Scott has a binge eating disorder. Jack tries his best.
TW: Eating disorder, Throwing up, Age regression, Food
"Scottie, what do you want for dinner?" Jack asked. Scott shrugged, digging his hand back in the chip bag.
"I could go pick up Chinese or something?" Jack offered.
"Sure," Scott agreed. Jack grabbed his keys and kissed his lover goodbye.
Once Jack had left, the teal haired man put his chips away, going into the bathroom.
He sat on the floor by the toilet and shoved his fingers to the back of the throat.
He felt the familiar warm liquid making its way up his throat, letting out choked sounds.
No matter how many times he does this, he still hates the feeling, tearing up as the contents of his day spill into the toilet in front of him. He sits there for a while after. Staring at the ceiling, holding back his sobs.
He swears this will be the last time. Just like last time. And the time before that. And before that. It's just an endless cycle. He knows he won't ever stop but he tells himself he will.
No matter how many times Jack has found him in this exact position. Helped him up and calmed him down. Reassures him that he isn't angry, that everything is ok. Then Scott regresses for a bit.
"Scottie! I'm home," Jack calls.
Has it really been that long?
Jack finds the couch empty, but sees the bathroom closed. They don't close the bathroom unless it's occupied.
"Scottie? You ok in there?" Jack asks from outside the door. He enters before a response.
"I'm sorry," Scott cries out when the door opens.
"Oh Scott," Jack sighs, sitting next to his boyfriend. Scott was leaning against the tub, legs spread in front of him, arms wrapped around himself tightly.
"I was doing so well, but I messed it all up again," Scott sobbed.
"Oh baby.. you didn't mess anything up, I promise. It's hard, I know, it's so, so hard baby. We can try again, ok?"
"I wanna feel better Jackie," Scott whined, burying his face in Jack's chest.
"You will, honey, I promise. You feeling small?" Jack asked, hoping to help Scott drop.
"Mhms," Scott nodded into Jack's soft shirt.
"There's my little boy," Jack smiled softly.
"I sowwy Dada, pease no be mad," Scott whined.
"Look at me baby," Scott looked up, "Dada could never be mad at you, ok? Never ever ever," Jack promised, looking into Scott's blue eyes.
"Otay.. cuddles?" Scott pleaded with wide eyes.
"Of course baby, are you tired honey?" Jack asked, pulling Scott back against his chest. Scott nodded silently.
"Then let's go get some jammies and go night night," Jack offers. He stands up, holding Scott on his hip. He flushes the toilet and puts the food in the fridge for later.
He takes Scott to the bedroom. He digs around in the bottom drawer of Scott's dresser, his little gear drawer. He fishes out a onsie, diaper, a pacifier, and his favorite stuffy, a light blue bunny.
"Bun Bun," Scott mutters, making grabby hands at the toy. Jack hands it over, laying Scott on the bed and changing him. The pair lay down, holding each other close.
"Wuv ou Dada," Scott whispered.
"I love you too baby, night night," Jack answered.
"Ni ni," Scott whispered before drifting off to sleep.
When they woke up, Scott was still little, which was rare.
"Mornin Scott," Jack mumbled as he rubbed his face, sitting up.
"Monin Dada!" Scott giggled. Jack looked to the man laying next to him in surprise.
"You still feeling small today?" Jack asked as he stretched.
"Mhm!" Scott clapped.
"Alright baby, you want some breakfast?" Scott nodded. "Alright, let's go put on some TV and I'll get you some yogurt," Jack said.
"Yay!" Scott cheered, grabbing onto Jack.