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Keith frowned, standing in front of Shiros door of the castleship. His shoulders hunched anxiously and his eyes flitted to the sides of the hallway to make sure it was empty for the umpteenth tike before sighing. This, he guessed, is what his life had become. He was little-not that anyone on his team knew…except for Shiro that is.
Shiro had known before this whole space mess when they were told a rag tag group of teenagers and the last two alteans (one of which was possibly a teenager- he really wasn't sure how old Allura was but it seemed rude to ask) were the worlds last hope. Regardless, Shiro had noticed when he hadnt shown up to classes one afternoon and overrode access to get to his barrack bunk in the middle of a particularly unpleasant forced drop.
The older paladin had been helping Keith whenever Keith's body forced him to submit to his own biology- when sheer force and will could no longer keep the tide of headspace from not only lapping at his feet, but from crashing like a wave sending him down.
Yeah. Keith really didn't enjoy being little. They were annoying and whiney and needy. He hadn't needed anyone growing up except his Pa, and that wouldn't change because of some biological difference that forced other people around him to take care of him. This led him to his current predicament.
He was little- yes…but he was on the well… younger side of things.
His cheeks burned bright red and he checked the hallway again for any signs of people before he even considered knocking on the door. Keith had never been more humiliated in his life, but here he was, standing in front of Shiros door like a complete and utter idiot. It had been the fifth morning in a row he had woken up to discover he had woken up wet. Not that there was any evidence on his pants or bed, Shiro had convinced him to wear…protection when he had started losing sleep.
So he was wearing diapers. He felt like he was hitting rock bottom.
Usually, it was a once a week thing, maybe more if he was stressed, but at this point, he was wetting his diaper nightly. To make things worse, his hands were getting too clumsy to paw at the tapes on his diaper- reduced coordination was a symptom of drop sickness, he knew. The micro-regressions that happened when Shiro helped him weren't enough, but dipping his toes in the water was easier than being pulled under. It wasn't the healthiest, but hey- he hadn't forcibly dropped yet.
Just a little emotionally unstable.
Just a little uncoordinated.
Just a little insecure.
But he could take care of himself…kind of.
OK maybe not so much. That’s what landed him here now. He needed help. Changing his own god damned wet diaper. He wanted to crawl out of his skin and live in someone else's.
He raised his hand to knock.
Moments passed like hours, each tick of the clock amplifying his anxiety until the door finally opened.
"Keith," Shiro greeted, pleased to see him in any circumstance. “Everything ok?” He asked, eyes scanning Keith briefly.
“Uh…can I come in?,” Keith mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. He shifted again, his cheeks burning as he found it hard to meet Shiro’s gaze.
Keith hesitated, glancing down the hallway one last time before slipping through the door, relief washing over him as it closed behind them.
“Of course. You know you can always come to me,” Shiro said, his tone gentle and reassuring. “What’s going on?”
He took a deep breath and spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “I- uhm… I need…uh…” He couldn't even bring himself to admit it aloud. Fuck, he wanted to cry.
A look of understanding crossed Shiro's face and his expression softened and Keith wanted to sink into the floor. "Oh, buddy. Again?”
Face red-hot with shame, Keith nodded, looking anywhere but the man in question. He tugged his shirt down unconsciously, sensitive to any exposed evidence of his… protection.
“Hey, hey.” Shiro soothed. “It's okay, Keith. Let's get you sorted out. Cmon, let's head to the bathroom. I’ll get what we need.” Shiro said warmly, hand waving to the bathroom in an inviting gesture.
He could feel the heat radiating from his cheeks as he followed Shiro into the small, white-tiled bathroom. It felt surreal, standing in this space meant for adults, yet needing assistance with something so fundamentally childlike.
Keith walked in hesitantly, upset at burdening his older brother figure with such a disgusting and babyish ta-
“Quit thinking so hard, I can hear your brain frying from here.” The older paladin moved with a practiced ease, grabbing supplies from the cupboard without a hint of hesitation.
Keith swallowed hard, the lump in his throat threatening to choke him as he forced himself to meet Shiro’s gaze. “Yeah, but…” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “I should be able to handle this myself.”
“We all need some help from time to time.” Shiro said gently, his eyes never leaving Keith’s as he moved closer. “Just try to relax. I've got you.”
Keith nodded again, though he still felt stiff and uneasy. He turned slightly, allowing Shiro to help him with his shirt and pants, his hands fumbling with the buttons and zippers in a way that made him feel even more like a child. Shiro's hands were gentle, guiding him through the process with a comforting no-nonsense assurance.
“Okay, lets lay you down.” Shiro smiled, patting the unrolled changing mat as he lowered himself to his knees on the spacious bathroom floor.
Keith gently lowered himself down, groaning and covering his face when his legs were gently parted, his soggy diaper in full view. “Shiro,” He began to protest only to be soothingly shushed by the older man. Trying to stay still, Keith twitched impatiently. It was hard not to be squirmy when you knew someone was laser focused on cleaning your junk.
He didnt want to be here. He wanted to cry. His breath hitched, and he clamped down the whimper that threatened to bubble out of his throat.
“Hey, just breathe, Keith,” Shiro said gently, his voice steady and calming as a wet wipe swiped across his nether reigion. “Just focus on me, it’s okay to let me take care of you.”
His voice cracked a bit, and he hated how weak he sounded. “I feel so…I can’t even… I can’t even change myself anymore.”
Shiro paused for a moment, looking at him with a mix of sympathy and understanding. “That doesn’t mean you’re weak, Keith. It probably just means youre getting drop sick. You just might need some more little time than you’ve been allowing yourself to have. Itll be like a reset for your coordination, focus, really everything.”
Keith shifted uncomfortably, his face still flushed with embarrassment. “I don’t know, Shiro. I just… I hate feeling like this. It’s so humiliating. I don’t want to be a burden.”
Shiro’s hands paused momentarily, his gaze gentle and full of warmth as he looked at Keith. “Keith,” he said softly, “you’re not a burden. I want you to really hear me on this: you are not a burden to me. I care about you deeply, and I love taking care of you. It's an honor and a privilege, not a problem. It’s something I genuinely get fulfillment out of doing.”
Keith’s eyes darted away, struggling with his feelings of embarrassment, even in the face of Shiro’s strong, compassionate declaration. He hated that he couldnt bring himself to believe it. “I just feel so weak and exposed. I don’t want to be this way. I dont want to…I-”
He took a deep breathe, one that hitched on the edge of a sob. “I hate this,” Keith admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I hate feeling like a scared little kid again, like I’m… broken.”
“You’re not broken,” Shiro said firmly, finishing up the task at hand. “You’re going through a really tough life transition, and it’s okay to feel upset about it. But you’re still my Keith.”
With a few gentle motions, Shiro cleaned Keith up, and while it was awkward to have such an intimate conversation on the bathroom floor, the older paladin’s comfort was enough to keep Keith grounded. “You’ve been holding on for so long. It’s okay to let go sometimes,” Shiro reassured, applying a fresh layer of powder before unfolding a new diaper.
Wait… new diaper…?
“Uhm…Shiro, its morning" he blatantly stared at the older man like he'd grown a second head. “I only use those at night.” Keith protested as another diaper was fastened around his waist.
“I think its better to be safe than sorry" Shiro smiled sympathetically, patting the front of the diaper in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture, but Keith hated when he was big. “Especially since you’ve been having more accidents.”
Offended at the notion of not being able to stay dry during the daytime, Keith glared up at the man, cheeks puffed in defiance. He probably did look little with his arms crossed, laying on a changing mat, in nothing but a diaper after a change, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
“I don’t think it’s a bad thing.” Shiro began as he started putting away changing supplies. “In fact, I think its great that you're finally setting into your headspace. Some more time spent little will be good for you.” He said, patting Keith's knee supportively.
As Shiro cleaned up around the room, Keith felt a storm of emotions swirling inside him. The warmth of the fresh diaper around his waist was a stark reminder of how far he felt from his usual self. He hated that Shiro seemed to think this was a good thing. A part of him wanted to fight back, to assert his independence and prove he could still handle everything on his own.
Oblivious to Keiths turmoil, Shiro began threading his charge’s exposed legs into a pair of soft red sweatpants, grateful for the lack of fussing.
“What if I don’t want to be a baby?” he shot back, his voice softer now, more desperate. “What if I just want to be normal again?”
Shiro turned to face him, his expression serious. “You don’t have to be little all the time, Keith. Just…well, let go when you need it. You can’t keep pushing yourself and pretending everything is okay when it’s not. Sooner or later, it'll catch up to you.”
He shot Shiro a defiant glare, feeling small but unwilling to show it. He did what he usually did when he was feeling small- he got angry. He grabbed his shirt from the corner of the room and yanked it over his head, his movements sharp and impatient.
“Letting go doesn’t mean turning into a giant toddler!” he snapped again, his voice laced with a mix of indignation and hurt. “I don’t want to sit in a diaper and suck my thumb just to be able to say dry at night. I just want to be normal!”
With that, he stormed out of the bathroom, pushing past Shiro and letting the door swish shut behind him. He almost wished he had a door to slam.
Keith stormed down the corridor, the familiar layout of the castle ship suddenly feeling foreign and suffocating. His fists clenched at his sides as he fought against the rush of emotions threatening to spill over. He felt humiliated, angry, and like he was spinning out of control.
He wanted to scream, to break something, but all he could do was dart into his room, fighting the urge to cry. What was wrong with him? He just wanted to be normal, to feel in control of his life again, and yet here he was, running away from the one person who had always cared enough to help him.
He slid down against his locked door, his back pressing against the cold wall, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. He didn’t want to feel like this. He wanted to prove that he was still capable, still strong. But even as that small voice in the back of his mind whispered that maybe he did need help, that maybe it was okay to let someone else take charge for a little while. He shoved the thought away, unwilling to entertain it any longer.
“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath.
He wasn’t some baby. And he would prove it.
*******************
Keith tried to shake off the feelings of discomfort as he sat at the kitchen table, a knife in hand, determined to distract himself by cutting up some fruit. The repetitive motions were grounding.
As he focused intently on chopping, his mind wandered back to the confrontation with Shiro. The thought of being babied, of giving in to this urge , gnawed at him like a relentless itch he couldn't scratch. He shook his head, trying to banish the thoughts, but they just clung tightly.
In a moment of distraction, the knife slipped, nicking his finger. “Ow!” he yelped, dropping his blade with a clang. Panic surged through him as he clutched his finger, the sting sharp and immediate. He looked down at the small rivulet of blood forming at the tip and felt his heart race.
“Okay, it’s just a little cut,” he whispered to himself, but the anxiety twisted in his gut. “I’m fine.”
Yet even as he tried to reassure himself, the tears he fought against threatened to spill over. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the impending wave of emotions to subside, but they only grew more insistent. The small, childish part of him that he was trying so hard to suppress began to surface, amplifying every feeling of inadequacy and fear. He hated when everything felt bigger than him.
Keith whimpered, biting back a sob as he watched his finger begin to bleed and the urge to cry only intensified. Why did everything feel so overwhelming?
“I’m not a baby…” he whispered, but even he could hear the uncertainty in his voice. The ache in his finger hurt sure, but it was a worse slap in the face how easily he could slip. He was sure the injury wasn’t that bad, but...
He wanted a hug. Maybe someone to kiss it better, because that’s what everyone else’s mom had done. The thought sent another wave of vulnerability crashing over him. Keith's breathing hitched as he struggled to maintain his composure.
He looked at the blood beading from the finger and flinched. He had such a bad boo-injury…He needed… he needed a grown-up. He just wanted to be held and told that everything would be alright.
No! He couldn't be dropping now! He had to be bigger- he was… he was in the kitchen. He didn't want to be a baby in the kitchen where anyone could see him. He needed…he needed…
Before he could think about it, his feet were moving. Poking his head out into the hallway, he found it was clear and began his frantic search for Shiro.
Shiro, it turned out was with the other paladins hanging out in what was deemed ‘The Living Room’. Personally, he didn’t see why it was so special, it was just a couch configuration in an empty area. At least there was a window.
Despite that, the paladins were usually found here, so Keith was going to have to navigate this very carefully, already wanting to tear up in relief at seeing the caregiver.
“Hey, Shiro could I see you for a moment?” Something in his voice must have gave him away, because the black paladin paused in his casual conversation to give him a once over. He must have looked a little rough by the look on the older mans face. Shiro's brow was crinkled in a way that meant he was worried.
Before Keith had time to feel like the worst person in the world, he looked over to where the others had stopped talking.
They were looking.
At him.
Oh god, everyone was looking at him. He could feel their gazes burning into his skin, hot like a pan on the stove . Lance had a quirked eyebrow, Hunk looked a little concerned. Pidge was squinting like they could see through him. Allura gave him a tight smile. (He had no idea where Coran was) They probably knew how gross he was, how pitiful and sad he was to waste all of Shiros time. He could feel his breathing become erratic as he-
“Sure, Keith,” Shiro replied, breaking him out of his spiral and stepping away from the group and into the hallway where they had a little more privacy. “What’s up?”
Keith hesitated, relieved that they were alone, but suddenly feeling shy. He glanced at the floor, feeling the weight of his own vulnerability pressing down on him. “I… I hurt my finger,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. God, that sounded stupid, he shouldn't have come to Shiro with this he was wasting his ti-
“Let me see it,” he said gently. Shiro’s gaze was calculated, clearly expecting a different conversion. His expression softened.
As Shiro reached out, Keith felt a wave of uncertainty wash over him, but, the way Shiro looked at him—full of care and understanding—made something inside him start to shift. The tension he had been holding onto began to loosen as he let Shiro examine his finger.
“Looks like you nicked yourself a little bit,” Shiro said with a frown, taking a closer look at the tiny bead of blood. “That must've been kinda scary, huh?”
Keith nodded slowly, his lower lip trembling as he processed Shiro’s words. The simple act of being seen, really seen, made him feel smaller. He wanted to curl up in Shiro’s arms and let the older man tell him everything was going to be okay.
“Why don’t we go get you cleaned up?” Shiro suggested, reaching out to gently pat Keith’s back. “I have a first aid kit in my room.”
“I… I want…” Keith started, but the words felt jumbled in his mind. All he could think about was how much he needed Shiro’s reassurance. “you help,” he finally managed to say, his voice cracking. Shit, he sounded little, but he couldn't find it in himself to care.
Suddenly, the thought of being cared for felt overwhelming. He didn’t want to be strong or brave anymore; he just wanted to feel safe.
Shiro’s eyes softened even more, and he smiled warmly. “Of course, I will, buddy. You don’t have to worry about a thing. Let’s go to my room and get you cleaned up.”
Keith felt a rush of relief wash over him as he took Shiro’s outstretched hand. The way Shiro held his hand made him feel safe.
Once they reached Shiro's room, the older paladin motioned for Keith to sit on the edge of the bed while he retrieved a first aid kit from the drawer. Keith watched, feeling small and vulnerable, as Shiro carefully opened it, pulling out antiseptic wipes and a fresh Band-Aid.
“Alright, let’s take a look at that finger,” Shiro said, kneeling down in front of him. Keith could feel the urge to suck his thumb creeping in stronger as he watched Shiro's gentle hands move with confidence. The sight of the first aid supplies made his heart race with a mix of embarrassment and comfort.
Keith held out his injured finger, the sting of the cut still fresh in his mind, but now it felt less daunting with Shiro there. “It hurts,” he mumbled, his voice tinged with a childlike whine.
“I know, buddy. But I’m going to make it all better, I promise,” Shiro replied, his tone soothing. He gently cleaned the cut with an antiseptic wipe, and Keith winced slightly at the sting, instinctively bringing his other hand to his mouth.
As Shiro worked, Keith felt the tension in his body melt away, replaced by a warm, fuzzy feeling that spread through him. He glanced at the Band-Aid, a childish desire bubbling up inside him as he contemplated how nice it would be to have a bright, colorful one instead of the plain, adult versions.
Shiro finished cleaning the cut and applied the Band-Aid with gentle precision. “There we go. All better!” he said, a proud smile on his face as he admired his handiwork. “Now you’re all fixed up.”
"Bubba." Keith said, using the name he addressed Shiro by when he was little. "You gotta kiss it better." He insisted, voice muffled by his thumb that was lodged firmly in his mouth.
“Oh silly me.” Shiro grinned. “How could I forget?”
He leaned down with a playful grin, gently pressing his lips to the Band-Aid covering Keith's finger. “Mwah! All better now!” he declared, pulling back with an exaggerated flourish.
Keith giggled, the sound bubbling up from deep within him. The warm, fuzzy feeling expanded in his chest as he watched Shiro's expression light up with joy. It felt good to be taken care of like this. He couldn't remember why he had been so against it earlier.
“I told you this would happen.” Shiro condescended affectionately as he pulled up Keith's sweatpants, finishing up his second diaper change of the day. Keith looked up at Shiro with trusting eyes, his earlier resistance completely dissolved into a content dependence.
Drying his hands of baby powder, he hoisted the little up onto his hip. “There we go,” Shiro murmured, gently patting Keith’s back. “All clean and dry. How’s that feel?”
Keith’s response was a contented sigh. “Good,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by his finger but clear in its satisfaction. He snuggled closer against Shiro, seeking the comfort and reassurance that the older paladin always provided.
“What did we learn?” Shiro asked the baby in question, who was shyly sucking his thumb as he settled into his regression.
“...notta fight head'pace,” Keith lisped out sheepishly, his eyes downcast as he continued to suck his thumb. “M' sorry, Bubba.”
“That’s okay, Peanut,” Shiro replied, gently stroking Keith's hair as he settled him on the bed. “Just remember that holding back your headspace is icky for you. What are we going to do next time we feel small?”
Keith thought for a moment, his brows furrowing in concentration as he considered Shiro’s question, his eyes still averted. He took a deep breath and mumbled, “Let Bubba know. An’... let it happen.”
“Exactly! That’s my good little boy,” Shiro encouraged, leaning in closer. “And if you need a hug or just want to play, you can always ask me, alright?”
“Mhm,” Keith nodded, feeling the warmth of Shiro’s words seep into his chest. The embarrassment from before was far away, replaced by a sense of security. “I like hugs.”
“I know you do, and you can have as many as you want,” Shiro replied, his tone warm and soothing.
“Thanks, Bubba,” he said, his voice muffled but sincere.
Shiro gave him another gentle hug, holding him close as he pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Anytime, kiddo. I’m always here to support you.”