The young man that toddled out of the bedroom, hair mussed up and eyes nearly swollen shut from what the older man could only guess were tears, was not what Quinn had been expecting. And yet, within mere moments of observing him and the way Jesse's lips twitched softly, he began to understand the connection that had been growing between the two. He also wondered if, perhaps, they were more alike than expected. 

They were both very adorable, for a start.  

"Hello Briar. My name is Quinn, I'm friends with Jesse. Do you mind if I stay here for a while?".

Briar stepped back warily, a fist clenched in the large shirt he wore and slinked his way around the back of a sofa and to a corner of the room to get away from the stranger. Quinn understood his wariness, finding no offense in the action and instead offered a small smile in reassurance.

"Well, it seems Briar is feeling a bit overwhelmed right now so let's give him some space. Stephen, you were telling me about your trip?".

The exhausted looking man blinked with a frown as though to say, "No I wasn't".

"Take a hint, idiot", Quinn retorted with narrowed eyes and a false smile.

"Ah, yes. My work. Well, my last show was in New York but...".

And so for the next hour he and Jesse spoke with the fashion designer who easily fell into relaxed conversation. But Quinn was always keeping an eye on the boy from the corner of his eye, reminding his little fox to stop staring whenever Briar started moving as it made the boy freeze then scurry back to the corner. 

Eventually, Briar ended up perched on the end of the sofa, looking around the very modern and eccentric living room with confused eyes. Quinn was happy to leave him like that while Jesse pestered Stephen in the kitchen for an early lunch, but when the Little started to get upset the Caregiver in him could no longer just observe.

"Hey, it's alright sweetheart. Can you tell me why you're so upset?".

The boy blinked, tears escaping down the sides of his cheeks along with small, panicked sounds from his chest, and Quinn's heart arrested within his chest.

"L-lost" he cried, clutching a pillow to his chest and rocking back and forth.

"You're lost?" The Caregiver asked and the Little nodded, eyes flickering around frantically, physically large but looking so very, very small.

"Oh, it's alright sweetheart. Do you remember Stephen?".

"... the o-old man?".

I'll keep that a secret.

"Yes, the old man. That's Stephen. This is his house and since he is your friend, that means that you aren't lost, little one. Just somewhere different than home".

Briar sniffed, wiped his nose on the back of his arm sleeve then looked down with a frown.

"Friend?".

"When you are Big Briar, yes, he is your friend".

"But I not big, I'm little!" He giggled, flapping his arms as though to emphasise his little-ness through his over-sized shirt.

"Exactly. Do you think you could tell me how little you are right now?".

Briar stood up and looked around, far less anxious than before, then suddenly bolted across the room, picking up something before darting towards Quinn. Then he stopped a few steps away, seemingly back to defensive and too wary to come closer.

"Ooh, what did you find? Is it something fun?".

"Hmhm" the boy hummed, absentmindedly fidgeting with the object while watching the older man.

"Do you think you could show me? I'd really love to see what it is" he coaxed with an excited smile and clasped hands. 

Slowly, perhaps nearly ten minutes of patient waiting later, the boy stood between Quinn's knees and held out his cupped hands, inside which was a small figurine of a tv character the Caregiver didn't recognise.

"Oh wow, this is very cool. Do you like it?".

"Hmhm! It really little, like me!".

Oh, so this is what he thought I meant when I asked how little he was- height. Never mind, maybe he will tell me his Little Age later. Although, Pinkie did say that Briar didn't really acknowledge his little side so maybe he isn't aware of it...

"Yes sweetheart, you are very little right now. Have you ever been this small before?" He asked while using the figurine to hop around the sofa, much to the boy's fascination. 

"No. Bad man doesn't like it" the boy shrugged, sitting on one of Quinn's legs. "So I promise to be big and he promise he won't get angry... but he does. Always angry with me".

When he started to get upset again Quinn reached over the arm of the sofa and grabbed his bag, bringing it to rest in his and Briar's lap.

"You know, I was told that there was going to be a really good little boy here today so I brought some things for him. Do you know where he might be?".

Little Briar turned his head around the room, frowning and peering around edges as though he could see past corners. Supressing a laugh, Quinn poked him on the belly until he giggled and squirmed.

"I think his name begins with, 'B' and ends with, 'riar'. Any ideas, little one?".

This was a game as well as a test to see just how young the boy might've regressed, since his behaviour seemed younger at times than others. Quinn was not wanting to get too deep into analysing the boy at this moment, he was not his Daddy after all, but he could not help but be curious.

"B...riar. Briar... Briar! That's me! That's my name!".

"Good boy! So, since you've been so good, do you want to see what's inside my bag?".

"Hmhm, I do, I do!".

"Ah-ah" Quinn lightly said and immediately the boy let go of the zip. "What do you say, sweetheart?".

"Please can I?".

"Good boy, of course you can".

And after little Briar opened the bag and began giggling, absolutely overjoyed at the assortment of toys and activities inside, Quinn felt a warmth in his chest. It had been a long while since he had played with and taken care of a Little, so when the boy grabbed his hand and tugged him to play together on the rug with a mini train set and puzzle board, he couldn't- and didn't want to- stop a part of himself becoming attached.

Together they roleplayed with a train conductor and passenger, completed a mini jigsaw with very large pieces and after Briar started to show signs of being overwhelmed by the amount of toys he suddenly had access to, they played hide and seek. Quinn had considered getting Stephen and Jessie to come back into the room but seeing the boy finally playing and acting like a proper, relaxed Little, it could've sent him back into his cautious shell. Thankfully, all it took was a text message from Quinn and the promise of pizza for lunch to keep Jesse from barging into the room. 

A tug on his t-shirt sleeve brought Quinn back from his thoughts and to the floor, where the two were sitting on a pile of pillows and watching an animated movie on his phone.

"Yes, Briar?".

"Quinny, you be my friend? We friends now?".

He looked into those lovely eyes, beautiful and innocent, and smiled.

"Of course, little one. I'd love to be your friend".

And as the little one sneaked his way onto Quinn's lap, where he fell asleep curled up into a ball with his head cradled against the larger mans chest, heavily protected and warm, Quinn loosely wrapped his arms around the little treasure. 

It would seem, he thought while watching the rhythmic inflation and deflation of Briar's chest, Pinkie isn't the only one acting strange for this boy. Fuck, what a mess... Dev needs to meet him.