Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Joey's fine, until he isn't.

Suddenly he's crying, sobbing his fucking heart out and he doesn't even know why.

But Shawn's there, and Shawn always knows what to do.

"Hey, you're ok," Shawn says gently.

Joey doesn't seem to hear him, too preoccupied with himself.

But Shawn knows what to do, knows exactly what Joey needs.

Shawn caresses Joey's cheek with one hand, slips the pacifier into Joey's mouth with the other.

Joey instantly feels himself calming, feels his worries washing away. He's slipping.

"There you go," Shawn says softly, wiping the tears from Joey's face.

Shawn always knows exactly what Joey needs, even when he refuses to ask for it.

"I think you need a nap, little one."

Joey just blinks up at Shawn with big, wet eyes. He's already gone.

"Come on, lay down."

Shawn guides Joey to lay down, covers him with the soft blanket. Joey's out the moment his head hits the pillow. Shawn expected as much.

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"Do you have it?" Joey asks.

Shawn knows what he's talking about.

"Are you asking for it?" Shawn asks.

Joey nods.

Shawn's glad. Joey's never outright asked for it before.

Shawn pulls the pacifier out of his pocket. He makes sure to always have it, just in case Joey needs it.

Shawn pushes the hair out of Joey's face, pops the pacifier in his mouth.

Joey relaxes almost instantly, the rubber in his mouth soothing him in a way that nothing else can.

He can relax now, Shawn will take care of him.

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Joey isn't sure why he buys it, doesn't even know why he's in that section of the store in the first place.

He's throwing it in the cart with the rest of the groceries without consciously making the decision to take it off the shelf.

He walks on, goes over the mental grocery list in his head, knows there's something he's forgetting.

He should really start writing this shit down.

Paper towels? Milk? Laundry detergent?

Whatever. He'll just come back later.

He goes to the checkout line, drums his fingers on the cart as he not so patiently waits his turn.

He tosses it on the conveyor belt with the rest of the groceries, ignores the cashier's sidelong glance at him as she scans it.

He pays, throws his shit in the trunk and gets the fuck out of there.

He thinks about it on the way home, thinks about how he was drawn to it like a fucking magnet. He's not sure why.

When he gets home he brings all of the bags inside in one trip, doesn't care that his arms go numb under the weight.

He leaves it for last, gets everything else put away before he lets himself look at it.

Then he's pulling it out of the bag, holding the little package in his hands.

The black pacifier stares at him from behind the plastic, practically screams his name.

He doesn't know why he bought it, he's not a fucking baby.

He feels dumb for suddenly wanting it so badly.

He wants to cry.

He drops the pacifier on the counter and goes in the other room.

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Shawn can tell Joey's slipping, can tell he's about a minute from being fully regressed.

And it's not a problem, he just wishes that Joey would communicate his needs before they got to the point of his needs forcing themselves to be known. Before they got to the point of him regressing uncontrollably because he needed time in little space that badly.

He can tell Joey's fighting it, but they both know it's a losing battle.

He pushes the pacifier in Joey's mouth, forces him to regress and sink comfortably into little space before he even knows what's happening.

Later, once the pacifier is safely stored away in Shawn’s pocket, Shawn will lecture Joey about expressing his needs, tell him to use his words like a big boy. Joey will roll his eyes and promise that next time will be different, next time he’ll ask for what he needs before he’s crying and incoherent.

They both know he’s lying.

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He left the room for one minute, literally one minute. Went to grab something from the kitchen, doesn't even remember what because his heart just about stops when he goes back in his bedroom where he left Shawn alone for that one minute.

Shawn's got it in his hand. The pacifier.

Joey realizes he must've left it in his bed, where Shawn could see.

He'd had the worst dream ever last night, woke up feeling like he was in the middle of a panic attack. Wanted to cry like a baby but the tears wouldn't come out. And at some point his panicked brain remembered the pacifier in the drawer, thought it might help.

And the thing is, it did. The rubber in his mouth made his brain quiet, his breathing calm, made his heart stop pounding so loudly in his ears. He slept a lot better after that, better than he has in weeks.

In the morning he'd shoved it under his pillow, wanted to forget that he was a giant stupid baby that couldn't control himself. Wanted to forget that he needed it, that he wanted it, that last night wasn't the first time, that it didn't make it out of the package and into the drawer by itself. And now Shawn has it. Now Shawn knows.

Joey wants to say a million things, wants to explain, that it's purely a comfort thing, that he's not crazy and it's not a weird sex thing, but the words get stuck in his throat.

Shawn seems to understand, always seems to understand Joey better than he does himself. Knows what he needs even when he doesn’t.

“This is yours?” Shawn phrases it like a question, but they both know the answer.

Joey nods. He feels like he's lost the ability to string words together, to speak.

“Does it help you?”

Joey nods. He hates it, but it does, it helps a lot.

“Do you want it right now?”

Joey nods again before his brain catches up. But he wants it, he really fucking does.

“Well, c’mere then,” Shawn says, like it's so fucking simple. And Joey's moving towards him before he can think about it. He trusts him, trusts him more than anyone he's ever known.

Shawn pops the pacifier in Joey's mouth and it's so much better than the few times he's done it himself, he doesn't feel dumb or ashamed, he feels safe and cared for, feels himself slipping away. He's not sure where to, but he doesn't have it in him to fight it, whatever it is, as it washes over him and wraps around him like a cocoon.

“That's better, isn't it?” Shawn coos, and Joey likes the gentle sound of his voice, wants to melt into it. “You already look more relaxed.”

He's completely gone by the time Shawn tucks him in, brain blissfully quiet, his only focus the warm blankets and the soothing sensation of the rubber in his mouth.