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Generation Loss was an amazing project to be a part of, but like all good things, it too was coming to an end.
That’s also what he expected to happen to the whole “Schlatt caring for him over call when he’s little” thing, but he was pleasantly proven wrong. Almost every night after the first time, Schlatt called him. Sometimes they just chatted, but usually (literally almost every night) Charlie ended up fuzzy and floaty and snuggled up in bed while the other screen-shared a movie for them to watch. He continued to care, and continued to love, and continued to prove that not all good things go.
And yet Charlie couldn’t help but worry that care would finally leave now that most of the stress forcing him to regress so regularly was ending.
He tried not to think about it, busying himself with setting up more future streams now that the Genloss finale was just days away and indulging himself more when Schlatt called and wasted his precious time on Charlie, but it was a settled rock in his stomach. Constantly present, whispering that this will all end soon. He could only hope, vainly, that regressing more often now would help him not do it as much later.
And then his world gets flipped upside down.
“Sorry, you’re coming when?” Charlie spluttered, caught completely off guard.
Schlatt chuckled softly from the other end of the call. They’ve been sitting here for a few hours, Charlie at his desk and looking for new games to play on stream and Schlatt thousands of miles away, lounging on his bed. “Tomorrow, for the finale. I told you last week, remember?”
Charlie shrugged, leaning back in his chair and fiddling with the small knots on the ends of his hoodie strings. He could vaguely recall talk of AirBnBs and plane tickets, but he’d been too preoccupied with important business to really pay attention.
That business being coloring a Paw Patrol coloring page he’d found online, of course.
“I barely remember going to bed most of last week, man. Was kinda small every night, if you didn’t notice.” Charlie admitted, his voice quieter in the last sentence.
Surprisingly (well, unsurprisingly to anyone but Charlie), regressing nearly daily had helped him get much more comfortable in his headspace, but talking about it still made him self conscious. Still, he couldn’t help the bubbly excitement stirring up at the thought of getting to see his friend and caregiver in person again. It’s been months since the last time they got to meet up.
“True.” Schlatt acquiesced, “But yeah, I’m flying in tomorrow morning to catch the last of the finale, and I’m thinking I’ll stay for a week or two. Gives me a chance to hang out with you for a while.”
Charlie, who had been daydreaming all of the exciting (and admittedly little) activities they could do together, felt his face fall as he caught onto two words.
Hang out.
Hang out, not play or take care of or watch or anything that could imply some little time with just him and his caregiver.
And yeah okay, maybe he was overthinking this, and maybe the surprise and excitement of the news made him feel just a bit smaller and less rational, but these were real concerns in his mind, and they made sense!
Schlatt had only ever taken care of him over call, he’d never had to do any manual labor and he could always hang up if he got annoyed or fed up with Charlie (though he never did.) In person, he couldn’t do that. He’d have to actually do things, not just sit and entertain the brunet’s stupid baby brain for a while.
Charlie didn’t think he’d ever agree to that himself, so it made sense that Schlatt would hint at this just being a time spent between friends, not little and caregiver.
“Charlie?” Schlatt spoke up when the other man went quiet for a bit too long, lost in thought. “You okay?”
Charlie shook himself out of it, silently thankful that for once the call is just audio and not video so he can’t be seen. “Yeah, just fine. I think I’m gonna run over my lines again for tomorrow, make sure I’ve got them down.”
It was an excuse, obviously it was because Schlatt could remember a distinctly smaller Charlie babbling and bragging about how he was “soooooo smarts, learneds them in a week,” but he didn’t pry, summing it up to the man’s nerves. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow Charlie.”
Charlie nodded, a smile coming back to his face because yeah, he wouldn’t be able to regress while Schlatt was here, but Schlatt would still be here, and that’s more than enough.
It had to be.
He’d make it be enough.
“Yeah, see you then.” He hung up soon after and stood from his desk, moving to his bed and crawling under his covers. He fell into a restless sleep, ignoring the bags under his eyes come morning.
Charlie had just finished getting “mauled to death” by the TV creature when Schlatt showed up on set. The man strode in like the confident man he was, his gaze softening just slightly when he caught the moment Charlie spotted him.
Charlie, as quietly and non distracting as he could, scrambled away from the set and ran at the younger, grinning wide enough to feel like his face was going to split when he was quickly bundled up in strong, warm arms.
“You’re here.” He breathed, his voice quiet both because of the live show still going on and the sheer disbelief at the sight of Schlatt. Here.
“I’m here.” Schlatt confirms, squeezing the shorter just a little bit tighter, like he wasn’t already bear-hugging the shit out of Charlie. Charlie couldn’t care less though, not when Schlatt was here and everything was perfect for just a second. They had to pull away after a while, but Charlie couldn’t find himself feeling too disappointed when Schlatt quickly intertwined their hands as they walked closer to where the shoot was happening.
Well, they tried to. Kind of hard to walk closer to the action when Ranboo was actively running like a bat out of hell.
“Holy shit the kid’s fast.” Schlatt mumbled under his breath, his words accompanied by a small squeeze to Charlie’s hand that made his heart warm and glow a brilliant bright light. This man really had to stop being so casually affectionate or Charlie would actually cry.
“He’s all angles and spite, pretty sure that’s how he does it.” Charlie quipped, smiling when Schlatt had to hide a snort, and then hide another one when a nearby technician gave them a withering glare.
They did their best to stay quiet the rest of the shoot, or really Charlie did, because Schlatt was actually quite interested in watching since he’d never seen any of the plans or anything for the project. Charlie just let himself be dragged along to each new scene and idly noticed a few of the things Ranboo changed last minute.
Soon though, after the filming was over and the small after-celebration had fizzled out, they were in Charlie’s car and heading back to his place. Schlatt had gotten a text from the owner of the AirBnB during the celebration that he couldn’t, in fact, stay there because the previous guests had trashed the place and the owner only found out an hour before texting him.
Charlie had offered his guest room to avoid the man having to stay in a dingy hotel room for two weeks, and he’d somewhat hesitantly accepted, obviously not wanting to be a bother. Which was stupid, really. Sure, it’d be harder to avoid slipping with the man actively around him, but Charlie would be fine. He could handle this.
——————————————————
Whatever convinced him he could handle this was a big fat liar and should be punished for its crimes.
It had been barely four days, four days, and Charlie was already losing it.
Anxiety and overwhelmed irritation balled itself up in his stomach and settled a rock in his gut, itching at his bones and skin. With anxiety came nausea, and a lack of appetite that was worrying even for him. With nausea came a lack of sleep, nights spent tossing and turning and waking up in a cold sweat with his thumb ha;f-lodged in his mouth. He always pulled it out with a reluctant disgust.
He wanted so desperately to let himself go, to let his thoughts be whisked away by fuzzy blankets and soft cooing, but he couldn’t. He didn’t have a moment to himself between streams and meetups and Schlatt constantly being in his vicinity, in his home.
It should’ve been fine! He’d been able to hold off regressing for weeks on end before, four days should’ve been nothing! But now that he wasn’t used to feeling constantly bad and stressed, he didn’t know how to handle it anymore.
And Schlatt just made it so much worse.
Not terribly, no, but the man was so casually affectionate that it hurt just a bit. The constant holding hands, the way he’d ruffle Charlie’s hair in the mornings, the way he’d sling his soft arms around Charlie’s shoulders, the way Schlatt would smile at Charlie and sit right in his space despite the couch being large enough for three to sit comfortably. He was just so nice, so soft and warm and grounding and curved and sloping on all of his edges. He called Charlie things like “bud” and “champ” on a regular basis, to the point where Charlie wasn’t sure if he even knew he was doing it. He was effortlessly catering to an environment perfect for a little Charlie, and he didn’t even know it.
Charlie wasn’t sure why the thought hurt so much.
It didn’t matter now anyway.
Charlie sat at his desk, scrubbing at his eyes as an exhaustion more than physical tugged at his bones. He’d just finished a stream, and was now debating whether or not he wanted to get up and grab himself a midnight snack. He had tried to keep it down in courtesy of Schlatt, who surely must’ve been sleeping by now, but his throat still hurt from talking so much, and something to stave off the hunger pains accompanying the nausea that’d become commonplace these days wouldn’t be so bad.
With that in mind, Charlie stood from his desk and made his way to the kitchen, his footsteps just a little unsteady and rounded off as his head weighed heavy and static on his shoulders. He was surprised to find the lights on in the kitchen, especially after glancing at the clock on the stove and seeing it was almost two in the morning.
Did he forget to turn off the light earlier?
Two steps further in and— ah, that’s why.
Schlatt was looking through the cabinet, dressed in his usual sleep clothes of a worn sweater and shorts. Both of their sleep schedules weren’t the best, but surprisingly this was the first time they’d crossed paths so late at night. Or early in the morning, whichever.
Schlatt glanced over from his searching and softened when he noticed Charlie probably looking like the perfect example of overtired.
“Hey bud.” He greeted with such a soft voice and— oh, that rock in Charlie’s stomach just sunk deeper, digging claws into his organs and making him aware of how everything hurt.
He took in a breath and hoped it didn’t hitch as loud as he thought it did. “Hi.” He mumbled back, unable to think of anything else to say with his tongue sitting useless in his mouth.
Schlatt just softened more, looking through the cabinet again. “You want anything?” He asked, keeping his voice quiet and soft with the early time in mind, which again, really wasn’t helping.
“Poptarts.” Charlie answered, and really he should’ve known better than to give himself away so easily. He only ever ate poptarts when he was small, and Schlatt had sat on enough calls with him munching on a thin, frosted treat and babbling about Winnie the Pooh to know that.
Schlatt clicked his tongue, his brow furrowing in a way that made the rock feel larger, heavier, as he glanced back at Charlie. “I’m sorry, bud. Looks like there’s no more.”
The rock sunk, sunk, and popped. Every bad feeling carefully coiled up and hidden away dispersed into his body, wringing his muscles out with exhaustion and fogging his head up with heavy, dense fog being pricked in the edges with needles. Tears quickly welled up in his waterline as he tugged on the hem of his shirt to ground himself against the tidal wave of terrible he was being pushed into. “Oh.”
The small sound must’ve been pathetic enough to grab Schlatt’s attention because not even seconds after, the man’s face was the only thing filling his vision, hands cupping his cheeks and examining him with nothing but worry and soft concern.
No judgement. No disappointment. None of the other icky bad things Charlie had feared being subject to for slipping.
The tears slipped down as Charlie hiccuped, soft and small like a kicked puppy.
“Oh, kid.” Schlatt murmured, tone dripping with hot chocolate and soft sweaters, warm hugs and full bellies.
Charlie hiccuped again, the sound followed by a quiet sob as he leaned forward into the mentally older man’s chest. He gave a pained, overwhelmed hum, nuzzling his face into Schlatt’s shoulder and barely noticing the tears and snot getting on the man’s sweater. Warm, fluffy arms circled around him, squeezing and holding so perfectly.
“It’s alright, I’ve got you, bubba.” Schlatt soothed, tucking him under his chin and slowly rubbing his back. “You’re alright, let it out, babe.”
And Charlie did. He cried and wailed, letting out every bad icky feeling with tears and mucus and loud sobbing. He was just so tired, so done with being big and put together. He wanted cuddles, wanted to babble about his stuffed animals and be rewarded for it with head pats and amused, fond words and smiles. He wanted the world to be soft for a moment, to allow him to break and then help mold his jagged edges back to their natural shape.
Schlatt held him through his fit, only pulling back when the wails died down to sniffles and Charlie started slumping in his arms. “Let’s get you to the couch, bud.” He murmured, hefting the other up just a bit before helping him toddle his way to the couch.
Charlie slumped down onto the cushions, rolling over to lay down and hide himself in the dip where the seat and back of the couch connected. He whined softly when Schlatt stepped away, not loud enough to be heard, and quieted down anyway when the man returned moments later and lifted up Charlie’s legs to sit down with them in his own lap.
Charlie whined with eyelids fluttering as a warm hand settled on his calf, the other holding his opposite knee. Schlatt was there. He’d failed to stay big, to keep his promise to himself and not be a burden, and Schlatt was still there. That should’ve probably made him feel better, but really it just made him feel guilty. A hiccup burst out of his throat, his eyes dry if only because he had no tears left.
“Sowry…” Charlie mumbled out, voice muffled by the couch, but Schlatt was close enough to hear anyway. The hand on his knee moved up to thumb circles into his shoulder, grounding as always. It felt like a burning purge, stripping away the terrible stress that clung to him but leaving behind raw, angry nerves all the same.
“Why’re you sorry, bubba?” His caregiver asked in that soft, perfect voice of his. Unfair, really. That soft voice and those soft hands are what got him in this mess in the first place. Still, Charlie’s voice wobbled and as he poured out his heart’s troubles.
“W- was twyin’ ta stay big cus I wan’ed hang out an’- an’ di’nt wanna m-make you mad cus you wan’ big m-me not wittle me an’ I sowry!” He bawled, squirming around until he could curl up with his back against the armrest, facing his caregiver.
Schlatt looked just about heartbroken at that, which was a very new expression to see on the man. He’d seen him upset and overwhelmed, sure, but never so hurt. “Bub, why in the world would you think I didn’t want little you?” He asked, glancing between Charlie’s arms and his face a few times like he wanted to reach out but didn’t want to scare the tyke.
Charlie shrugged, sniffling and wiping his nose with his sleeve (he’d be revolted by the texture later, but right now he just didn’t care). “Cus- cus you wanna hang out, an’... am too smawl.” He admitted, curling tightly with his face pressed into his knees as a small whimper slipped past his lips.
Schlatt sighed, not upset in any way, but Charlie still curled up a bit tighter at the sound. “Can I hug you, bud?” He asked and pulled the little into his side when he timidly nodded, hand brushing through his soft, mussed locks as he talked. “I will always want you, even when I don’t say it outright or when I wanna do ‘big’ stuff with you and you’re too small for it. I love sitting on call with you, listening to you giggle and babble to your plushies and hearing your soft little snores halfway through a movie. ‘s like it turns my brain off, bubba, and all I gotta focus on is my little guy.” He murmured, punctuating the name with a ruffle to Charlie’s hair, which he wetly giggled at.
Schlatt hesitated for just a second before his face softened, squeezing Charlie’s shoulder to get his attention (as if he’d ever lost it). “Wait here a second, I’ve got something I wanna show you.”
Charlie whined as Schlatt pulled away, leaving him on the couch, but didn’t try to stop him. His legs felt too gooey and his head was still all cloudy and fuzzy, in no state to walk by himself. Thankfully, Schlatt came back a few minutes later as promised, this time with a rather stuffed drawstring bag in hand. He dumped it out onto the couch next to Charlie and–
Colors. A rainbow variety of soft plushies, blue and green and pink pacifiers with matching teethers and paci clips, fidget toys and coloring books of varying themes, shape puzzles and actual puzzles and bottles and sippy cups and–
And everything Schlatt could ever need to take care of Charlie in person, already bought and prepared, as if he was expecting this, as if he wanted this, and oh how that made warmth and guilt bubble up in Charlie’s chest. He whimpered, glancing up at Schlatt with overwhelmed awe and uncertainty.
Schlatt just smiled, running a hand through his own messy brown hair as he sat down on the other side of the pile of gear. “I… might have gone overboard with the online shopping, but I wanted to make sure you’d have everything you needed for as long as you needed, since we probably won’t get to meet up again for a while after this trip and I know you don’t really like buying gear for yourself.”
Both very true statements, they were bound to get busy again after this little ‘break’, and Charlie really did get too embarrassed by the simple idea of ordering little gear to actually buy it himself. Charlie didn’t react though, still sniffling and staring like Schlatt just handed him every star in the sky.
Schlatt cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, slightly unsure. “I… also looked forward to taking care of you in person, but I didn’t wanna push you or mention it to you just in case you weren’t comfortable with that.” He admitted, which sounded just silly to Charlie.
Of course he’d be comfortable with his caregiver, Schlatt’s the only reason he even started accepting his littlespace in the first place! As it was though, Charlie was a wee bit too tiny to really express that, having slipped further from just fuzzy to fully drained and fogged up. He gave a soft whine, knocking a few things off the couch in his struggle to crawl into Schlatt’s lap. His caregiver, thankfully, got the message and scooped Charlie up, depositing him against his own chest before reaching around and down to pick up the gear that had fallen.
Charlie didn’t even notice, his eyes fully on his caregiver. He tried telling the man he loved him, he was so grateful for him, that he truly loved being taken care of by him, but all he managed was a soft mumble, to which Schlatt cooed at and nuzzled his hair. Charlie huffed, raising a tired, trembling hand to flop ungracefully on Schlatt’s face.
The man chuckled, gently squeezing the little wrist as he placed a kiss to the palm and pulled it away. “What’s up, bug?” He asked, a bit relieved now that Charlie seemed to have settled. That fresh wisp of air in his lungs was almost immediately stolen again as Charlie whispered, “‘ammy.”
It was soft and slurred, barely even a word, but all too audible to Schlatt’s ears.
Rammy.
“Is that me, bubba?” Schlatt whispered, struggling to breathe against the explosion of warmth and fondness and all around love in his chest. “Am I Rammy?”
“‘ammy!” Charlie repeated, having practically no other way to show what the man meant to him, how much he cared, and Schlatt’s heart was getting dangerously close to breaking, though this time from pure attachment alone.
Charlie didn’t know why his caregiver suddenly looked like he was going to cry, but he was quickly distracted from worrying as he was squeezed close to that warm chest he’d been longing for, kisses and wet droplets falling on his hair as he snuggled in. “Yeah baby, Rammy’s here. Rammy’s got you.”
Charlie cooed, wrapped in fuzzy warmth as his tears dried on his cheeks, fists weakly clinging to the other’s soft sweater. He couldn’t even remember what he was so upset about, only that it was over now and Rammy was here and all was right in the world again–
His stomach growled.
Schlatt passed a hand over it before Charlie could start whining, clicking his tongue as he wiped the little’s eyes with his free hand. “Right, you haven’t eaten in a while, huh? Should probably get you a snack.” He mused aloud before helping Charlie tilt his chin up. “How old you feelin’, buggy?”
Charlie just blinked at him, eyes wide with not a single adult thought behind them. He just wanted his Rammy, that’s all. Well, him and a snack, of course. He whined when his tummy grumbled again.
Schlatt cooed again, ruffling Charlie’s hair. “Ooh, small boy today. ‘s alright, all we need to do is get you fed and bathed and into bed, okay? We can explore all of your new toys tomorrow, but for now, let’s just pick a pacifier, okay?”
Charlie hummed his agreement, because anything sounded nice in that warm, amber smooth voice of Schlatt’s, and watched as his hand drifted over the pile before he whined at one of the pacifiers, a soft red one with a moobloom cow decal on the button and a golden bell hanging on the handle. It was quickly clipped onto the collar of his shirt and slipped into his mouth.
The teat was perfectly formed to his mouth, so much better than his thumb, and his eyes immediately started drooping as he was picked up and carried to the kitchen. Distantly, he could hear the soft sounds of someone humming and smell sweetened milk and vanilla on the stove, but then his Rammy started lightly bouncing Charlie on his hip and he was lost to the world, dipping down into a doze.
He was very rudely awakened as Schlatt set him down on a cold surface that pressed into the backs of his thighs, drawing out a muffled whine from behind his new pacifier.
Schlatt chuckled, ruffling Charlie’s hair. “Oh, I know, pumpkin, you’re all sleepy. But we gotta get you clean, okay? Don’t wanna go to bed all dirty, now do we?” He reminded, to which Charlie reluctantly nodded, because yeah, that kind of made sense.
Once he had the little’s permission, Schlatt started undressing him, humming a soft, mindless tune as he pulled away each layer and then slipped Charlie into the bath with his pacifier no longer clipped but still in his mouth. Charlie melted, slowly suckling at his pacifier as he watched his caregiver clean him. His eyes kept drooping, but he wanted to stay awake for his Rammy, even if all he could do while awake was give weak coos and gurgles.
Charlie blinked, and he was being changed into one of Schlatt’s much bigger sweaters–which also smelled like him, so that was nice–and a soft pair of shorts, hair dripping onto Schlatt’s sleep shirt as the man carried him to his own bed. He groaned as he was moved into it, settled comfortably on the mentally older’s lap with his cheek pressed to his collarbone.
“Okay, little bugger. Bottle time.” Schlatt announced, because apparently sometime between now and the bath Schlatt had grabbed the bottle. Charlie didn’t care too much, instead letting his pacifier fall and immediately giving needy whines for the sweet milk in the plastic container.
Schlatt obliged, holding it up for the little when it became obvious Charlie had no intention of holding up his bottle on his own. “There you go, that’s a good boy.” He muttered, absently rubbing horizontal lines across Charlie’s tummy as he drank.
The feeling only made his fight against sleep even harder, and he gave a quiet whine as his eyes started to get too heavy. He let out another one when the bottle was pulled away, mouth opening and closing in confusion when the rubber bit didn't return. It was replaced with the silicone teat of his pacifier, and he settled down again, snuggling close to his Rammy as his eyes finally closed.
Schlatt sighed as Charlie’s breathing deepened around his pacifier, slipping away into sleep. He leaned down, brushing the hair back from his forehead and pressing a kiss to the spot where his brows would connect. “Just rest now, bub. Rammy’s watching over you.”