David struggled, out of breath. He held the bar to his shoulder, and slowly lowered it.
“Done!” he said in a breathless voice, mentally adding “finally.” Lifting weights was far from his favorite pastime. However, under the circumstances, it was necessary.
He faced a mirror, seeing his own blue, blond hair and smooth face. He ran a hand down his right shoulder and arm. “Better,” he thought, “but not great.”
He himself didn’t care about what he looked like, and especially not about being muscular. He wasn’t even sure if he could become muscular, at least not in the same way some people at the gym were. However, he also needed to fit in. While the exercise machines now being built certainly made it easier, the growing trend where people worked out regularly for appearance and fitness made things more difficult. He had free weights in his house, and would need to use them later that night as well.
He passed by the front desk, nodding to two staff members at the desk, who nodded back and waved. This may be the last time he came in. He’d been there a few months, longer then he usually stayed at one gym.
As he left, one of the staff members turned to the other.
“You see that guy?”
“Yeah? The quiet one?”
“Yes. He’s been coming here almost every morning for three months.”
“So? He’s dedicated. That’s what I like.”
“Yeah but… I know some people at one of the other gyms in the area, and apparently he did the same thing there before switching to this one, and someone mentioned he was at another place before that.”
“Well… Isn’t it weird he keeps switching? And…”
“Does he LOOK like he’s been working like that for a year?”
David was walking past closed shops on a downtown road. It was still early morning, and if he was lucky, he could get home before more people were out. He hated walking around when it was crowded, but hated the dark even more, so this ended up being the best time to get around. He would have to come out later, he knew- there wasn’t much he could do before anything was open, and he had to get buy- but for something he could do at any point, like attend a gym, it was ideal.
He stopped, his eyes going wide. He was passing by a toy store, one of his favorite spots in town. In the window was a giant brown teddy bear. He stared, pressing his face and hands against the glass. It looked… soo… soft! He loved the material they used for stuffed animals recently. He didn’t know what it was, but he loved just pressing it against his face. One like this he could use as a bed, his full body covered with softness…
He was already pressing on the door. It wouldn’t budge. He looked down at the handle. He pressed again, angrily. He shouted and began kicking the ground. Why wouldn’t it open? He looked at the door again, noticing the sign that said closed. “ERRRR” he said about to pound on the glass, then stopped. He couldn’t do that in public, what would people think if he saw? It was locked, there was nothing he could do, he thought. The thought made him sad, almost tearing. He looked at the door again. He could always come back later and buy it if he thought of it, he reminded himself. Now happy again, he began skipping down the road and smiling.
“Drat,” he said suddenly, noticing his shoelace had come untied. He knelt down to tie it.
“One over the other… DANG!” he said. He spread them out to restart. Sometimes he question if he should just give up and get velcro shoes, but that seemed like it would cause more problems then it solved. One thing he didn’t want was questions about why he was wearing anything deemed childish.
“Why hello there!” a warm, elderly woman’s voice said.
“Are you lost? Do you need help with your shoe laces?”
“Ummmm…” he said, not looking up.
“Let me help you, then you should get on home.”
“Ye…es,” he replied, panicking.
The speaker, a gray woman with glasses, bent down in front of him. David blushed and looked around as she began to lace his shoes. He hoped no one was watching. He knew he should have said no, but he couldn’t find the words, and he really did need the help…
“There, all done! Now you keep practicing and you’ll get it one day!”
“Th…thanks,” he said. He doubted he would, though.
“Now you hurry along, little one.”
David blushed deeper. He remained kneeling and looked down, avoiding eye contact. Hopefully she would move on before she noticed.
“Are you alright? Why aren’t you getting up? Should I call for help? Where are your parents?”
David closed his eyes. “Drat,” he thought. “Well, I’d better get it over with.” He stood up and looked at her.
At first she seemed surprised to find he was as taller then she was, if not by much. She then fixed her glasses, and gasped slightly. Now it was her turn to blush. “Oh… I’m sorry. Please excuse me.” She went walked beside him and left, surprised to find the person she had taken for a child was a full grown adult.
David sighed. It was always worse with the elderly, and especially woman. Having bad eyesight didn’t help either. Anyone looking at him clearly would see him as he appeared- an adult, if with some youthful features. However, they often responded to him different on instinct. Older people with maternal or paternal instincts often felt this the strongest, while younger ones often expected him to play games. Combine that with an inability to seem him properly, and sometimes they just assumed.
He put the incident out of his head and kept walking. Hopefully no one would notice.
He arrived at his house. He called it his house, but it wasn’t exactly a house, and wasn’t really his. He lived in a section of the bottom floors of a large house that had been divided into apartments, which he rented from the owner. However, the other apartment was unoccupied, meaning he could often come in and go without anyone noticing. This, combined with its proximity to downtown, gave him everything he needed- privacy, ease of use without needing to drive, cheap price. Also, the fact that there was often someone else in the building that he knew was a reassuring thought, especially at night.
He unlocked the door and went inside. He walked down the hall, then stopped. There was a sign in front of him saying “lock the door, dummy!” He kicked himself and went back and locked the door. He then went through, past the sign. He stopped again. There was another sign in front of him saying “take of your shoes.” He struggled with the laces, eventually kicking them off. As he stood up there was a third sign reading “and your jacket.” He took it off and through it on his chair, before scolding himself, picking it up and hanging it properly. He had a closet full of half-haphazardly hung clothes, most of which he bought after reading online about what ‘a man should wear’ but never actually put on, finding them too uncomfortable or just not thinking about it.
He walked up a small flight of stairs and into his bathroom. It was a full bathroom, with white paneled walls reminding him not to take electronics and stuffies into the tub and what to do if anything began to flood. He faced a mirror and put a hand on his belt. He closed his eyes. He never enjoyed this part, and he was feeling anxious.
He pulled down his pants then opened his eyes to see a white diaper around his waste. He reached down and felt the plastic, then ticked his toung. Wet. Second day in a row at the gym. Sometimes, if he was calm and not distracted by anything, he could go a few days dry. However, his mind tended to wander, and when it did he would never know. At the gym, when he was straining, it could have happened at any point. He couldn’t always even tell afterwards, and finding it here always made him wonder if anyone in the gym or on the long walk back could tell. He shuddered at the thought.
At least he wasn’t messy, he told himself. He could normally avoid that one, depending on what he ate and how close he was to the bathrooms. It still wasn’t perfect, and he wasn’t getting any better. It annoyed him now, as modern advances meant he could get diapers that looked just like regular underwear for public use, but there was no way they’d do the job well enough. As it was, his control took a lot of effort, and he only did it when he was in public. Even then, he didn’t like it. It felt wrong.
He glanced down. There was another reason it took effort. Under the sink, where he stored his diapers, there was a pile of thicker teddy bear printed ab diapers with a note attached reminding him not to wear them out. The rise of the internet, and with it the availability of abdl clothing, had been like a miracle for him. He struggled a moment, the adorable images calling to him, the softness… and stopped. It already difficult to hide the white diapers, and the few times people had noticed were embarrassing enough. He didn’t need to have to find a way to hide the extra thick padding or risk someone seeing his teddy bear prints.
He took off the wet diaper, thew it out and got in his bath tub. He filled it, cleaned himself, and got out and left the bathroom still naked.
He kept an agenda on the small square table in his kitchen, which he now opened. He used his phone to check the date and matched it. He groaned. The agenda was something he had come up with knowing that if he left himself to his own devices he would never get things done. He modeled it off of examples he had found online, letting them replace the authoritative voice of a someone who could make those decisions. He had work again today, which he despised. Why did people spend so much time doing stuff like that when there was so things to play with? But it was what adults had to do, and for now he had to live as an adult.
He opened he fridge. There were rows of sweets and pastries, along with peanut butter and different jams. There were also microwavable meals, as it was the only form of cooking he could do without causing a problem, and some… other things. Being an adult also meant he had to eat certain things, which he didn’t like. This was something normally someone else should take care of, he thought, someone who knew better and could decide and make him do it… but he was there, so he had to make himself. He grimaced, grabbing a sweet pepper. “One vegetable with every meal,” he reminded himself. He closed his nose, opened his mouth and ate it as quickly as he could. He followed it by drinking water from his tap as fast as he could. He then grabbed a piece of cake and ate it with his hands. He shuddered. Eating healthy was annoying.
He went into his bedroom. It was large with baby blue walls and a crib that had detachable rails in case someone was visiting. He had hung pictures of video game and comic book characters on each wall, as he had learned adults had art, and most of the room was filled with piles of toys and old clothes. He opened his closet and struggled to ignore his preferred side, with he soft, cute clothing he preferred. Changes in fashion meant that he could sometimes wear one peice pajamas, and it seemed soon rompers would be acceptable. He loved it when things liked that happened. However, neither was appropriate for work.
He began by laying out a fresh diaper, making sure it was plain white rather then printed. He poured a liberal amount of powder on it, taped it on, and got up. He then pulled a pair of boxers over it, covering the edge and ensuring a tear in his pants wouldn’t be a disaster while muffling the crinkling sound. Next was an undershirt. He put on soft green pants and the required collared shirt, which was blue and striped with white. He found this worked the best- long shirt hung over his waistline, and the undershirt was tucked into his pants in case anything rode up.
He then walked back into the bathroom. He sighed. He reached under the sink, and took out the make up.
He began with small lines. Tiny changes, so that if it washed off no one would notice, but enough to make a difference. He had tried more drastic changes, but that had ended in disaster after a sudden rain storm. He put lines under his eyes, emphasizing cheekbones, and making his face seem narrower. He then took a comb to his unruly golden hair and used cream to hold it in place. The result was barely noticeable, but subtly added years to his perceived age.
He scowled and stomped his foot. IT. WASN"T. FAIR. He hated doing it. Why couldn’t he just got out normally? He pictured his face- cherubic was the right word. He could probably play Cupid if called upon, except he didn’t know if Cupid would mind. He looked at his waiste, and angrily pulled up the pants which had slid down, revealing the top edge of his diaper despite all his efforts. He’d be dressed the part too. Why couldn’t he just go out as is? He had to dress in all these bizarre clothes, doing everything he could to hide the rest of them, to change his face… He began to tear again.
He breathed. Throwing temper tantrums wasn’t a way to convince anyone he was mature, and the tears would rinse away the make up. People had already began to question things about him, which was never good. He knew he would have to move soon, which almost made him cry again. It was necessary, though. He had to keep moving, and to hide some things. It was one thing if people began to think he hadn’t aged in ten years. It was another all together if they realized he hadn’t aged in the last twelve thousand.