A/N: The song used is "You Know I Will" by Lucas Grabeel, off of the "Fox and the Hound 2" soundtrack. Onward!
"Hey, is he eighteen?" Horace asked, as always, upon serving Brian and Stewie their drinks.
"Horace, the drinking age is 21," Brian replied, as per usual, and took a sip of his martini.
"Oh," said Horace, leaving.
Stewie looked suspiciously at Brian. "Dog, why has this been presented to me? You know very well that I do not drink. And may I remind you that you, yourself, said you only needed 'a quick drink'."
"Ah, I figured you deserved a treat," said Brian, trying to appear casual, though beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. "Come on, just one won't hurt."
"No. I refuse," said Stewie childishly, and he crossed his arms and pouted, refusing to look at the drink.
"C'mon," said Brian, elbowing him gently. "You know you want to…"
Stewie sighed. "Oh, fine, if it will make you shut up," he said, picking up his glass. He shot a dark look at Brian. "But only one." And he raised his glass, proposing a toast. "To Seth MacFarlane. I have absolutely no idea who he is, but people keep mentioning him when they talk to me … so he must be very classy." With that, Stewie raised the glass to his lips and drank.
Brian went to do the same, but then realized he wouldn't be able to interrogate Stewie if he himself was drunk. He made to fake drinking it – perhaps even toss it over his shoulder – but Stewie lowered his glass and glared at him. "Well, Brian? If I have to, you have to. Now drink."
Brian sighed in resignation and swallowed his drink with a gulp.
Four hours, seventeen minutes, and twenty-two martinis later
"I'll stand between you and your darkest fears … you know I will," Stewie sang, wobbling unsteadily on the table and almost knocking over his seventh glass.
Brian wiped his eyes. He loved this song. "I'll be the shoulder for your fallen tears … you know I will," he chorused, joining in.
"I'll be behind you till you're in the clear … you know I will! Yeah, yeah!" Stewie finished, to raucous applause from the rest of the bar, who had all gathered around the table to watch the two of them perform their duet. Brian gave one last "Woo!" and the two of them bowed; however, drunk as they were, they promptly wobbled unsteadily and crashed to the floor in a heap. Somehow, during the fall, Stewie ended up on top of Brian.
As the rest of the bar went back to their normal activities, Stewie raised his head and looked down at the dog below him. "My God, you're hot, aren't you?" he said woozily, apparently not recognizing his friend.
"I … uh … I dunno," said Brian, patting his friend awkwardly on the back. "I guess I am." How was it that whenever he and Stewie got drunk, they wound up singing together, only for it to end really badly? "Am I?"
"Well of course you are," said Stewie, snuggling into Brian's fur happily. "And you are also wuzzy and farm. Uh, I mean, fazzy and wurm. Or, uh –"
"Fuzzy and warm. Got it," Brian said, content with ruffling Stewie's hair. Though he didn't seem to recognize Brian, Brian recognized him, probably because he had more experience in drinking than Stewie did.
"Hey…" Stewie raised his head and looked up at Brian again, cross-eyed. "I don't … I don't know you, but could I … could I tell you …" he giggled uncharacteristically, "a secret?"
"Uh …" Even though he was drunk, Brian was still nervous. "Sure."
"Ah, good!" said Stewie happily, almost falling off of Brian. "Well. There's this … there's this guy I know, his name is Brian. And do you know what?"
"W…what?" asked Brian unsteadily, fearing the worst.
Stewie giggled and leaned close to Brian's ear. "He is seriously …" he hiccupped, "…he is seriously sexy."
Brian closed his eyes and grimaced. Yup, this was what he had been expecting, all right. "So … so does that mean you have a crush on him?" the dog asked, dreading the answer.
"Well of course I do!" said Stewie, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Look at him, he's gorgeous! I've totally been lusting after him. Hopefully it's not too obvious, though…"
"Not … not obvious at all," said Brian, his drunken mind telling him to sound reassuring. "Go on…"
"The thing is," continued Stewie, tracing patterns on the palm of his hand, "I don't think he likes me back. And do you know why?" He giggled and leaned in again, whispering, "'Cause he loves Lois!"
Brian rolled his eyes. "Shut up…"
"No, no no no no no, let me finish," said Stewie pompously, standing up on Brian's stomach; he was so light that this didn't affect Brian, even in his drunken state. "What I was going to say was, I'm going to change him. I'm going to make him see that I … that I am sooooo much better than Lois."
"That's your plan, huh?" said Brian, a nasty feeling growing in his stomach (a feeling having almost nothing to do with the fact that Stewie was standing on it). "Sounds … it sounds good."
"Of course it is! All of my plans are good. It's only a matter of time before he … before he …" Stewie wobbled unsteadily, then fell back over onto Brian, and began snoring gently.
Brian grimaced. "Come on, let's get you home…" he whispered, and stood up, carefully holding Stewie in both arms. The dog stumbled a bit, spun around, fell on his rear a couple of times, and finally realized that neither he nor Stewie were in any fit condition to drive. So he headed outside and, with a grunt, hoisted Stewie into the car and leaned the seat back, doing the same for himself. The two of them were camping out tonight.
"Mm, Brian, that feels nice…" came a murmur from the dozing Stewie, and he rolled over in his sleep, snuggling against Brian again. Brian tried to push him away but failed, and eventually decided that it was best to just let him be. Slowly he wrapped Stewie in a hug, and began to drift off to sleep, breathing deeply.
Brian sighed. Tomorrow morning would be a nightmare.