Let's get physical, physical

~Three months later~

Quagmire sat up from his bed, running a hand through his hair. Behind him, Meg was sprawled out, quietly breathing. He reached over and pulled the sheet up over her and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. It had taken a while, at least by Quagmire's standards, for Meg to convince him to let her stay the night. The first time they had made sure that she had a viable alibi, even though he doubted Peter or Lois would be following up on it, and in proof of this she had stayed over several nights, this being her third night in a row, with nary a peep from her parents.

He had maintained his friendship with Peter through it all, paying attention to see if Peter would complain about Meg being difficult or insubordinate, but in actuality he started expressing relief at her lack of attitude recently.

"I don't know what the hell happened, but whatever it is I like it." He had drunkenly declared one day. Quagmire's gut reaction was to crack a joke about Meg finally getting laid, after which he bit his tongue and waited, but no one had seemed to notice. For once he was grateful of the reputation he had built for himself, and that any lascivious jokes or suggestions would thusly be ignored.

Quagmire stretched and stood from the bed and made his way to the bathroom. After closing the door and relieving himself, he turned on the shower faucet and shed his robe. The warm water felt nice running over his scalp and down his back. He ran a hand over his chest, feeling the slight bruises and teeth marks that Meg had left behind last night. She had begun to get more adventurous, which was something he liked, but he did have a bruise on his left buttock that was being a particularly stubborn healer.

The bathroom door creaked open and he peered around the door to the shower stall. Meg was standing behind the door, holding the bedsheet to her seductively.

"What are you doing?" He asked salaciously, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, Quagmire. I'm such a dirty girl. Won't you clean me up?" She purred, dropping the sheet and pushing aside the stall door. She stepped in next to him, wrapping her arms around his slick torso. He returned the embrace, moving the sprayer to pour down on the top of her head. She angled her face up and kissed him as he pressed his hands into her slick breasts.

She grabbed a bar of soap and began running it over his chest, around his neck, and down his arms. He took it from her and returned the favor, running the soap along her breasts and around her belly before sinking to his knees. He pushed his fingers into her labia, pressing his fingers inside of her. She whimpered and leaned back, angling her hips so her legs opened wider. Glenn smiled and leaned forward, flicking his tongue over her clitoris before pressing his mouth against her. She moaned at a higher pitch and reached down, tangling her fingers in his hair.

"How do you do it, Glenn?" She moaned, feeling her hips begin to sway in rhythm with his tongue.

"It's the alphabet trick." He laughed, reaching up to squeeze her breast while the other stroked inside of her.

"The alphabet trick?" She sighed, her voice hitching in the middle.

"A," He said, tracing the letter on her clitoris with the tip of his tongue, "B-" flicking it inside of her and skirting the edges of her labia, "C-"

"Fuck me, Glenn." Meg moaned. She was slick and swollen and had begun panting lightly. Glenn grinned and stood up, his erection standing straight and hard. He hooked his hands on her hips and guided himself inside her, smooth as cream.

"You purr like a kitten," He whispered, taking her earlobe in his lips. She bit his cheek playfully and pushed him away. He stepped back and she turned around, pressing her hands to the glass.

"Oh, goodness." She said innocently, "I seem to have forgotten my panties today, surely someone won't come by and take advantage." She said, arching her back. Glenn growled playfully and approached, reaching around her body to press his fingers into her clit as he slid in from behind.

It didn't take long after that, their moans echoing in the bathroom until Meg cried out first, her voice like a song, before Glenn followed suit and felt himself release. He basked for only a second though in the post-sex glow before realizing with a hollow thud in his heart that he hadn't had a condom. Meg was panting, pulling her hair back behind her head and reaching out for Glenn's shampoo. He reached out for her wrist.

"Meg- I… I didn't pull out."

"What?"

"I came inside of you."

"Umm, yeah. I could feel it, Glenn." She said with a shrug.

"No, seriously. I came inside of you. I mean… are you on birth control?"

"Well, no." She said, pulling her wrist out of his hand.

"No? This is important! We need to get you a, like, a pill or something..."

"Don't worry about it." She said, frowning.

"You can't get pregnant, Meg. I mean it. I mean, Peter's reaction alone..."

"I said don't worry about it." Meg replied, furrowing her brow. She opened the stall door and stepped out, grabbing a towel. "I think I should be getting home." She said, wrapping it around her body.

"I can't let you leave until I know that you are going to do something about this."

"You can't let me?" She said incredulously, "You let me suck your dick, you let me fuck you almost every day for months, you let me-urgh! You'll let me do fucking anything, but you won't let me leave?"

"What the fuck is your problem?" Glenn said, "I can't be a father, you know that."

"Aren't you already a father, Glenn?" She bit back bitterly. Glenn straightened, aghast.

"I...how do you know about-"

"You have kids, Glenn. Multiple kids. You have some kids that are older than I am, right?" She said, "so what's one fucking more?"

"Meg, its diff-"

"Because you would take responsibility for this one? Like I'm really so different from any other skank you bang."

There was a moment of tense silence, the only sound being the water still flowing from the shower head, running down Glenn's back.

"I am going to say something." Glenn announced, watching Meg's face, "may I say it uninterrupted?"

Meg sighed and nodded.

"Megan Griffin. I am a serial womanizer. I have had more flings and fucks and one night stands than anyone I have ever known. I've only had three serious relationships and they've all ended in death or heartbreak. I have never spent more than two or three nights with any casual fling. I thought I knew what I was doing, giving in to you like this. I thought you would just be like any other fling, just closer and more convenient. I didn't worry about it. I didn't have to. But now…"

He pressed a hand to his face, turning off the shower with his other. The silence after the white noise of the shower was almost deafening, the only background sound being the water dripping off of his gangly limbs. Meg took in the sight of him, Glenn Quagmire standing naked in front of her, his face looking like he just got punched. This was probably the most vulnerable he had ever been, and that thought scared her.

"I don't want to say that I love you, Meg, because I don't know if it's true." He said, "But what I have with you… well, it's precious to me, and it's different from any other relationship I've had in the past. So if you for some reason still think that you are just a disposable fling, by all means walk right out that door. But if you feel like I do, if you think that I'm important to you, and if you believe that you are important to me, then you will agree to prevent any pregnancy. I can't put you through that, I can't put you through something that I can not and will not support."

Meg considered a moment, her fingers pressing into the corner of his counter. This towel was scratchy. She was getting chilly, standing in the bathroom as the steam from the shower began to slowly dissipate. Her feet pressed into a well-worn bathroom rug, a rug that had been with Glenn before Meg, and would probably be with him afterwards. She lifted the corner of her mouth, laughing at her own melodrama. She was romanticizing a fucking bathroom mat.

Meg looked up at Quagmire, meeting his gaze, before gingerly stepping forward. She pressed her lips to his gently, bringing up her hand to cup his cheek, but when he moved to deepen the kiss she pulled away.

"I have to go home Quagmire." She said, refusing to look away from his face, "But I'll text you later, okay?"

He nodded in silence and made no effort to move, watching as she exited into the bedroom. Her movements were slow and deliberate as she dried herself off, wrapped her hair in the towel, and began gathering her scattered clothes from the bedroom floor. He felt himself sink down onto the closed toilet. He said nothing as she dressed herself and left his bedroom, not even looking back at him.

"What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Quagmire?"

Meg had been able to keep composure in front of Quagmire, but stepping out of his house was like releasing a dam and she felt her cheeks grow wet with tears. She brought her hands up to wipe them away, furious with embarrassment. She knew she looked like a mess. Her hair was still wet from the shower, her body still tingling from climax, her clothes were wrinkled, and she had only been able to find one sock. She was just glad that no one had seen her-

"Is that you, Meg?"

Fuck.

She looked up to see Joe Swanson. Her heart jumped in her chest, but she attempted to stay cool and collected.

"Oh, hey Mr. Swanson."

"What, uh, whacha doing there?" He asked, shifting his eyes from her disheveled appearance to Quagmire's house behind her.

"Just taking a walk."

"...Through Quagmire's house?" He asked, eyebrow raised.

"What? No, I just walked past-"

"I saw you, Meg." He said. Joe Swanson was the hardest person to have disappointed in you. Meg had experienced it before, the subtle, fatherly disapproval. She knew she couldn't hide anything from him. She also knew that he probably had his suspicions. There were some evenings when she went to Quagmire's when the Swansons were still awake, Joe and Bonnie's silhouettes flashing on the living room curtain as they watched late night television together. She had felt emboldened by her brazen behavior and had told herself that she didn't care who knew that she was carrying on an illicit secret affair with her older neighbor. She realized now that she did care, she cared a lot, and she was ashamed.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on?" Joe didn't seem angry, at least not with her, but it wasn't something she wanted to talk about. No, actually, she did want to talk about it, but not here. Not in front of Glenn's house.

"Can I come over, Mr. Swanson?" Meg asked, feeling tears well in her eyes. Joe nodded, smiling up at her kindly, before spinning his wheelchair around and heading back towards his house.

Meg blew her nose again and took another long drink from the mug. This was her fourth cup of coffee and second box of tissues. Joe just sat calmly, hands resting forward on the table as if he was playing good cop in an interrogation. To be honest, though, that's what was really happening.

"So now I just… I don't know. I feel like a slut." She said. Joe breathed slowly out his nose, but didn't take his eyes off Meg's face.

"You aren't a slut, Meg." Joe affirmed, patting her hand kindly, "You are a young, confused woman who fell in love with the wrong kind of guy."

"I don't understand, though-" Meg said, leaning back and crossing her arms, "Dad said something similar when Glenn took me to the cabin last year, and now you're saying it- but you guys are friends with him? If he's really so bad, why do you guys hang out with him?"

"It's hard to say, Meg." Joe said with a sigh, "He's a great guy to hang out and have a beer with, and I suppose when you don't think that you have any personal stake in his destructive behavior you can kind of let it slide. When you were underage I suppose Peter and I didn't even think of it, and your parents thought they had scared him off pretty good last year." He looked at Meg's face, choosing his words carefully, "But I don't think they ever really considered what you wanted. Did they, Meg?"

"What are you going to do, Mr. Swanson?"

"I'm going to be honest Meg, I don't know. I am going to have a talk with Glenn, that's the only thing for sure, but-"

"Oh, please Mr. Swanson, please, please, please don't tell my parents. Do you know what my dad would do to Glenn? Do you know what he would do to me?"

"Quagmire would have it worse off." He said matter-of-factly. "They would be mad at you, but I'm sure Lois can understand and forgive a wild streak. Glenn, though, I mean… Meg. He's 62. If there is anyone in this whole situation who should have known better, it's Glenn Quagmire."

"They can't know. They just can't…" Meg sobbed, covering her face in her hands. Her whole body seemed to be swollen with embarrassment and shame. Her shoulders shook as she cried and she felt Joe wheel over and place a fatherly hand around her.

"I will do everything in my power to make this situation better, Meg. If that means telling Peter and Lois what Quagmire did to you, then that is what it is going to take. It all depends on what Quagmire says. If he was just using you or leading you on, I don't know that I can forgive that." Joe moved his hand to grasp her shoulder, "Your family has been so close to me over the years, even through our ups and downs, and I don't see you like my friend's daughter. You're like, well you're like a niece to me, Meg, and I don't want to see you hurt."

Meg sniffed and kept her eyes down, studying her crossed hands in her lap.

"Thank you, Mr. Swanson."

"You are welcome, Meg." Joe said, "I'm going to have a talk with Quagmire. You stay here and finish your drink."

As he turned away from the table, he saw Bonnie leaning in the doorway. She looked from Meg and back to Joe before nodding.

"Kick his ass, Joe."