It was a calm, warm Monday evening in the suburban neighborhood where Kieran, a 10-year-old Quilava, lived with his father, Chris, a Furret. His day had been mostly uneventful - the usual reluctance to return to school after the weekend, and a fairly average day at said school, but now, just before sunset, an hour or so after his father had returned from work, the Furret had informed Kieran of an unwanted, if not entirely unexpected, new requirement. "Come on, you have t-to be kidding..." the Quilava complained, adamantly shaking his head, even as his father's expression appeared very serious indeed... What kind of problem would cause something like this? In this case, it was a simple one: soaked bedsheets, for - as of this morning - the 9th time this month. To Kieran's embarrassment, he'd been wetting the bed recently, and none of the usual ways to prevent it had worked: going to the bathroom before bed, avoiding any liquids for an hour before then, even setting an alarm at a ridiculous hour to go to the bathroom then. As often as not, the Quilava would wake up to either his normal morning alarm or the newer, much earlier one, and feel the unpleasant sensation of cold wetness. His father hadn't taken it badly at all, reassuring him it was nothing to be ashamed about, from the first time it happened 3 weeks ago, until the most recent occurrence today. However, it seems that he had gotten a bit tired of all the extra laundry these incidents produce, and thus decided to take perfectly reasonable measures to avoid it; this brings us back to when Kieran had protested against his father's idea, specifically, a box of nighttime pullups that he had apparently brought while out today, for the Quilava to wear to bed. "Nope, not kidding in the slightest," Chris told his son firmly, before assuming a gentler tone, and continuing, "I know it's not your fault, and that this might feel embarrassing at first, but it'll make it easier to deal with it, for both of us." Now blushing, and not being convinced by the explanation, Kieran promptly shot back, flustered, "B-But I'm sure it'll stop soon! I don't need those!" He wasn't quite able to meet the Furret's eyes, embarrassed at having to assure him that he didn't need pullups, as if he were still a Cyndaquil just out of potty training. Kieran felt his father's paw gently lift his chin back up to look at him... "When the bedwetting wears off, I'll be glad, but until it does, you're wearing pullups to bed," Chris restated patiently, before adding, "c'mon, Kiki... if not for your own convenience, at least for me?" The Quilava had recently started to feel that the old nickname was too childish, but something about it, and the tone, still got him to reconsider... knowing that this was something he couldn't avoid, anyway, Kieran reluctantly accepted: "Fine, I'll... I'll wear them..." "That's my boy," Chris said, as he reached over again to ruffle the fur on Kieran's head. "Now," he suggested, "I'd recommend putting one on now, even if it's not your bedtime for another few hours, so you can get used to it before-" "N-no way, I'm not putting them on until I have to," the Quilava interrupted, blushing again; he immediately felt sorry for cutting off his father's suggestion, knowing that he meant well, but there was simply no way he was letting himself get embarrassed even further than he was now. Chris just sighed, "Well, if you insist," then adding, as he held out the box of pullups, "Leave them in your room in the meantime, would you?" Kieran did oblige to this request, though he appeared to be rather grumpy about the situation, and climbed up the stairs with pawsteps slightly more forceful than usual... the Furret sighs again, but decides not to bother his son about it, figuring that the Fire-type was somewhat justified in being embarrassed about it, after all, and instead goes about his evening as usual. Once upstairs and in his room, Kieran unceremoniously dumped the box of pullups into his closet, and without turning, closed the door and walked backwards to flop onto his bed in frustration. He dully noticed that the mattress was devoid of sheets again, and a look sideways confirmed that his father had left a clean set for him to put on it; he eventually got up to do so, and once done with that, headed over to his desk. He knew it was probably a better idea to finish the homework he had left when his father called him downstairs, but, not really in the mood to continue after what had just happened, he instead picked up his 3DS, opened it to the nearly horizontal position with the familiar, satisfying series of two snaps from the hinges, and jumped right into some Pilotwings Resort, trying and succeeding in forgetting the bedwetting and pullups, at least for a little while... ---------------- Much later, after playing for about 40 minutes, finishing his homework, and having dinner - mac-n-cheese, Kieran's favorite, which he figured was an intentional attempt from his father to smooth things over, though he didn't have the heart to complain - the time was 9:41 PM, and Kieran had been brushing his teeth for 6 minutes straight. Even though he had no strict bedtime, just the 9:30 "wind-down time" that his father had implemented instead, the Quilava was still only allowed to do things related to getting ready for bed after said time, and unfortunately for him, there weren't very many options to delay having to put on a pullup. Eventually, internally sighing, as he decides to just get it over with, Kieran finally spits out the completely dissolved toothpaste, puts down his toothbrush, and heads back to his room, though he's interrupted by his father. "I suppose you haven't put on a pullup yet?" Chris asks lightly, and upon Kieran bashfully shaking his head in response, prompts, "Well, go on... and when you're finished, come out so I can check, too." Swallowing the several complaints that he wanted to give in response to that last sentence, the Quilava manages to just nod before walking into his room and closing the door. After another few moments of hesitation, he goes over to open his closet, takes out the box of pullups, and opens that as well... trying to make this as quick as possible, he grabs and practically throws one of the pullups out, shoves the box back into the closet, and pulls off his pants and briefs before picking up the pullup. At this point, he hesitates again, blushing as his gaze aimlessly looks over the design - a Chandelure featured on the front, with bluish flames as wetness indicators - before shaking his head as if to clear something from it, and sliding the pullup on, then his pants, figuring that there was no point in wearing his usual underwear as well between the two garments. Heading back to the door, blushing more at the thought of his father seeing him in these, he tentatively opens it, looking down at the floor to try and hide his face. Chris tugs at the waistline of Kieran's pants just enough to clearly see the waistband of the pullup, and tells him, "Well, you're good to go, bud~" before pulling the pants back up, then asking, "Did you try and use the bathroom already?" The Fire-type just responds, "uh-huh," face still relatively pink, but glad that the check had been relatively discreet, even if it was just the two of them. "Alright, then... sweet dreams, Kieran," the Furret says, as he leaves and heads back downstairs for now. Kieran, meanwhile, turns off the light, and gets into bed; as he's doing so, now that he's not thinking of how the pullup looks, he's acutely aware of the loud rustling sound it generates with each of his movements, and the bit of bulk it adds between his hind legs. Eventually, after a good 30 minutes of trying to deal with the dilemma - frustratingly, none of his usual positions are too comfortable for long, yet shifting around would generate an equally annoying noise - he decided to sleep the 'standard' way, with his back to the mattress, assuming that it could at least help keep the pullup from leaking, and manages to fall asleep in a few minutes more. ---------------- At 2 AM, the sound of the reminder alarm pierced a rather fun dream Kieran was having, to his annoyance; deciding that what's done is done, he slapped the alarm clock with slightly more force than necessary, and not feeling any wetness, got out of bed. This elicited another crinkle from his pullup, which the Quilava had completely forgotten about until now, and he grumbled a bit upon being reminded of it, but proceeded to the bathroom as usual, turning the light on, and keeping his right eye closed while relieving his (oddly close to empty) bladder. He then used that eye to navigate back to his room, happening to flop back to the same position as before, and falling back asleep in seconds. ---------------- The warm morning sunlight was seeping through the gaps in the shutters, and a few bird species twittering away outside, by the time the Fire-type woke up to his 7 AM alarm; he sat up, feeling decently well-rested, and thought that he had avoided wetting the bed... That is, until another shift caused the pullup, which he had managed to forget again, to give an audible squish. Groaning in disappointment, the Quilava considered just staying where he was a while longer, but decides against it, and gets up, choosing a fresh set of clothes to change into for today while he's changing out of the soaked pullup. Thankfully, as Kieran headed to the bathroom, his father seemed to be downstairs; he wasn't really in the mood to answer as to whether or not he ended up wetting his pullup, not this soon after waking up, anyway. Once inside the bathroom, he pulled off all his clothes, tore through the sides of the pullup, briefly noting the faded wetness indicators, and after holding it by the back and dropping it into the trash bin, he starts cleaning himself up with some wet wipes, which he already had been using for some of the smaller nighttime accidents ('and I used to think the baby wipes were embarrassing enough...' he remarks to himself), and finishing with that quickly, changes into the new set of clothes. He brings the old set to the laundry hamper, and goes back to his room to do the same for the set of briefs he had forgotten there yesterday, before heading downstairs to have breakfast. Kieran found his father already at the table, who, upon noticing the Quilava, greeted him with a "Good morning, Kieran! Slept well?" After a nod from Kieran, who knows exactly what the next question will be, he follows up with, "And... did you wake up dry?" "N-no..." the Fire-type mumbled in reply; that question never really got less embarrassing to answer, even after a few weeks. The Furret continues, "The pullups didn't leak or anything, right? And... were they easier to change out of than the usual?" Kieran responds with, "No, they didn't," and admits, "and... yes, they were... a little more convenient." Chris raised an eyebrow, looking amused, and Kieran, blushing, reluctantly corrected, "Well... maybe more than a little..." "I'm glad to hear it!" Chris tells him, and seems to be intending to say something else about the matter, before he gets interrupted... "Can we just... not talk about it more than we have to?" the Fire-type requests grumpily, as he goes over to the refrigerator to grab some milk for his cereal. Chris obliges, and apparently not having wanted to talk about anything else, heads off to prepare for work. Kieran, meanwhile, grabs a box of his favorite cereal, pours generous portions of it and then milk into a bowl, and has breakfast, before leaving the bowl in the sink, and leaving the room himself, to get ready for another day of school. ---------------- Over the next few days, Kieran would end up wetting the bed even more often than before, as if his bladder had realized it had a safety net and was all to willing to put it to full use. This caused no small amount of embarrassment to the Quilava... But not for very long. By the end of the week, only once having woken up with a dry pullup on Wednesday, Kieran found that, strangely... he didn't mind wearing the crinkly undergarments as much as he did at first. The designs actually weren't that embarrassing, and he felt almost irrationally gratified when he happened to pull out a Typhlosion-themed pullup from the box on Thursday. Waking up with only one wet thing to change out of was a plus, and, if he was being honest with himself, the things were just pretty darn comfy, somehow not diminishing in that aspect even when they were used. He didn't _like_ the pullups, of course, he was just fine with them... or so he told himself, and his dad. That would be just ridiculous... wouldn't it? Even Chris suspected that Kieran might like them more than he admits, when the latter decided on Friday to put on a pullup well before bedtime, which he had so vehemently opposed on the first day... This culminated with a rather surprising request on Saturday night. The father and son had spent the whole morning out and about, only stopping after they had lunch at their shared favorite buffet nearby, and then proceeded to play all sorts of board games and video games at home for most of the afternoon. Kieran caught himself - multiple times - thinking that pullups would have been quite convenient to have on during this day, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. In the evening, the Quilava went ahead and took a few hours to finish most of the homework he had been assigned over the weekend, and helped him cook the one meal that the Fire-type liked even more than mac-n-cheese, when he got the chance to have it: his dad's particular recipe for lasagna, which he claimed went three generations back, and which could only accurately be described as a taste of Arceus' realm itself. After a later-than-usual dinner, due to the long (but very much worth it!) preparation, Kieran got an idea that he felt was strange, but it seemed more appealing by the minute, and after working up the courage to ask about it for a while, he managed to turn towards his dad, who was resting next to him on the living room couch, and ask, blushing heavily, "C-could you... uh... h-help me get a pullup on b-before bed tonight?" Chris glances over curiously, not having expected anything like this to happen this soon, with the Quilava's initial reaction, but nods, smiling. "Sure, Kiki... feel like doing it now, or a bit later?" "Uh... n-now would be nice," Kieran responds, trying to keep his excitement out of his tone and an absurdly happy smile from forming on his face, as he gets up and starts heading towards his room, with his dad right behind him. Once in that room, the Quilava, now almost failing to contain that smile, lays down on his bed. The Furret takes the random approach to picking a pullup from the box (which is now left outside the closet), and funnily enough, ends up getting one with a Cyndaquil design... he brings this pullup over to where Kieran is waiting, gently pulls off the Fire-type's pants and briefs, and then slides on the pullup. He starts to ease the pants back on as well, but stops and asks, "...do you want to keep these on? It'll be a pretty warm night..." Kieran, who had been blushing brightly since he saw the pullup design, hesitates before responding with a shake of his head, indicating he'll go without them, and Chris just nods in acknowledgement, leaving to take both the briefs and the pants to the laundry room... he wonders about this developing interest of his son's, but decides not to ask about it just yet. The Quilava, meanwhile, gets down from his bed, and tentatively heads to the bathroom to finish getting ready to go to sleep, feeling rather exposed in the hallway with his pullup visible, but also kind of... happy? carefree? His thoughts are churning around this topic wildly, as he finishes brushing his teeth, uses the toilet, and heads back to his room, exchanging a "good night" with his dad before going to bed, finding a comfortable position much faster now. ---------------- "GGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!" Kieran, even as he let out his scream, sat bolt upright on his bed, so fast that he got vertigo; after a few moments, the disorientation wore off, but some remnant of the fear didn't do so completely. "An apocalypse? t-that's new..." the Quilava whispered to himself, right before hearing a rapidly-approaching set of pawsteps. "Are you okay, Kiki?" Chris asked as soon as he turned the corner into the Fire-type's room, looking disheveled, but with any possible complaint overridden by concern. Kieran didn't protest as his dad clicked on his bedside lamp, and went to pull him into a hug. "I'm... f-fine... just had a n-nightmare..." The Furret softly asked, "Do you mind sharing what it was about?" "Well... it was k-kind of strange..." Kieran starts. "There was a huge asteroid that no one could d-detect until minutes before it hit the planet... you hadn't gotten home f-from work when the news showed that, and y-you just had enough time to arrive and tell me you loved me before the sky t-turned red, and the planet... e-exploded..." The Fire-type was trembling more by the end of the retelling, as if saying it out loud was an invitation for the fear to set back in. Chris reassured him, "Don't worry, I'm sure nothing like that could happen for real," though he did hug his son a bit closer. Kieran nods. "I-I know that... but nightmares a-are good at making unrealistic situations s-seem scary, you know?" The Furret replies with a soft chuckle, "Indeed they are..." The two stayed like that for a while longer, Kieran leaning into the hugs and back rubs until he finally calmed down, and noticed the lack of a now-familiar sensation. "Hey... I'm still dry..." the Quilava remarked, smiling. Chris told him, "That's great! I'm guessing you do need to go pretty badly, though?" Kieran quickly nods in response, though another idea even sillier than the last has taken hold in his mind, and it seemed to show on his face, because his dad prompted, "Is there something else on your mind? It's okay to tell me, I won't judge..." The Quilava tried to ignore the temptation to speak the idea on his mind, but after a few moments, nods again, taking a deep breath before asking, "C-can I... use the pullup? O-on purpose, I mean?" His dad blinked in surprise, before having to stifle a laugh; he manages to nod and tell the flustered Fire-type, "Well... if you want to, then go ahead!" He also offers, "I'll change you after you're done, too~" Kieran, with that embarrassed-but-happy grin appearing on his face, simply says "a-alright," before laying back and trying to relax... eventually, a combination of deep breathing, patience, and some gentle head rubs from Chris help the Quilava loosen up enough for his bladder to let go. 'This... this is the first time I've done this in purpose on years,' he thinks to himself, as he feels the soft trickle of urine entering his pullup, and the surprisingly nice feeling of warmth, neither of which he ever been awake to notice until now; after a good 30 seconds, though it feels like longer, his bladder is empty, and the pullup isn't anywhere close to leaking. "That's something I didn't think I'd ever see you doafter you evolved," Chris chuckles, eliciting a blush and a bit of a giggle from Kieran, before he gets up and leaves the room for a moment to retrieve the wet wipes. Once he returns, he picks out another pullup - this one themed around a Flareon - and sets it down next to his son, as he notes, "We'll talk about this a bit more in the morning... not now, though," to which Kieran responds with a nod. The Furret went ahead and tore both sides of the soggy pullup, setting it aside, getting his son cleaned up rather efficiently, and then sliding the fresh pullup on, before momentarily leaving again to dispose of the used one. "T-thanks, Dad," the Quilava tells him, face quite pink again. "You're welcome, and good night, kiddo," Chris replies, starting to leave the room one last time, but stopping to listen to another request from Kieran... "Uh... can I... sleep with you for the rest of the night?" "Sure!" The Furret, with a smile, reached over to turn the lamp off, and led the Quilava, with a series of noticeable rustles and crinkles, to his own room, where the two 'mons tucked themselves in together. "G'night, Dad..." "Good night, Kiki~" And with that, they contently fell silent, and drifted back into sound sleep until the morning.