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Itchy, Itchy!

Summary:

I made it an allergic reaction on whim, hope that's okay!

Notes:

Work Text:

“Alright, baby. Your mom sent over this sweater that your aunt knitted for you as a sort of joint birthday-Christmas present,” Papa told Mushroom, pulling the sweater over the Baby’s head.

Mushroom whined and tugged at the sleeves, not liking the itchy material against his skin. He bit at a sleeve, trying to take the sweater off, but Papa gently pulled the material out of his mouth.

“Ah, ah, baby. Sleeves are germy. We don’t chew on them,” he chided, giving the Baby a paci instead. “Here, have your chicken paci. Much better, see?”

Mushroom whined again, flapping his hands to try to get the sweater off, but it wasn’t budging, in fact, it was only making his skin more itchy and weird.

“Are you hungry, little one? Is that what this is?”

Mushroom thought about it and nodded. He was pretty hungry and maybe he just had to let his body get used to the feel of the sweater. It was a nice color, either light pink or light blue, he couldn’t tell, but it was pretty and for the most part felt pretty soft, just made his skin itchy. Papa carried him downstairs and set him in his highchair, then went to grab the Baby some breakfast. He made sausage patties and heated up yesterday’s pancakes. He set the plate down in front of the Baby and started to feed him small bites. Jimmy was feeding Ducky and Chris was helping Froggy eat. Daddy was still in Texas visiting family and taking time for himself.

When breakfast was done, they went to the playroom and Froggy grabbed Mr. Panda and curled in the corner with him. He’d been taking Daddy’s leave the hardest of them all. He’d cried so much at the airport and even tried to go with the man, despite efforts to pry him away. Dream finally distracted him with an Adventure Time game on his tablet and the promise that Sapnap would be back soon and the other was able to leave for his flight without any interruptions.

Even with the promise that he’d be back, Froggy still missed his Daddy. They all left him to his own devices for the most part, making sure he wasn’t getting hurt, but he wanted the comfort of his Daddy and nothing came quite close to that.

Mushroom tried not to focus on that, instead picking up his mermaid and making her swim around the room. But that just made his arms start to itch, so instead he crawled over to Ducky, who was playing with some toy cars. Mushroom babbled sadly and scratched at his arms and tummy with the car. It made him feel better, but Ducky looked at him weirdly.

“Mushwoom, is you otay?” the Little asked, stopping his game of Autopia.

“I’y,” Mushroom whined, scratching himself more.

His sweater rode up and both the Littles saw red bumps on his skin, similar to when he’d accidentally sit in a wet diaper for too long. But this was on his tummy and arms, not his bum and privates.

“Papa!” Ducky cried, catching the attention of the Caregiver.

Dream rushed into the Playroom. “What’s wrong, love?”

Ducky pointed to his brother. “Mushwoom gots wrash.”

The Baby sniffled miserably. “I’y,” he whined again, lifting the sweater to show Papa.

The Caregiver gasped and quickly removed the sweater, throwing it to the side. He picked up the Little and carried him to the kitchen, setting him on the counter so he could rifle through the medicine cabinet. He grabbed the Benadryl and gave the right dosage to Mushroom, helping him swallow the pill carefully. When the Baby’s eyes drooped, Dream carried him upstairs and put him on the changing table, grabbing out some rash cream to help and spreading it over Mushroom’s back, arms, and tummy just to help. Then Dream laid Mushroom down in his crib and decided to call George’s mom. She picked up on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Hi. Mrs. Davidson? It’s Clay. I was just calling to ask if George is allergic to anything.”

“Hmm…I’m not quite sure. He’s got seasonal allergies, sure, but I think the only thing I can think of him being allergic to is either hay or wool. We went to a sheep petting zoo one time and he had just an awful reaction to it, bless his soul. Why do you ask?”

“I think he had an allergic reaction to the sweater his aunt knit him. He got a pretty bad rash on his stomach, back, and arms. He took some Benadryl, but I just wanted to see, cause he hasn’t mentioned any allergies.”

Dream specifically left out the part about rash cream, because that would spark questions about why five men in their twenties had rash cream just lying around. The only family who knew about their CGL relationship was Karl’s, because his mom had figured it out a while ago. Quackity’s family didn’t pay enough attention to really notice, Dream’s family had some semblance of knowledge, but didn’t really care, George’s family was too far away to know and Sapnap’s family wasn’t involved enough to understand.

“Oh, my. Can I talk to him? Maybe see how he’s feeling?”

“He’s sleeping right now. The Benadryl really knocked him out. But I can call you back when he wakes up if you want.”

“Yeah. Just have him call me when he wakes. Thank you for letting me know, Clay. You’re a very good friend.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Davidson. We’ll talk to you later.”

“Buh-bye now.”

“Bye.” Dream hung up and looked at the sleeping Baby, whose rash was clearing up. He was still sleeping, so Dream popped a paci into his mouth and tucked Chicken under his arm.

When the Little woke up, his rash and itchiness were gone and he felt a lot better. He whined and turned over, seeing his Papa through the bars of his crib. The man smiled at him and carefully picked him up.

“Hi, baby. How are you feeling?” the man asked, bouncing him slightly.

Mushroom nodded and let out a happy noise, snuggling into Papa’s chest.

“That’s good, sweetheart. Do you want cuddles, milk, and a movie?”

Mushroom nodded again and Papa ruffled his hair, then stood up, heading downstairs. He started a bottle for the Baby, then set him down in front of the TV and turned on Surf’s Up . The Baby giggled and clapped, loving the penguins on screen. While he was distracted, Dream finished making the angel milk, stirring in sugar and vanilla and adding a dash of cinnamon, just like Mushroom liked.

When he walked back into the family room, the Baby giggled, reaching for him. Dream picked him up and rested him on his lap, carefully positioning Mushroom so he could feed him his bottle. Mushroom drank it slowly, savoring the taste. He wrapped his own hands around the bottle and Dream let go, but Mushroom whined, so he kept feeding the Baby until the milk was gone, then burped him gently. They stayed like that, watching any types of penguin-related movies for the rest of the day, only breaking when George called his mom.