A Small Detour (Patreon Commission for Renaspikes)

TAGS: Slice of Life, Domestic, Shrinking/Micro

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Honestly, it had been a long time coming.

As he finished typing in the command prompt and Spikes was finished being shrunk to a diminutive size, Tim couldn’t help but think they should’ve done that months prior. All the constant trickery and deception, all the growing and ascensions and universal resets and all the endless pleasure overdrives, it was… well, it wasn’t bad, per se, but after a while, a cat wanted to have a cat nap, and the Rena made it impossible for that to happen whenever he was around.

Spikes was an endless font of horny energy, and while Tim was often more than happy to play into that, there came a time when all they wanted to do was have some rest and not have to worry about whether or not the house would survive, or if the constants ruling over reality would be rewritten to better fit whatever mood the Renamon was in. Sometimes, the lynx just felt like lazing about, having an off day where they did absolutely fuck-all of worth, and Spikes was, apparently, incapable of accepting this.

Not unwilling though. Spikes was nothing if not a caring, loving partner; he was just… horny. Endlessly, interminably, incorrigibly horny, in a way that couldn’t be understood, would never be measured, and stood defiant as one of the great mysteries of the couple’s time. Maybe it was his species, maybe it was him in particular, maybe it was the endless amount of modifications done to his digivice; whatever the case may be, the Rena’s libido was one that never ran dry, and no matter how often the lynx found themselves gasping for breath and practically pleading to be given five minutes to recover, they always ended up bent over and being ploughed into before they could do anything about it.

Well, not that day. Spikes had been bugging them for what felt like hours to test out the “new feature” he’d installed in the digivice, as if it wasn’t just the same old “make muscle bigger” option the lynx had seen a million times before. The same enthusiasm, the same giddy, almost manic smile, the same hopping in place, the same near-childish glee at being able to be horny again… but not that day. The cat wanted to be lazy, they were going to be lazy, and for once, feline instincts were going to win, and in the sleaziest, most underhanded way possible.

Tim, of course, accepted the device when handed it. They, of course, smiled along, nodded too, and made sure Spikes was convinced that his partner was about to make him big, muscular, hunky, and impossibly strong. And they, of course, immediately began looking for a way to revert the function on the digivice itself.

A breach of trust, maybe, but there were some lines the lynx was unwilling to cross, and they expected others to do the same. In Spikes’ case, it was less him needing to be taught a lesson, and more Tim’s own catty streak showing itself, when the thought occurred to them that, rather than simply saying no and shutting off any avenue for fun, they should instead be subversive. And what better way to turn the tables on someone who practically made a living being huge than to make them tiny instead?

Pocket-sized was the word (or words, depending one one’s opinion of the much-ignored hyphen) that was most prominent in Tim’s head: pocket-sized. Small enough that they could bend down, scoop the Rena up, and place him gently inside one of their pockets, to carry him around like a cute little squeaky toy. Hell, maybe they’d even actually squeak, depending on what the shrinking did to his vocal cords; not a priority, but certainly an hilarious mental image.

Spikes, for his part, was entirely unaware of anything being out of the ordinary until after he felt the first commands being executed upon his form, at which point it was too late to do anything about it. With his eyes opened wide, the Renamon had a moment of panic before they noticed Tim’s sly grin, the expression of fear turning into a rolling of the eyes and a comically excessive pout as his body was reduced to a smaller and smaller size with each passing second.

He took it surprisingly well, for someone so used to being big and buff enough to rip doors off walls without even noticing. Admittedly, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away whenever Tim tried to make eye contact made for some truly spectacularly childish moments, but the lynx couldn’t blame him.. Though they could absolutely make the most out of it.

Once the transformation was complete, Spikes, lucky enough to have hopped onto a table before he became too small to even reach the chairs, had been miniaturized to just about six inches tall, his proportions maintained as if he were merely been placed underneath a shrink ray. Preliminary analysis from the digivice yielded no health abnormalities, no danger to the Renamon’s well-being, and absolutely no impending threats to their safety… and, as such, Tim promptly bent down, grabbed their mate with one hand, and unceremoniously shoved him into one of their shirt pockets.

Throughout, Spikes said and did nothing. He certainly glared with the intensity of a million supernovae, but allowed himself to be captured and jailed in that most embarrassing of prisons: a simple pocket. Tim had to refrain from cackling at how absurd the whole situation was, especially when they managed to get a finger close enough to pat Spikes on the head without the mini-Rena swiping at it indignantly. In the end though, size did matter, and the relative giant almost smushed their tiny companion into the bottom of their impromptu cell, after which the lynx received what they presumed was a playful nibble on the tip of their finger.

In the time it took for Spikes to clamber back up to a standing position, Tim had decided upon something: they were going to go out grocery shopping. They didn’t need to; the pantry was well-stocked, the fridge was full, and they’d just done a water run, so really, it was just a waste of time and money ahead of when said waste had to happen because Spikes wanted his damned donuts and didn’t have them in the house. But Spikes was in Tim’s pocket now, and the feline found this to be exceedingly funny, enough to justify getting off their ass and into some proper clothes, just so they could go out to town and bring the Renamon along.

Well, they said clothes, more like slapping on some sweatpants and calling it a day. No one was going to mind the button-shirt half-casual look in the local supermarket; hell, Tim had gone there half-naked once and no one gave them a second glance. All they needed was to make themselves perfectly smooth down below and everyone just assumed they were wearing some sort of novelty jeans that looked suspiciously like a pair of nude legs.

Still, it was cold, so the lynx remembered to pack a thick handkerchief so that Spikes would have something to cover himself with. It was a testament to the Rena’s stubbornness that they still hadn’t spoken, utterly refusing to produce even a single sound beyond the occasional irritated grunt. Simultaneously, it was a test of Tim’s own limits, seeing as the lynx really wanted to make fun of the guy, but knew better than to push their luck; Spikes might genuinely take offense.

Plus, at no point did the Renamon actually try to escape. He could’ve scrambled out of the pocket, could’ve cut his way through, he could even have beamed himself back into the Digivice and forgotten about the whole ordeal, changing himself back to normal with the snap of his fingers. As a last resort, he could’ve simply asked to be put back to normal, and Tim would’ve absolutely done it without a moment’s hesitation… but he didn’t.

Instead, he crossed his arms and pouted, then kept acting like he didn’t want the shrinking to happen instead of doing anything to stop it. But Tim knew better; they’d seen that look before, stamped on the Renamon’s face whenever he was put on the spot and didn’t know how to react. The same look that crossed him when he was accidentally given a pair of tits and seriously didn’t know whether or not to lose his mind over it, or that one time when he was turned into a different species altogether and had to pretend like he wasn’t enjoying it.

The expression of a man who wanted to say that he was having a good time, but was forced into a role where at least part of it meant he couldn’t be so honest. A role where he had to pretend to be there against his will, where he had to go through the motions and keep up the pretense that he was terribly offended, awfully so, and demanded satisfaction from whatever great affront the giant had inflicted upon him. But ultimately, when it came down to it, he still smirked whenever he knew Tim wasn’t looking, still took the opportunity to peek out the top of the pocket to observe the world through this fresh perspective.

It was an interesting experience for someone so used to towering over whatever happened to be around him. From having a barrel chest hard enough to steel around to being the size of a large novelty pen and shoved inside a place most people forgot they had on them, it was at the very least a new way of seeing the world around him. He’d never appreciated the full size of his home, nor had he noticed the little details that were so easy to gloss over when one was larger: those cracks on the stairs that formed an odd, face-like pattern, the way the paint splotches on the door to the guest room were still there even after multiple clean-ups, how enormous the floor grates looked when truly considered.

Even the lynx! Spikes being the taller one between the two had always given him a certain sense of physical superiority, like at any point he could just extend his hand and pat the cat on the head, ruffling their fur and flattening their ears, prompting a purr or two; now trapped in a pocket, all he could think about was how much he wanted to feel what it was like to lose himself in their fur, to cling on their coat and lose himself in the warmth of it. It was enough to get a blush out of him… as well as another reaction he was happy he was too small to be visible.

Once the lynx was done getting dressed though, the one place left was the wide world outside. It was a daunting thought, and an experience Spikes wasn’t sure he was ready for… not just for the sensory shock either. He knew people around the neighbourhood, and they knew him too; the last thing he needed was to become the local laughingstock after people came up with embarrassing nicknames that sounded like they were directed at his manhood half the time. Call it silly, but Spikes cared enough that he kept his head below the brim of the pocket itself, hoping not to be seen when Tim closed the front door behind them and slowly made his way down the street towards the local grocery store.

At no point did the lynx make any concerted effort to pull him up from where he was. Indeed, with how Tim was acting, Spikes could be forgiven for thinking his mate forgot he was even in there at all; that is, apart from the little things, from the small displays of dubious innocent, like adjusting their pocket when they’d never do it normally, or scratching themselves in a way that would bring their fingers dangerously close to where the Rena was hiding away. Still, nothing as overt as pulling Spikes up; that much he had to do on his own.

Once he did, he found he was no longer outside at all. Maybe his perception of time was warped, or perhaps he’d been so busy snuggling against a handkerchief to avoid being seen that he missed the fact that the grocery store wasn’t that far out. Still, poking up from his hiding spot to see the long lines of shelves, his ears suddenly assaulted by the beeping of cash registers and the background chatter of a hundred plus people buying stuff they may not even need… it was familiar. Familiar enough that he felt his whole body relaxing, though not to the point where he’d be doing anything more than poking the very top of his head out from his little hole.

Spying things from that perspective was fun, in a way Spikes never expected it to be. Everything and everyone looked so radically different that it was almost comical; his perspective was so akin to that of a spy cam that, for a moment, the Rena genuinely expected to be used in some kind of sting operation, before remembering the chain of events that had led him there. And still, throughout it all, Tim refused to acknowledge any of this, carrying on as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Because, Spikes realised, nothing was. Not really, at least; it hadn’t been the first time that Tim had been out shopping with him when he was of a far different size than usual: it’s just that, this time around, the difference was inverted. Of course the lynx seemed thoroughly unfazed by any of it, they’d been through far worse; at least this way, Spikes wasn’t toppling shelves whenever he took a step too far in any direction other than directly forward! He was pocket-sized now… and that was fun, sort of.

Still took Spikes a few minutes of consideration before he poked his head out properly, but when he did, he had Tim’s smile there, beaming down at him, and he himself couldn’t help but reply in the same manner. No words were exchanged, but none needed to be: as absurd as the situation was, the two of them had been in far stranger scenarios before; the Renamon being small enough to fit where he was barely ranked in the top ten most bizarre situations the couple had been involved in, so why not just relax and enjoy what they were having there?

The process itself was fully reversible, so it wasn’t as if they had made any commitments there. And even if it weren’t, Spikes could still… well, grow in the conventional manner. Hell, push came to shove, both of them could snap their fingers and reset things back to where they were before the shrinking; really, their repertoire was wide enough that Spikes couldn’t help but wonder why’d been so worried.

Everything was perfectly fine.