MAY 30

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   Never all at once, rather only in small, (more or less) bearable doses— Seungmin began to do little things for Jeongin. Things Jeongin was obviously capable of doing on his own. Not just spoon-feeding him ice cream, but pouring him water and holding the back of his head while tipping the cup for him to drink, tying his shoes for him, tucking him into bed, etc. And all the while Jeongin had to try not to get overwhelmed by his embarrassment and slight panic and simply let it happen. And little by little, with each small gesture accepted, he grew used to finding a time to put away his independence.

   ...Because hyung was there to depend on.

    But all the while, Jeongin wondered, perhaps even worried, was it really working how it was supposed to— the way Seungmin expected? He didn't really feel any different (besides embarrassed and awkward) when Seungmin did these things for him— he didn't think he was mentally "regressed" at all, which Seungmin had mentioned as being part of the equation during his brief explanation. Even as they took baby step after baby step and as he got accustomed to the discomfort and minor humiliation of being cared for as if he were a small child, Jeongin was just as capable of doing it all himself. Was that how it was supposed to be?

    Well, after about a week of these baby steps, Jeongin worked up the courage to ask.

    He'd just woken up from a nap that Seungmin had encouraged him to take, seeing as he had the day off and he was acting rather sleepy. Upon shuffling downstairs to the living room, where Seungmin sat reading a book, he was chuckled at for his bedhead.

    "Come sit down; I'll get a comb."

    And Jeongin sat quietly, staring at the book Seungmin had shoved aside and left on the coffee table (without even bothering to mark his spot). Ignoring the slightly faded impulse to say he'd do it himself, knowing he'd be chided for it. Would it ever really go away?

    When Seungmin came back, he sat close to Jeongin and reached out to smooth down the strands sticking up. Still groggy, Jeongin had to admit that the touch, at least, was nice. But it didn't take away the discomfort that still remained when Seungmin gently worked through his knots.

    "Hyung?" Jeongin's questioning voice appeared, timid and soft.

    Seungmin was, judging by the way his movements halted for a half-second, a bit surprised that he spoke. Most of the time, in these moments, Jeongin ended up staying quiet, finding it hard to speak when he felt so awkward.

    "Hm?"

    "Am I... supposed to feel different?" Jeongin fumbled, bringing a hand to his mouth to bite at his already chewed-up nails. "Like a..."

    "Like a kid?"

    "Yeah. I mean, is this it? " The question hung in the air alone a moment. "How do I know if it's, um... working?"

   Running the comb through Jeongin's dark hair again (probably more to give his hands something to do than anything) Seungmin gave a short, pensive hum. "Well, to be honest, I don't entirely know what it's supposed to feel like. But, yeah, as far as I know, there should be a definite shift in how your... brain... feels. Or something." he paused just long enough for a punctuating chuckle. "You're supposed to be in a younger headspace, whatever that means."

   "Oh." Jeongin gave a half-nod, slightly reassured, but mostly disturbed, as he suddenly wondered if he could ever manage that. Beyond all the awkwardness; beyond the pure strangeness of Seungmin babying him, was getting into that younger headspace something he truly wanted for himself? What did it even mean to feel younger?

   Seungmin suddenly stopped, the comb dropping to his lap.

   Jeongin cast an inquisitive glance to the side toward him, and by then, Seungmin was getting up.

   "I have something for you," Seungmin announced.

    So Jeongin, anxiously wondering what on earth it could be, followed behind until he stood aimlessly in Seungmin's bedroom while the older boy rifled through his closet.

    From the closet, Seungmin called (competing with the sound of rustling plastic): "So— you don't have to use it. If it, uh— if it makes you uncomfortable, I'll take it back and we can forget about it, but..." He emerged from the closet then, his hands held behind his back as he continued to explain. "I always see you biting things when you get anxious. Y'know. Lips. Nails. Fingers. The like." Seungmin paused, chuckling slightly at the way Jeongin— caught red-handed (literally)— pulled his front-teeth-dented index finger away from his mouth as Seungmin said that, averting his eyes. "I wondered if this might help."

   At first, when a slightly flushed Seungmin placed it in his hands, Jeongin was tense; wide-eyed. He'd been eased (if you could call it that when it wasn't easy at all) into Seungmin caring for him, but this?

   ...A pacifier?

   Could he really do this? Did he even want to? 

   But then again, Seungmin was waiting, looking at him with nothing but genuine care...

   With burning cheeks he put it into his mouth, holding it between his front teeth only. He held his tongue back, pulling it toward his throat, almost afraid to let it touch the foreign thing in his mouth. And he was about to feel upset with himself for disappointing his hyung, and all the more humiliated for having to remove a pacifier from his mouth as an adult with a perfectly adult mind— because nothing seemed to be happening. Not wanting to face that by giving up, he left it in for a few more moments... and once he allowed himself a chance to actually think about it instead of thinking about what was to come after— and slowly let it rest between his lips; on top of his tongue... he realized it was kind of a nice feeling, sucking softly on the silicone. And, he realized his vision was getting blurry because his eyes were about to spill over with tears.

    Jeongin found the answer to his earlier question now. 

    What did it mean to feel younger? For him, there was a single, simple answer. And that was: being afraid.

   Muffled and distorted by the pacifier, he whimpered, "Hyung— w-what's happening to me?" It had all started so quickly, before Jeongin had the chance to notice himself being tugged under. He'd never felt his mind slipping away like this— he felt as if he was just floating away, lost to a riptide, until Seungmin caught him gently by the hands, guiding him to the floor as his knees went wobbly.

   Chills ran down his spine in the sudden silence while his desperate eyes searched Seungmin's. Begging. Save me. I'm drowning.

   "You're okay, little one." Seungmin smiled warmly at him, but it just made Jeongin start full-on sobbing.

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   Seungmin felt fucking terrible as he pulled Jeongin into his lap, letting him melt over his shoulder, wetting it with his snot and tears as it muffled his wailing (the pacifier having fallen to the floor). He had only meant to give him a safe place to relieve some pent-up stress and to experience being cared for as he should've been years ago; he hadn't expected it to cause him so much pain. 

...But he only felt worse when Jeongin started crying for Mama and Daddy. Those broken cries broke his heart.

   It took quite some time for Seungmin to hold him and rock him until he had calmed down enough for Seungmin to say, with the words of comfort just naturally falling from his mouth as if someone else had put them there:  "I know, baby... I'm sorry. I know you want Mama and Daddy back. ...I'm sure they want to come back to you just as much."

   Silence (except for Jeongin's shaky breaths).

    "But hyung won't leave you, okay?" Hand gently brushing down the back of his head repeatedly, Seungmin coaxed Jeongin to pull his damp and dripping face out from the hiding place it'd found in his neck. When he looked into those wet eyes, they were so intense— so deep, dark, and entirely wild— that for a moment, Seungmin didn't know if the boy he was holding was really his unassuming, mild-mannered little brother.  

   Even softer than any of the words thus spoken, Seungmin added, whispering: "Hyungie's here. You're safe."

   That seemed to do something. The foreign, wild eyes turned downward, half-hidden from Seungmin's view. Placated, he hoped? ...At least he wasn't crying anymore.

   In slow motion, Jeongin's arms retracted from Seungmin's shoulders. He pulled away from his chest, forming a gap between their bodies. Within a minute or so he crawled out of Seungmin's lap completely and proceeded to stare blankly, silently at the wall with huge eyes. Eyes that were no longer wild, but not normal, either; vacant and clouded.

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   Within fifteen or so minutes of slipping for the first time, Jeongin had succeded in fighting to get back to his adult headspace. He'd thrashed and kicked hard enough to get back to the surface.

That was...

That was terrifying.

But... maybe there was some tiny glimpse of peace in it, too? 

Mostly just terrifying.

   Seungmin had been watching him silently, but now he spoke up. "Innie? Are you okay?" He was too afraid to touch him, worried he might shatter.

   Finally, Jeongin reacted, snapping back into breath and motion as if he'd just been resuscitated. ...Glanced at the glaring wet spot on Seungmin's shoulder. At the dropped pacifier on the floor. Remembered what had just happened. What he'd just done.

   Whereas before he was paler than a sheet, he went red in the face as he turned to Seungmin, nodding slowly.

   ...It'd get easier with time, right?

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