Their Little Beauty (MxMxM+)

Chapter Fifty-One: Little Boy Sniffles and Giggly Tummy Tickles

When the body is put through a lot of stress, especially for an extended period of time, it isn't surprising that it stops working optimally. And Briar's body had certainly been put through a lot- from harsh, frequent exercise and then, well, that evening in the tent. 

Which, as enjoyable as that evening had been (immensely so), it was undeniably tough for the inexperienced submissive. 

The last two days Briar and his lovers spent on the camping trip to Mount Camlin had been just as wonderful as all the others, but there was no doubt that Briar was feeling a little off. Taking into consideration his body aches from the many different positions he'd been put in, the near-constant tensing of his muscles from too much pleasure and then more exploring of the terrain during long treks in the following days, his entire being just felt a little... 'ugh'. 

So, when three days after being home he woke up with a headache worse than any other he'd had before, nose clogged up tight and a throat burning with an insatiable itch he just couldn't scratch, Briar wasn't too surprised he'd fallen sick. But rather than getting up for a glass of water, pain killers and then sleeping some more, he could not help being reminded of his childhood. 

Briar was sick often as a child, which surprised many of his peers. He was active, fit and always on a very restrictive diet- surely, he was the healthiest of them all. But what they didn't take into account was that too much of a good thing truly was not always what was best. Briar's body was worked to the bone, every evening, until he could barely climb the stairs to bed. His stomach curdled at the plates of unseasoned lean meat and boring raw vegetables he was forced to eat, otherwise he would be left to go hungry. And when after a long day of school, club activities and then meeting with his martial arts instructor he was faced with mountains of homework and text books... he would fall sick. Often, and it was terribly stressful on his body. 

He loved movies as they were one of the few normal luxuries he had been allowed, so he had seen how ideal families functioned. A child would get sick, their mother would make hearty soups or porridges, sit by their bedside and watch over them until they felt better. Maybe they would sing a little too, or read a story until the little one drifted away from their painful sickness and into the awaiting arms of dreams. But Briar's family were far above 'common families'; they were perfectionists. 

And being anything less than at his best, made Briar imperfect.

So, as young Briar would lay in bed, coughing until his chest burned and shivering uncontrollably from the chill that settled deep into his bones, no one would come to see him. His father was a businessman always in meetings and his mother was barely home, usually out with her friends on trips or lunch dates. Neither of them could afford getting sick, so Briar was left to his own devices. He would force himself from bed, stumble around the halls until he found extra blankets, then drag them back to his large, lavish room that was so awfully void of warmth. 

No one coddled him, soothed him, or comforted him. No one... no one loved him. Not as a parent should. Not as a child deserved.

Remembering those long nights and years of agonising solitude left Briar craving comfort, coddling and to be taken care of. He was close to tears, laying under the duvet and feeling terribly alone in the empty, massive bed usually shared by his lovers.

Until something made him blink, a sensation almost like a tickle probing his mind. It was the sensation he now knew came alongside his regressions. And when it didn't overwhelm him as he occasionally feared it would, but just rested inside his head and chest comfortably, Briar realised that he had a choice.

To let himself give into the urge, or ignore it.

Jolted out of his thoughts by the opening of the bedroom door, he peeped his head out of the duvet and watched as Devon walked in, carrying a bundle of freshly washed clothes and wearing naught but bright yellow boxers that sat nicely around his hips.