentin had startled, backing up into the edge of the couch with a flinch, not calming down from the curl he’d pulled himself into, until he felt a hand running through his hair with a soothing hum.
He looked up to see Eliot, giving him gentle smiles and making him feel better with soft touches.
Quentin calmed down, uncurling again so he could go back to mostly relaxed, picking up his sippy cup to flop onto the rug with, watching Lipson and the girl -Alice, he thinks?- get into what looked like another argument on the other side of the room.
“I don’t need to be here, I’m not some stupid infant who can’t handle a roommate-“
“You tested on the little spectrum, your parents are concerned with you not getting proper care here-“
The girl let out a hissing noise like an angry cat, and a book fell off a shelf behind her. “My mother is a hypersexual manipulative witch who can’t stand the idea of not controlling my every move for more than ten minutes-“
“You’re mother is a concerned parent who’s also an alumni-“
“Oh so now you’re saying she’s getting special treatment to continue to rule my every movement just because she graduated here-“
“Your brother has admitted concern to make sure we give you attention you need, without your mother's influence.”
The room was dead silent for nearly a minute, before the hissing girl suddenly stopped glaring at Lipson, straightening up so she could pull on the edge of her dress. “I’m not a little. I don’t care what those damn tests say, I’m half convinced I only tested as a little because my mother found some way to influence the outcome in a bid to keep me under her thumb for longer.”
Lipson gave a sad little shake to her head. “I’m sorry, Alice, but you tested on the little spectrum in the tests I gave too, you have the possibility of a little headspace, and that means our own school policy means you shouldn’t be in the dorms. You need your own space, and the Physical Cottage has already agreed to foster any littles and caregivers until you can be sorted with the rest of your year.”
Alice looked a little like she might cry, but before she could get angry again, Julia was suddenly there, stepping up to the edge of their conversation. “You know what, Lipson, I can show her to her room. There’s an empty one a few doors down from me, I think she’ll like it.”
Lipson looked between Julia and Alice for a moment, before giving a little sigh and handing Alice a key ring with what looked like some miniature suitcases hanging off of it. “I assume you know the tuts to restore their size.”
Alice nodded primly without looking at the woman, and followed Julia up the stairs.
Lipson stayed in the room for just a moment longer, looking over to Eliot and Quentin, since they were the only little and caregiver in the room right now. “She tested little spectrum, but it doesn’t present over her preferred headspace, so she assumed she could get away with staying in the dorms until sorting. Unfortunately, that’s not how we do things. She likely won’t want to join in on anything… little, you have going on, so I wouldn’t try it.”
She left without pause then, looking like she wanted to wash her hands of the whole situation.
Quentin looked up at Eliot without getting up from his flopped sprawl on the floor, though he did relax enough that most of his body went boneless now that no one was fighting. Eliot slid off the couch so he could settle down next to him on the floor. Margo was already buried in a magazine, like she couldn’t be bothered with any of it. She was surprisingly non-gossipy, for someone of her… personality. She just couldn’t be bothered with other people’s baggage, emotional or otherwise. Quentin liked that about her. The only bullshit you really need to worry about should be your own.
Eliot coaxed him up off the floor, pulling him in to lean against his chest. “Did the mean loud ladies scare you?”
Quentin couldn’t hold back the little snort he gave. Eliot was surprisingly touchy. Margo was too, but in different ways. She liked touching his butt or petting his hair, or even massaging him if she got a hold of him while he was sitting still for long enough. Though, watching her with Julia, and a select few others in the cottage, she seemed to just, be like that.
Eliot liked petting him while doing that terrible baby talk that made Quentin flush and bury himself in his chest. Eliot hasn’t tried to get much more familiar than a forehead kiss or two, but Quentin still can’t really tell if he’s trying to be Quentin’s caregiver, or he’s just like this with everyone.
He gives Margo forehead kisses too, but the one time he saw Eliot pet her hair, she’d growled at him until he backed off before fixing it for her.
He’s probably just being friendly. Most likely.
Actually, Quentin’s only really ever had two friends, and one of them wasn’t enough that he was upset to lose him, so, Quentin’s frame of reference probably wasn’t all that accurate, but him and Julia cuddled like this sometimes.
Quentin let out a little sigh, suddenly realizing he was still sucking on the nib of his sippy cup, though the juice had long since stopped coming out. He tilted it up a little more, coming back against Eliot’s chest to look at his chin while cider started coming out again, and earned himself another forehead kiss for it.
He closed his eyes in pleasure, feeling utterly contented in his place in life right now.
***
Eliot was coming back from a class when he found Julia in the courtyard, cooing at a tree.
Well, this is new. Well actually, it sort of wasn’t new. The natural kids tended to coo at plants, but he’s fairly sure Julia was going to end up one of the knowledge kids. As in, the least likely kids to coo at trees or get involved in day-drugs.
He sighed, making his way over to her to figure out if she’s lost it, or if the tree was somehow important now.
“Q, sweet Q, you need to come down from there, you can’t stay in the tree for the rest of your life.”
Eliot stopped next to her, looking up into the y’all branches to see that, yes, little Q was perched on a branch, legs curled up against his chest while he teetered on his tip toes. Eliot had to actively calm himself down when he realized Q wasn’t holding onto a thing at all, and he didn’t look all that stable.
He turned to Julia with panicked eyes. “This doesn’t concern you?”
Julia frowned. “I’m terrified of heights. It concerns me more than I can put into words. But I can’t go get him, if I climb up there we’ll have two unstable idiots in a tree.”
Eliot swallowed, giving an annoyed little sigh, before lifting his hands up to do a few tuts. “Okay, weightless spells. I’ll climb up to get him and bring him down. Why’s he up there anyways?”
Julia shrugged. “I guess it’s a bad head day. They happen. He tends to retreat to places he can hide, and he must have found the tree before he could find a dark corner.”
Eliot sighed, pulling off his tie and vest, shoving them in Julia’s arms before she could complain, before considering the easiest way to get to Q without spooking him into slipping. The weightless charms would keep him from shaking the tree as he moved up, but if Q didn’t want to come down, he might slip.
He ends up talking to Q as he goes up, making the little -he was so deep in headspace right now, Eliot wasn’t even fully sure if he understood the consequences of what a precarious perch he was in right now- give him funny looks as he climbed up towards him. Eliot ended up across from him on another branch, and before Q could argue it, performed a weightless charm on him as well.
The branch Q was on stopped it’s light wobble, and suddenly Eliot could breathe again.
“Come here, little Q, I’ll bring you back down.” He held his arms out for the little to climb into, but Quentin just gave him a nervous look, tear tracks on his face and sucking hard on his soother.
“‘oo big.”
Eliot took a second to figure out what that meant before giving a little smile and a shake of his head. “No, no baby boy, you’re not too big. We’re magicians, remember? I put a weightless charm on you. And, well, even without it, I’m quite a bit bigger than you, I could probably carry you fairly easy.”
Quentin’s lower lip trembled a little, and before Eliot could ask what was wrong, he was climbing across to Eliot, arms going tight around his neck and legs around his waist.
Eliot almost wished he didn’t have to use a weightless charm. He wanted to feel Quentin, warm and heavy against him. He was warm though, his soft puffs of wet air against Eliot’s neck where he’d pushed his head into, the way he clung to Eliot with strength that gave a pressure, if a shocking lack of weight.
“It’s… it’s so big and scary, everything in my head, El, please.” The sad voice trailed off with a whimper, and Eliot couldn’t help but pull him closer, giving the little just as much pressure as Q was giving him. Quentin started to settle in his arms, tense body relaxing against him until he was loose against Eliot’s chest, and Eliot relaxed with him, pressing a few kisses to Quentin’s hair, running his hands along his back.
“It’s okay, we can go back to the cottage and find a nice quiet place to hide in. Just you and me and Julia, lots of snuggles and no one can hurt you. We won’t let anyone hurt you.”
Quentin pulled back a little, biting at the bulb of his soother until Eliot could hear a rubbery squeaking noise. Eliot reached up to press a thumb to his lower lip, making Quentin let go of the bulb. It fell out of his mouth, before being caught on the strap attached to his shirt. Quentin took in a few nervous breaths. “Um, love, uh, love Julia, but, she was supposed to study with Alice today. Can we snuggle in my room with a movie? Just us?”
Eliot could feel his face heating up. To a caregiver and a little, that was basically a date. Or a scene, depending on how it evolved. He gave a wordless little nod, leaning in to press a kiss to Quentin’s cheek before holding the soother back up for him to take.
“Okay, we can do that. Hold on to me really tight, okay, little Q?”
Q nodded, arms going tight around his neck as Eliot started the slow climb down with him.
They would just have to figure out how things evolved themselves.