Sweeter Than Sweet

Marilyn gave a wicked smile , his bleach white teeth exposed. It was odd, the way he tried to be so unattractive, but refused to fuck with his mouth.

"Brian, how are you, boy?" Ozzy grinned, stepping up to hug the younger man. Trent stood behind him shyly, scared to let his feminine side show too much.

"Hey, Osbourne, I'm doing just fine. Try to be quiet, though, my boy is sleeping."

Oz nodded with a smile, "Of course."

When Trent stepped up, a soft blush caressed his cheeks when Manson hugged him with a friendly kiss on the cheek.

"It's good to see you, Trent." Marilyn smiled warmly when he pulled back. Trent rubbed the back of his neck, and smiled softly.

"Good to see you, too, Brian," he replied meekly, with a little sparkle in his eyes.

When the couple stepped past Manson and came into view of John and Tim, Ozzy smirked, knowing what was in store, while Trent smiled sweetly, nervous. Maynard and Robert entered the room. The Tool frontman had his arm wrapped around Robert's waist. Then the two blondes on the couch began to panic worse. They knew this was going to be big. But would they be able to escape? There were no obvious escape routes, and they were suddenly surrounded by five men that were bigger than them. Escape was futile.

Ozzy, Trent, Maynard and Robert had all been told what the bad blondes had done. They thought it was childish and that they would be treated as they acted. However, to make this more fun, the men decided to play along with this just being a little get-together for now. They took up the remaining couch and chair space, talking and joking quietly with one another with Tim and John mostly quiet. Suddenly, a little spark clicked inside of Trent, and he felt the strongest urge to coo and gush over the sleeping baby in the play pen. Pogo looked so sweet. His bottom was raised in the air with his legs drawn under him. His thickly padded bottom was clearly on display because the blanket had fallen during his sleepy squirming. He clutched his teddy bear in one hand, and sucked his pacifier softly. His romper hood was up, giving him the incredibly adorable image of a kitten.

"He's so precious," Trent cooed softly, a gentle smile on his lips.

Ozzy smiled gently, and wrapped his arm around the younger singer's shoulders, pulling him gently onto his chest. Trent gazed adoringly upon the sleeping keyboardist, putting his hand over Ozzy's. He really did want a baby, like the sleeping angel in the play pen. Maybe John would be like him if he got used to the idea.

Robert and Maynard sat beside Tim, smirking and playfully kissing one another. Tim was growing uncomfortable, and was beginning to fidget in his seat. His eyes were becoming shifty, and he began to devise a plan. He thought maybe he would be able to escape if he was pretending to be sick. It was risky, because Ozzy and Manson were good people-readers. They knew when someone was lying. But if he just played his cards right, everything would be good.

John, however, was sitting beside Ozzy and Trent, planning to just slip out the back door and leave the explanation for later. He had no game plan, leaving him a perfect little open target for Ozzy and Trent.

Tim stood to his feet, and cleared his throat, this drew all attention as he blushed bright red. But he leaned over anyhow to tell Marilyn that he needed to use the restroom. The singer gladly nodded, knowing good and well Tim knew where the bathroom was. When the Swede left, Maynard and Robert cuddled close to one another, and smirked, Tim wouldn't be using the bathroom any time soon once they were through with him. Trent and Ozzy exchanged endearing looks, and kissed, knowing that their soon-to-be-baby boy was sitting right next to them.

Suddenly, Pogo stirred in his sleep, whimpering a little. As he flipped onto his back, a little sob escaped him as his pretty blue eyes opened. He must have been having a bad dream, because as soon as he awoke, he calmed a little. He began to slowly suck his paci again, and was thoroughly surprised and a little shy to the fact that six men were gazing upon him. He blushed bright red, and sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He still clutched his teddy in one hand.

"Aw, he's so sweet," Trent cooed softly. Pogo looked up at him, his eyes wide. He was surprised because someone hadn't mocked him yet. He squeezed his teddy and held it tightly to his chest. He felt small and helpless.

Marilyn decided it would make Trent's day to hold Pogo. So he smiled softly, "Trent, could you go and get him for me? I have to make him a bottle."

Trent's eyes lit up, "Really? Are you sure?"

Marilyn simply nodded, smiling softly, "Of course." He rose, and left the room with a wink.

Trent was incredibly nervous. What if he wasn't meant to be a 'mommy' figure? He took a deep, shaking breath, and rose to his feet right after Manson had. Pogo looked so frightened. He hoped he hadn't scared him. He advanced toward the play pen, seeing Pogo's pretty eyes widen. He let a gentle smile surface.

"Hi, little one," he cooed softly.

Pogo wiggled his fingers, suckling his pacifer shly.

"I think someone needs hugs, hm?" The singer cooed in that same gentle voice. Pogo was unsure of how to react. He looked to his left, then his right, before nodding weakly. The singer leaned over the playpen, and lifted Pogo with one arm under his bottom, and the other around his waist. He was thrilled to feel Pogo relax in his grasp.

"You sure are a cute little boy," Trent could use no other voice that a sweet loving tone.

Pogo squeaked and smiled a little behind his paci. He liked to be told he was cute. Trent bounced him softly.

"Aw, I knew you could smile," he teased sweetly. Pogo giggled, his smile getting bigger. Trent gushed, walking back to the couch which held Ozzy and John. "You are just so precious," he chuckled, letting little Pogo play with his hair. He sat beside Oz, and settled Pogo on his lap. The little blonde squealed when Trent's black locks slipped right through his fingers. Then he clapped, and melted Trent's heart. Now he not only wanted a regressed boy of his own, he needed one.

Marilyn returned minutes later with a bottle of formula, and a warm smile. He held the bottle out to Trent, instead of taking his boy. The singer gave Marilyn an unsure look, as if asking for approval. The black-haired Anti-Christ simply gestured for him to take it. Trent did so reluctantly, and simply reduced to mush at the sight of Pogo making grabby hands at his bottle.

Slowly, and carefully, he lay the little blonde over his lap, being sure he was comfortable. Pogo pouted when his paci was removed, but squealed in delight when the bottle replaced it. Trent smiled gently down at the little bundle of joy nursing on his lap. He was so excited! Maybe he could be a good Mommy!

"Aren't you sweet? I bet you feel better now, don't you?" The singer talked in a hushed voice. Babies didn't like loud noise. Pogo's eyes were sparkling as he suckled the warm fluid. He was casually playing with his teddy, squeezing it and huffing gently behind his bottle.

Tim entered the room just then, he was holding his stomach, and he seemed to be in a deal of pain. Robert and Maynard exchanged glanced of concern. "Tim, what's the matter? Are you okay?" Robert's voice was full of suspicion and concern.

The Swede glanced up, "I think I should head home. I have a headache, and I feel a little dizzy."

Ozzy cut in, "Maybe you're not fit to drive, if that's the case. You should rest." He was analyzing the bassist, seeing he was obviously lying.

"Exactly," Marilyn stated, nodding, "That's the wise thing to do." He was just catching on to the little game his blonde bassist was playing, and he decided to play along.

It seemed that the front men were more intutive than some. "We can't have you hurting yourself," Maynard inquired in an overly-concerned tone, "Now can we?"

Tim acquired a panicked look in his eyes. "No, that's alright."

Just to check up on them, Marilyn glanced at Trent and Pogo. The little keyboardist was now over the singer's shoulder being burped. Once he did do as was expected, Trent pulled him back and kissed his cheek. "Good boy!" He cooed. Pogo blushed and giggled, kissing Trent's cheek. This earned the heart-melting coos from everyone in the room beside Tim and John.

"Brian, your boy is absolutely adorable," said Robert in a Mommy-way.

Marilyn grinned proudly, "Thank you. I know."

Tim scoffed, pretending to cough. "I must be going."

Realizing the attempt at escape, Maynard rose up from his spot on the couch, leaving Robert with a little smirk on his face. The Tool singer put his hand to Tim's forehead, and clicked his tongue. He was going to initiate the fun, it seemed. "You are in no condition to leave right now. You have high fever."

Tim scowled, aware of his own lie. "I'm fine, really. I just need a little rest."

Maynard has a way of growing in height when he wants to. He braced his shoulders, and crossed his arms. "Than the wise move is to sleep here."

"I don't live here!"

Pogo was watching this little quarall, sucking on his little paci as he playfully bounced his teddy on Trent's lap. He squeaked when he was sat down between the singer's legs. He wanted to roam. So he began crawling and exploring. His sweet little mind found fun in tugging John's pant leg. He was startled when Maynard began to talk sternly.

"You are not leaving this house until your fever has lowered. It's too dangerous for you to drive home."

"John can take me," Tim replied.

Maynard narrowed his eyes. "You brought your own car."

"Stop being such an asshole, and let me go!" Tim barked back finally. He sounded like a child, and that only added fuel to the fire. He made a big mistake.

Maynard pursed his lips, and brought a firm palm down on Tim's tight little ass. He held him tightly by his arm, and scolded him, "Bad boy. Don't cuss," he growled.

Tim's eyes were shocked and wide. John gaped, not yet realizing Pogo's tiny tugs at his pant leg. Marilyn crossed one leg over the other and smirked knowingly. Trent and Oz were filling with anticipation, realizing how close they were to having their baby, if Maynard and Robert were claiming their's now. Robert let his husband handle the situation for now. When comfort was needed, he would be there. He was getting a kick out of watching his man play Daddy anyhow.

"You jackass!" Tim gasped, covering his ass, "Get the fuck away from me! Guys, fucking help me!"

Everyone stayed silent, but Robert rose, and gently touched Tim's arm. "It's okay. Maynard is just trying to keep you safe," he explained softly.

Tim snapped, "Get away from me! I'm out of here, you're all insane! First you regress Pogo, probably against his will, now you're after me! Fuck you!"

Robert's strict side flashed, and he harshly swatted Tim's thigh, shaking his finger as he spoke, "No, no. Bad boy."

The Swede was growing desperate. His eyes were shifty as he backed away. Tears welled up in his eyes. He knew he shouldn't have teased Pogo in the first place! He knew why he was being treated this way. Robert saw the fear in his eyes, and softened a little, feeling his heart wrench. "Don't be scared, Tim," he cooed. When he turned to Maynard, he had a loving expression. "Don't be too mean to him, honey. He's sick." With those words, he winked, and a little smirk twitched in the corner of his lips.

Maynard brushed his lips across Robert's. "Sorry, love, I got carried away."

John was planning his escape. All he needed to do was work up the courage to actually stand and escape this. He couldn't see how being in a diaper would be fun. It was probably uncomfortable and irritating. He would never get a date again!

Tim, however, was not quiet at all, as a matter of fact, he was loud and childish.

"I'm not a baby!" He cried.

Robert and Maynard turned to the boy, their eyes sparking with parental concern. They smirked, sending shivers down Tim's spine. Tears slipped down his cheeks as he slowly backed into a corner. He was scared of Maynard in a sense. The man could be a scary fucker. But the couple wasn't attempting to scare him. They were moving to actually lead him to the couch. But the blonde panicked, and slid down the corner, whimpering. All eyes were on him. And they all were parental.

Pogo, however, was not even paying attention to them all. He was paying attention to the fun piece of fabric clutched in his hand as he playfully tugged it over and over. John was noticing this. Even though he wanted to get up and help Tim, he was too prideful to do so. Instead, he became side tracked by the continuous tugging at his pants. By the tenth tug, John exploded.

"STOP TUGGING MY PANTS, YOU BRAT!"

Pogo's big eyes filled to the brim with tears, and his bottom lip began to quiver gently. Tiny whimpers expelled from his throat, as he slowly shrunk away. He dropped his head, and rubbed his eyes with his fists. Manson had him in his arms in an instant, glaring daggers at John. He sat back down in his place on the couch, cuddling his scared little angel on his lap in an attempt to stop his crying. Trent and Ozzy knew this was their time to discipline their new boy. But of course, Ozzy was Daddy. He stood first, his form cast a shadow over the young guitarist, causing John to tremble.

Maynard helped Tim to his feet with a gentle touch. And that's where the fun began.

Who are the real brats, now?