Chapter Seven: Never Gunna Work

I don't own Family Guy, yadda yadda yadda...

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" His yell reached the heavens on a loud, high-pitched squeel, ear-breaking and glass-shattering (although none of the above were involved).

Something terrible had truely just happened. He had just woke up, and something utterly disasterous was afoot. He began frollocking through his sheets frantically, his mind set on one thing.

No, he thought, throwing Rupert over the side of the crib. NO!

Stewie threw the pillowcase off the pillow, growling in aggrivation. "The letters," yelled Stewie. "They're gone!" He jumped from his crib and began looking wherever the letters could possibly be: his dresser, his closet, under the matress, under the crib, in his toychest...

"Where the devil could they be?" He spoke aloud, annoyance prominent in his voice. This was a conspiracy. His love letters for Brian were gone! But how?

"I couldn't have misplaced them." he pondered. "I put the last one in the pillowcase with the others and now they're gone!"

He was so taken-back at this situation. How could this be happening? He had the letters so safely hidden, no one went through his sheets, except fro Lois on...

"Laundry Day!" cried Stewie.

At that moment, Lois entered the room, smiling brightly. "Goodmorning, sunshine!" She greeted, kissing him gently on the top of his head, and flattening the little case of bed head that was burdened ontop of his cranium.

He had to ask her about the missing letters, but not be so out there about it. "Lois, have you rummaged through my things?" Stewie half-asked, half-demanded, trying not to sound too eager to find the response..

"Oh, Stewie," said Lois, picking her son up and cradling him. "Mommy found your letters for Brian, while I was replacing your sheets. You usually wake up when mommy's readying the laundry. Bit I though you wouldn't mind if I too the letters. I didn't read them, but I thought I'd give them to him for you."

At these words, Stewie froze. He slowly tilted his head upward to look at his mother. Calmly, and slowly he spoke. "Y-y-you what?" he asked, stuttering, his eyes wide as they could possibly go.

"Oh, I gave those letters you wrote to Brian, they were adressed to him." said Lois. "But don't worry, honey, I didn't read them."

He lept from her arms and rushed downstairs. Maybe Brian hadn't read the letters yet and he could get them back. Yes, he thought, I'll get them back. Stewie rushed through the living room and dining room, and stopped at the kitchen doorway. There Brian was, sitting at the kitchen table, the pile of Stewie's love letters in his paws. He seemed to be halfway through the pile, and Stewie didn't know what to feel. He was confused, angry, and upset all at once, but also he felt relieved in a way. His emotions were finally out in the open to Brian, he felt a weight lift from his heart, and he sighed in relief.

"Stewie,"

The way Brian said his name, made Stewie's heart leap-both joyously and anxiously. He wanted to hear what was coming next, and yet he didn't. He was so afraid of rejection...

He gulped and responded quietly, "Yes?"

"Come here." Brian motioned towards the chair besides him, as he took off his reading glasses and placed the stack of letters down.

Slowly, and a bit grudgingly, Stewie dragged his footsy-pajama-covered feet all the way to the table, taking a seat next to Brian.

Brian sighed heavily, making Stewie more nervous on what was to come. Brian's words of rejection would stab him like a knife through the heart, he felt that Brian would say the exact opposite of what he wanted to hear, and yet there was that miniscule portion of hope, lingering in Stewie's mind and in his heart.

There was momentary silence, in which Stewie could've gained whiplash from turning his head from Brian to the stack of letters so quickly, and for such a short while-but which seemed like hours.

When is he going to talk? Stewie asked himself. Damn it, Brian! Do it already! Reject me, tell me how it'll never work out! I can't stand this anticipation!

"Lois gave me these." Brian motioned towards the pile of letters.

Stewie just nodded solemnly.

"I've read through most of them, they were out of order, I think." said Brian, his voice seemed a bit strange.

He's looking for the right words to let me down easy.

"Look, Stewie-"

"No, Brian, it's alright." interjected Stewie. "I was foolish to ever think you could ever feel the same. I'm terrible sorry for making you lose Jillian. And I'm sorry for wasting your time with these worthless letters. These feelings are unnatural, just make a pun at me like you'd normally do. Crack a gay joke. I don't care, Brian, I can't hide my feelings any longer, even if you don't care."

"Stewie, listen to m-"

"I understand, Brian." Stewie sniffled. The shameful tears were once again burning his eyes. "I'll leave you alone."

"God dammit, Stewie, listen to me!" barked Brian.

Stewie shut up, wiping his eyes.

"Don't cry." consoled Brian, patting his shoulder. "Look, Stewie, we need to talk about this. These feelings."

"I already said I understood." Stewie cried, trying to hide his face in his hands.

"No, stewie, you don't get it." Brian cooed, soothingly. "I need to explain to you something. You need to know how I feel too."

Stewie slowly looked up at Brian, that small smile that played on Brian's lips somehow did wonders for Stewie, and he listened up to Brian's words.

"Stewie," He started simply with that name. His smile was so big, yet his eyes seemed to be filled with sadness. "I can't explain for how long I've felt this way. I've been covering up with different girls, actually feeling something for Jillian, only hoping to rid the impure thoughts of you that haunt my mind. Stewie, I love you the same as you do..."

But something seemed to send a different message to Stewie. "What's wrong?" he asked, putting his hadn over Brian's.

With a small chuckle, Brian went on. "What's wrong, is that you're an infant, Stewie." explained Brian. "I could be charged as a child molestor, I could be charged under a Michael Jackson case. No matter how strongly we may love each other, it's never gunna work."

With a quiver of the lip, Stewie's eyes poured over with tears. "But I don't care, Brian! I love you!" he wailed.

Brian smiled weakly, and licked his cheek affectionatly. "I'm sorry, Stewie." he apologized, and hopped off of the chair after picking the letters back off. He headed to the doorway, tears whimpering slightly as he went.

Brian, wait!' Stewie called.

And as Brian turned around, his lips were against Stewie's in a kiss so fantastically different from the kiss of life he once had to use to save Stewie from the pool or from other times under cover. It was deep, it was romatic, and yet it was very sad. This was the kiss of love that wasn't allowed to be, and the forbiddeness of it made it more worthwhile. The lip encounterment was very brief, yet it meant so much more then a longer kiss of Lois and Peter. Brian reluctantly backed off, knowing what would happen if someone walked in.

"See you around, Stewie." he whispered, and headed back on his way out of the doorway, and out the front door, letters still in hand.