DSMP Agere/ comfort/ sick fics

Dadza

Little: Wilbur
Adult/ caregiver: Philza

Synopsis: something about being around dadza, brings out the little in Wilbur!

Wilbur hated travelling. It was stressful and loud and busy and there were so many people.

He counted in his head, tried listening to music and even practised his breathing, but by the time he emerged on the platform he felt awful. He is saved an ultimate breakdown by his name being called.

When he turns, he spots Phil smiling and waving, one hand in his pocket and looking like he wanted nothing more than to see Wilbur.

The brunette sighs in relief and crosses over, throwing himself into the older's arms who is taken aback but quickly adjusts, holding the younger and patting his back before pulling away and taking his bag.

Wilbur tries to keep up, tries to maintain his responses but it's difficult, and eventually Phil just lets him drift off for the car ride, sure that he would recover soon.

*

"We don't have to announce the meet up until tomorrow so for now we can just settle in- wanna help me make some dinner?"

"Sounds good" Wilbur says tiredly, shifting from foot to foot in the kitchen as Phil smiles gently. The older was very aware of Wilbur's anxiety and knew that change and travel only increased it, so he wasn't going to push him.

"Okay mate, I'm just going to grab the- oh!"

There is a loud crash as Phil opens the lower cupboard door, colourful items littering themselves across the floor in front of their eyes.

Wilbur stares at them curiously, picking up a bright orange sippy cup. He holds the item securely, gripping it like his life depended on it. He knew this feeling, the thin sheet of warmth when handling comforting items- but that couldn't happen here, not with Phil.

"-niece visits sometimes, Kristen seriously stocked up" he chuckles, extending a hand for the cup in Wilbur's hands, surprised when the younger pulls it closer to his chest

"Er- Wil?"

Wilbur shakily hands it over, a sad noise escaping his lips before blushing, leaving Phil very confused.

"Um... you can hold onto it a bit longer if you like?" He suggests and Wil suddenly smiles, nodding enthusiastically. Phil nods, dazed as the boy suddenly sits heavily on the floor, cradling the item and pretending to drink from it.

"Wilbur- do you want me to fill it up?" He tries cautiously, smiling softly when Wilbur looks up in timid excitement.

The older didn't understand. Why was Wilbur acting so... childishly?

He quietly fills it up with juice and tentatively hands it back to the boy on the floor who makes grabby hands before pressing it to his lips. Curious, Phil bends down to his height and tries to understand.

"Um... so Wil? Are you alright? What's with the sippy cup, Hmm?"

Wilbur looks up, eyes glassy. Phil had never seen him wear that expression before.

"Sm'll"

"Small?... What's small?" Replies Phil in perplexion

"Wilby sm'll"

"You're... small?"

Wilbur nods, satisfied.

"You're small... like- you're a small boy? Young?" he pushes, expression clearing when Wilbur nods slowly

"I don't- oh" he pauses and whips out his phone, Googling for a few minutes before coming across age regression. It seems to fit. He is confused but relaxes as he reads the last line of his article.

Littles will willingly act their mental age around someone they trust implicitly.

Someone they trust implicitly... Wilbur trusted him with this. And he couldn't let him down.

Phil breaks into a dawning smile and looks down at the boy, who had by now finished his cup and was fidgeting.

"Ok Wilbur, I think we need to get you comfy. Then dinner and bed Hmm? How does that sound?" He experiments.

He isn't sure how much Wilbur actually understands, but the little claps and grins with a cloudy expression as Phil helps him to his feet. The older is sure Wil has fully regressed by now, as he waddles next to the older and out of the kitchen. He can't deny it, Wilbur is positively adorable like this.

Phil leads the little into the guest room and rummages a little guiltily through Wil's bag, finding a pair of red footie pyjamas that he offers to the younger. The little blushes and lifts his arms up.

"Do you need some help, little one?"

Wil nods, mouth slightly open as Phil carefully and respectfully helps him change. Once ready, Phil offers his hand only for Wil to extend his arms again, this time a little sheepishly.

"Uppies ple'se" he says in a small voice

Phil melts, pulling the boy into his arms who rests in the crook of his neck, carrying the little back into the kitchen and setting him at the table. It was a struggle, and his back would pay for it tomorrow, but Phil honestly couldn't find it in himself to care.

The lasagne from earlier was ready, and Phil places it on the table and serves some to Wil who picks up a fork determinedly.

Phil confiscates it quickly, turning it in his own hand before taking a portion and blowing on it gently. The little watches with wide eyes until Phil makes a sudden airplane noise, diving the fork towards Wil who opens his mouth and chomps happily, sauce dripping down his chin that Phil expertly wipes away.

He was getting the hang of this.

Mealtime continues in much the same way, Phil feeding them alternately until the little turns away and yawns, eyes drooping.

"Ok little man, I think it's time for bed, don't you?" He suggests quietly and Wilbur nods, squirming as Phil wipes his face one more time.

He doesn't hesitate to pick the little up this time, jogging him on his hip as Wilbur chirps happily, giggling adorably.

He settles the little under the covers and retrieves a book, Lord of the rings to be specific, opening it to the first page. It was big Wilbur's favourite book, but he was right in his predictions that little Wilbur would enjoy it too.

The little seemed exhausted after such a busy day, succumbing quickly as Phil hesitates then places a kiss on his forehead.

He may not be Wilbur's actual dad, but that didn't mean he couldn't help out. Wilbur was already like a son to him, and that wouldn't change, big or small.