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Owen pressed closer, drinking baba happily. Owen like when Dada treat him like this. Baba sweet like cookie; Owen like baba. Dada ran hand through hair gently; murmur, “there, that better?” Owen nod tinily. “You like this bottle, don’t you, little one?” Owen nod again, pawing Dada’s chest. Baba very good.
Dada swipe under Owen’s eye. “You upset, love?”
“Li’l bi’,” Owen mutter around baba. “C’y goo’?” Eyes felt moist.
“Crying is good for you, yes,” Dada say, taking baba an’ pressing Owen closer to chest. “Cry all you need.”
Owen cry. No know why. “Why sad?” Owen ask, tiny words muffled. Dada pet Owen.
“I don’t know, love. Sometimes you just need it. That’s okay.”
“Sad kitty.” Owen sniffle. Owen sad cat. “Raowwww…” Owen paw Dada.
Dada pet again, rubbing Owen’s back. Owen want more; want purr. “There you go… You like that, little kitty?” Owen nod, press closer. “Good. Now rest. I’ll still be here later.”
Owen calm, going mush an’ letting haze his mind. This good. Tiny kitty eepy.
———
Louis laughed as he held the toy up, watching as Owen tried to paw at it and reach it. He easily could if he just sat up, but he didn’t seem to want to. Louis was alright with that, of course, Owen was pretty clearly in his kitty space; he wasn’t even fully stretching his fingers out. But still, it was funny. Not in a bad way, in a super cute and endearing way.
“Raouuuu…” he complained, looking at the toy longingly. “Wannnnn’…” Louis huffed, lowering his arm and handing Owen the toy. Owen happily sniffled, shaking it in his hands and watching the little bits inside float around.
Louis honestly wasn’t sure where the toy came from. It was some kind of shaker, like a mini lava lamp. It had little plastic fish in it, though, and made “swishy swishy sounds” (as Owen had so aptly put it), so it contented Owen, which in turn contented Louis. As long as his kitty of a boyfriend was happy, he couldn’t care less.
“Rauu…” Owen vocalised after a moment, looking up at Louis. The caregiver tilted his head in return, giving a questioning hum. “Hnnnnn,” Owen returned.
“Do you need something, Owen?” Louis asked. After a moment, Owen nodded. His eyes were bleary again, but he didn’t seem particularly upset, so Louis didn’t comment. “What is it, kitty?” Was what he asked instead, threading his hand through Owen’s hair.
Owen looked down again, staring into nothingness. Louis just let him, continuing to scratch lightly at Owen’s scalp, rubbing his back. If he needed to think, he needed to think. Owen never really spoke about it, but Louis was able to tell that his brain seemed slower when he was like this, all his movements sluggish and reactions delayed.
“Wan’ Ba’win’,” Owen said eventually, looking back up from where he’d had his face smushed in Louis’ chest. “Raooo…” he hummed, kneading lightly at Louis’ pants.
Louis thought for a moment, trying to work out what Owen meant. “Batwing? Your plushie?” Owen nodded slowly, kneading a bit harder once.
“Y’h,” he agreed, pushing himself up to face his caregiver. “Ba’win’.”
“Do you know where he is?” Owen took a second to nod.
“‘S in couch room,” he answered. “I c’n help.”
Louis tilted his head. “Do you want to?” Owen nodded. He rubbed his eyes.
“I help Dada,” he proclaimed, nodding. He lay back down again, though, grumbling as he stretched. Louis huffed a laugh.
As he ran a hand through Owen’s hair again, he teased him lightly. “We have to actually get up to get the toy, little one.” Owen just grumbled.
“Don’ w’na. N’ an’more…” he muttered. Louis just huffed. That was probably to be expected, honestly. As long as Owen didn’t get too upset over missing his plush, it was fairly harmless. “Have baba?”
Louis stretched over to the nightstand, grabbing the bottle. It still had some of Owen’s drink in it, since he hadn’t finished it earlier. Louis hadn’t wanted him drinking it while he was crying and then choking. But now that he was calmer, Louis was sure the kitty would appreciate a warm drink.
“Sit up, baby.” Louis helped guide Owen to sit up, shifting them both to be sitting against the headboard. He gently set the nib of the bottle to Owen’s lips, letting him drink it himself. Louis set his free hand between his boyfriend’s shoulderblades, gently massaging. “That better?”
Owen just nodded, continuing to drink.