Chapter 4: No Satisfaction
Brian awoke before his alarm sounded, and sat up groggily in bed, blinking at it in some surprise while smacking his gums. He had only to conclude that his daily routine had now become such a part of him that his very system had caught on. He knew when to wake up.
In accordance with his routine, the dog lingered in bed for a few minutes, yawning and stretching and preparing himself mentally to face the day. And, as usual, he paused to watch Lois slumbering, over there in her own single bed.
Single bed. Married people. Single bed.
It just seemed wrong. Brian felt the familiar pang of loneliness and rejection. Still, he kept telling himself that things would change. They had jumped into this marriage a bit, he had to admit. Oh, it was the right decision, Brian was thoroughly convinced about that! But she hadn't had time to process everything, and that had led to their current difficulty.
She was so relaxed in sleep… She lay on her side, facing him, and Brian gazed upon her lovely visage adoringly. Her expression was so open and untroubled, free of the tension it so often held during the day.
If he went over and perched on the edge of her bed, stroked her hair and her cheek, and kissed her awake, would she be upset that he didn't let her sleep? That would be kind of rude, Brian supposed. Lois had a lot to do during the day, as well, and if she was tired, she was tired.
A mumble escaping her lips caught the canine's attention and gave him a little flutter of embarrassment as he automatically darted his eyes away from her. Then, just as swiftly, he turned back toward her, scolding himself for being a damn idiot who was embarrassed for getting caught staring at his own wife. So what if she saw him looking?
So he looked back at Lois, and found himself looking at her writhing softly on the bed. Brian watched curiously. Was she in the process of waking up? She murmured a string of nonsense words against her pillow.
As the dog sat and observed, waiting to find out what would happen next, his wife began to kick her legs in an awkward but almost desperate manner, like someone who had never swum before, but was determined to figure it out after they were already in the water. Lois kicked the covers clean off, but still appeared to be completely asleep.
No sooner had the woman quit thrashing about did she reach a hand down- Brian's heart stopped, and he was sure his eyes bulged out of his head- and begin to rub her hand against the front of her nightgown...down between her legs.
Brian was stricken. It was mesmerizing, obviously, but...well, the dog had had a working theory that Lois didn't really have a sex drive, currently. It would make sense, with all the stress and trauma, and would explain why she had yet to, uh...share any meaningful physical closeness with her new husband.
She continued to make a variety of little sleepy noises that now definitely also sounded aroused. Brian found he had scooted himself over to the edge of the bed, about to fall out, actually… He steadied himself, but kept on leaning forward toward Lois's bed, waiting with bated breath, thinking he might hear his name spill from her lips.
There were no discernible words yet, just sounds. Lois moved onto her stomach, gently rolling her hips against the mattress. Brian made his own sound, whimpering. He was stiffening rapidly. It was a beautiful sight, to watch her curvy body move in lust…
The air was rent by the ugly, loud, cacophonous sound of the alarm finally going off, breaking into the scene and shattering the erotic scene before him. The dog turned and frantically swatted at the button to turn it off, but too late. For once, Lois failed to sleep through her husband's blaring alarm, and as he looked back over at her, she was stirring again, but not in the way she had previously. She slowly propped herself up on her arms, eyes still shut. Brian's stunner of a wife scrubbed the heel of a hand over a sleepy eye, and muttered one confused but intelligible word as she, unseeing, continued to sit up.
"Peter?"
"It's just a big decision; that's why I'm having so much trouble making up my mind," said the man sitting across the desk from Brian. His name was Mr. Brookes or something, as far as the dog could remember. Brian took a swig of coffee and eyed the man understandingly, nodding along as he spoke.
"Take all the time you need."
Mr. B. (for the canine was fairly certain it was a 'B' name, like his own first name) reacted to Brian's patience as though the salesman was putting further pressure on him. He scratched at an elbow agitatedly. This man, this Mr. Forgettable, might at least become memorable for his scratching. He seemed to scratch himself far more than even Brian did.
"My wife, see- I think I told you, didn't I?- she was pretty much against me getting a Hummer, at first. That's why I left last time saying I'd think about it."
Damn it, Brian really should be able to remember this guy's name! Especially given that they had met before, and the man had made a special appointment for today to look at the motor vehicle monstrosities they sold here.
He was a professional salesman, now. He couldn't just forget a name. Names were important. Names informed everything everyone did ever.
They were attached to one's good name. They either fit you or they didn't, but names made such an impression that they either went with a face or didn't. They were what you used to call out to a buddy, to get his attention and not someone's else. They left a lover's sighing lips…
"I mean, it's going to be my main source of transportation, so…" Mr. B. chuckled nervously, now scratching the back of his hand. "It's just really important to make the right call. I don't wanna be driving around in something that… Well, it just sucks to have regrets about something as important as your car, you know?"
"Mmhm, mmhm," the dog muttered, but he wasn't even looking at his client anymore. He was letting his gaze wander around the dealership. There had to be something to look at that was more interesting than the forgettable Mr. B. and his apparently extremely dry skin. God, work was...tedious. Maybe it wasn't exactly supposed to be fun. He was the man of his house, now. He could acknowledge that and deal with that, but there should be something here to keep his mind...stimulated. To keep it from wandering.
He could see the water cooler from his desk. He watched a couple of his co-workers, standing chatting by it. One was filling up that funny-looking water bottle. Environmentally conscious, to carry a reusable water bottle. How much of the damage caused by selling people Hummers did that cancel out?
Actually… As Brian looked more fixedly at the water bottle, he noticed that the reason it looked so peculiar was how curvy it was. A curvy water bottle… Well, that wasn't all that unusual, was it? Didn't most of them have curves? Ergonomic design, right? Good places for...your hands to go. Maybe what made that bottle look so unique was the placement of the curves. It looked almost like…
"Women, you know," said Mr. B., suddenly speaking up, weak laughter underlining his speech, evidently attempting a joke. It was enough to bring Brian back to reality and shame him out of...for fuck's sake, he'd been ogling a water bottle!
"Often they only care about getting the right color," Brian's client went on. "Me, I gotta look at all my choices, and it's not just between these two models…" He tapped his fingers against the fact sheets that the dog had had printed up about the contending SUV's Mr B. was looking at.
"Either way, you can't go wrong!" Brian interjected in his bright, enthusiastic salesman's voice, hating himself slightly as he did so. Was it worse to sound like he bought his own shit, or to sound unconvincing? Either way, it did not seem to have much of an effect on Mr. B., who was now scratching his shoulder. Brian wondered vaguely if he had a contagious skin disease.
"I have to decide which model to get…" the itchy client said thoughtfully, softly, almost to himself, while Brian was itching to move this sale or non-sale, whatever it was going to be, along. "And then I need to think about if I want any upgrades…"
"Would you like another test drive, er, uh- buddy?" Brian asked desperately. Get him out of here, even for a minute! Give me just a minute's break from him! "You can try them both out again, really get a feel…"
At that moment, they were interrupted by a cell phone ringtone. The sounds of Sexual Healing filled the dealership. The phone, it turned out, was residing in Mr. B's pocket. The man pulled it out, looked at it, hesitated, and, with an abashed look on his face, glanced back over at Brian.
"It's, uh...this is my wife. I think I have to take it."
"That's fine," the dog said hurriedly, easily disregarding the advice Paddy had given him about never leaving a customer alone. "You know what, I could actually use a restroom break, so if you'll excuse me…" He hopped down from his chair and made his way around his desk and out of the cubicle. "Take all the time you need!" he reiterated over his shoulder.
The employee bathroom was empty, and Brian sat with the lid down on a toilet seat, wishing he had a smoke or a drink or anything to take the edge off today. He groaned and dropped his head into his hands.
He was stupid. Today wasn't even a particularly bad day, was it? He'd woken in his bedroom with the woman he loved. Now that it was summer vacation, the kids didn't have to get up for school (except for Stewie with his preschool), but they'd been cooperative and gotten up without a fuss just to eat the French toast he'd cooked for breakfast. Traffic on the streets had been good. Even Stewie had been docile for Stewie, even telling Brian to have a good day when the dog had pecked him goodbye on the cheek.
And as far as customers went, boring, indecisive ones were nothing new, and even a disconcertingly itchy one wasn't the worst. He'd had customers who were perfectly genial, then when Brian told them the price and explained about their financing options, they acted like he was personally trying to rip them off and cursed at him. And this being a Hummer dealership, there were a fair amount of customers to whom "small talk" meant griping about "the world today" and dropping plenty of racial and homophobic slurs into their rants.
So why was Brian hiding from his day in the bathroom? Because in his mind's eye, he couldn't stop seeing his wife humping her single mattress? The wife who still refused to sleep with him, months after their marriage? Because he could still hear her softly moaning another's name?
Toughen up, Brian! he told himself, quite severely. Of course she still thinks about him! What the hell is your problem? You'll never fantasize about any of your old girlfriends again, is that what you're saying? And you got more closure from them than she did from what happened to Peter. Have a little compassion!
So she still thought about Peter. But the problem was- would she ever think about Brian like that, at all? How long did he have to wait?
How could he compete with a ghost? He had never wanted to compete with his old friend in life, and he certainly didn't want to compete now that Peter was dead.
She still loves him. ...Hell, I still love him! he added, catching himself. But…
Of course I'm jealous! Is there room in her heart for me? If not...why am I even doing this? What am I getting out of it?
This was a dangerous course of thought, indeed, and while the canine sat almost paralyzed by fear of it, he heard somebody else enter the bathroom.
The dog saw the shoes, the pair of legs move past his stall, but the unknown man didn't go into a stall of his own. Instead, he went to the sink; Brian heard the water begin to run, and then a splashing sound. It sounded like the guy might be splashing water on his face. There was a heavy exhalation- a sigh of mingled frustration and relief.
And next, the canine heard, to his surprise, a voice that he recognized start to recite a list of affirmations.
"I am the hero of my own story," said Sean, in a voice of forced determination. "If I can dream it, I can do it."
What the hell?
Brian executed a curious doggy head tilt involuntarily, staring at the closed door in front of him in stupefaction, puzzling over his co-worker, out there on the other side of that door, trying to psyche himself up using cheesy quotes. It was almost unbelievable.
"I am smart, capable, and resourceful, and I have what it takes to be a success," droned Sean.
Brian had actually tried methods like that before, to try and motivate himself and increase his self-confidence. They'd never done any good. It seemed incredible that they would work for Sean, but what seemed even more so was that he'd even need them.
He didn't even think; he just hopped down off his seat, swung the door open and asked,
"Is that the secret to your success?"
Sean's eyes met his in the mirror before the man spun around and they looked each other in the eye properly. Sean looked as though he'd been caught at something extremely shameful. He stood unblinking, unmoving for several seconds, but when he managed his recovery, it appeared to be a full one.
"Haha, you wish! If only it were that easy, huh, Brian? You caught Rumpelstiltskin saying his name, and now you know everything worth knowing."
The slick smile was back on Sean's face, and his self-assured, carefree manner had returned, but Brian was skeptical that there wasn't something more here than met the eye.
"I didn't see legs, Brian," said Sean, quite blandly, but his look was intent. "I did a scan for those, but yours are too short." He turned back around toward the sink and straightened his tie while watching his own reflection. "There's not a little person hiding in the other stall, is there?"
"Uhhhh, not to my knowledge," replied the dog, and knocked on the other stall door to humor his coworker. "Knock, knock!" he sang out sportively, and laughed, a little awkwardly. He opened the door a crack and took a faux-cautious look inside. "Nope. The coast is clear now."
Sean didn't react.
Brian cleared his throat.
"So, uh, hey, we- we haven't gotten to talk much since you came back from vacation. Did you have a nice time?"
"'Nice'?" Sean gaped at him. "'Nice'? Well, no, I can't say that I did." He suddenly broke into a large grin. "It was all about being naughty, my friend!" He laughed riotously, to the point where the canine felt strange for not joining in.
Taking his cell phone out of his pocket, Sean searched through it until he evidently found what he was looking for, and directed Brian to the screen.
"Look, look. You see these two girls? Two totally effing knockouts, wouldn't ya say? They're sisters. Misty and Miranda. ...Or was it Mindy and Maria? It doesn't matter." He waved away his bad memory with one hand and with his other, stabbed a finger enthusiastically at the photo.
The dog was looking at two young women, both dark-haired and buxom and wearing skimpy bikinis. Sean was also in the photo, standing between them, an arm around each of them, looking half-bombed and quite pleased with himself.
"Ahaha, nice," Brian endorsed, hoping he sounded suitably stoked. In actuality, he was mildly annoyed by Sean's attitude and the picture. Of course, he wasn't going to celebrate too much in the man's honor. They simply weren't friends like that, but what was this prickle of negative emotion he was feeling? Was he...jealous or something? That was unthinkable. They were gorgeous young women, but…
"So, you hooked up with both of them?"
"Do you even have to ask?" Sean scoffed laughingly. "Oh, and there were plenty of other hot little mamas, I assure you." He grinned an oily grin, and Brian just chuckled some more and literally patted him on the back, since the dog's mouth was dry, and he didn't seem to be able to do it verbally.
"You shouldn't show these kinds of things to a married man," he found himself scolding playfully, even as he wondered just what the hell he was talking about. Because it would provoke too much envy? But Brian didn't envy Sean! He just couldn't. Maybe he envied his sales record, but Brian's single days were just recently behind him, and he remembered them as miserable, nothing to mourn the loss of.
And Lois was easily these women's equal in beauty. At least. And he loved her. And-
"You're right, I'm cruel," chortled Sean, in his smug element. "I mean, these women I was talking about? They were getting wild! Good luck getting a wife to do any of that stuff, Griffin, before long it'll be all rollin' the flannel nightgown up, under the covers, in the dark, 'Hurry up and get it over with, honey!'" He pitched his voice up into a grotesque imitation of a woman's.
That showed what Sean knew. Lois wasn't sleeping with Brian at all.
The canine groaned internally. Damnit, it was a sex thing!
He was going to work at not concentrating on his sexual frustration, and now it was even bothering him subconsciously. Hell, he was jealous Baron Von Itchington out there, because even with his unmemorable persona and constantly scratching hands, he had a wife who called him, who gave him "sexual healing".
...Of course, he couldn't know that last part for a fact. Maybe he just needed sexual healing...in addition to another type of healing, clearly.
"I don't see that happening to us," Brian told Sean, trying to sound as assured as he could, which wasn't difficult. If Lois ever did sex him up, he'd be so grateful that he'd see no right to complain if it did turn out to be old married sex. He'd gladly take that, right now.
"Nobody ever does," said Sean ominously, and as if by mutual agreement, the two of them started moving out of the restroom. He hesitated, then raked his fingers through his head of blond hair and said in a voice that sounded a little too deliberately nonchalant, "You know, my ex recently went on vacation, too. Yeah. Aspen. Friend of a friend told me. He thinks she's going to marry her ski instructor."
He scoffed loudly. "Some people, huh? Well, hey, man, he's welcome to her!" Now, his laugh was peculiarly forceful. "If he likes the cold so much, maybe he can actually tolerate her frigid nature!"
Again, Brian joined in the laughter just because he would've felt too weird not laughing, and then the two salesmen looked around, eager to be out of each other's company. They were back out on the sales floor. Brian could see his desk from where he stood, and Mr. B., unfortunately, still sitting on the other side of it.
Idiot! You shouldn't hope that your customer left without buying anything!
Sean saw where the dog's eyes had gone, and pointed out, "You've been with that guy for a while, haven't you? Taking a long time to seal the deal?"
Brian shrugged, bugged. "Maybe a little bit, but that's alright. It's, uh, it's the thrill of the anticipation, right?" Oh, hell, and now he was thinking about his accidentally celibate state again! Thrill of anticipation, indeed! Not there. Now the lead-up had just become agonizing.
Enough building toward the climax. ….So to speak.
Back to the distinctly unsexy world of Hummer sales. Sean didn't even need to call the canine's bluff. He just shook his head and clasped Brian on the shoulder.
"Let me do you a solid," the man muttered, and before the dog could respond, Sean strode away at a fast pace- in the direction of Brian's client. As Brian was left dumbfounded in his wake, Paddy's nephew sidled on up to Mr. B. and started chatting with him.
As the full implications of the situation dawned on the dog, Brian burned with anger.
What the hell?!
All that time spent with that lackluster, indecisive, itchy moron, just for Sean to swoop in at the last moment like some kind of vulture and take the spoils from the kill Brian had worked so hard for?! Sure, Sean was a blowhard who could be pretty irritating, but the dog had always considered him to be basically alright.
"You bastard!" Brian hissed under his breath, clenching his fists. The rest of the dealership seemed oblivious to the goings on of the dog and that thief Sean. Didn't Mr. Top Salesman enjoy enough success? Brian knew he should be doing something about this, but he'd been so surprised, and Sean was such a smooth operator, that by the time the canine had taken one indignant step forward, Mr. B. was signing something on a clipboard.
Brian hurried forward, and reached the men as Sean was handing the new Hummer owner his keys.
Mr. B. promptly used them to scratch the back of his hand.
"Enjoy your new vehicle, Mr. Brewer!" Sean told him, all goodwill and well wishes. "She's a beaut!" The blond man grinned a big, shiteating grin, and Mr. B.- for Brewer, apparently- departed.
Brian leveled Sean with the harshest glare in his power, and opened his mouth, about to let him have it.
But Sean started talking first.
"You just need some more practice, Brian- "
"Oh, like that's an excuse?!" Brian barked out, incredulous.
"An excuse? Just some advice," said Sean, looking fairly perplexed, though his smile was sanguine.
"Oh, okay!" the dog exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air and chuckling with acid in his voice. "That's what you're going to do, huh? Royally screw me over and then try to tell me you were just teaching me a lesson? Well, the only thing I've learned is you're a- "
Sean raised his voice to talk over him. "I'm gonna stop you there before you say something you'll regret." His eyes hooded themselves in resentment as the man thrust the clipboard at Brian. "Who does it say closed the sale?"
"Oh, sure! Rub it in! Do you play dirty tricks like this all the time? No wonder you're top salesman." The canine's eyes scanned the form, barely seeing, much less comprehending what he was reading, half blinded as he was by outrage. "You phony piece of work, you…" The rest of the condemnation died on his lips as he finally read something he could understand. His own name.
Mentioned as the seller of the vehicle.
"Oh…" Brian mumbled dully. He shuffled on his feet uneasily. He looked slowly up at Sean, who was frowning back at him, although perhaps not as severely as he deserved.
"Looks like my phony tactics got you your commission," the man said evenly, before turning to walk away. "I told you I'd do you a solid."
I can't get no satisfaction.
I can't get no satisfaction.
'Cause I try and I try and I try and I try.
I can't get no. I can't get no.
The canine pulled into the driveway and groaned before slamming off the radio, taking a second to lean back in his seat and release a long sigh. After pulling himself together, he finally sat up and killed the engine of his car before exiting it. As he was making his way across the front lawn, he couldn't help but notice Stewie outside sitting on the ground and playing with Rupert. The boy's eyes met his, and his attention was immediately refocused as he smiled and stood up.
"Hey, Brian!"
The dog stopped and turned to greet the infant who was quickly walking toward him.
"Oh! Uh, hey, Stewie."
The baby's smile grew as he came to stand beside the dog.
"What's up? How was your day?"
Brian shrugged.
"It was just another day. What about you? What have you been up to?"
The child shrugged, as well.
"Oh, you know, same old, same old. I don't really pay attention at preschool. I just kind of do things my way, Stewie's way."
The boy pointed back at himself with his thumb, looking quite proud. Brian couldn't help but chuckle.
"Ah. Well, that is the best way."
Stewie nodded in complete agreement.
"You're damn right!"
And the confident remark came paired with a just as confident smirk that earned one extra laugh from Brian.
"Don't get too cocky, now."
The infant shrugged.
"Who? Me? Don't be silly. Even though I do have every right to be, I'm well aware that cockiness is far from attractive."
Brian rolled his eyes, amused.
"Attractive? And why should that be a concern of yours?"
The boy looked like he was about to answer, but no words came. Sensing an awkwardness brewing in the air, Brian decided to change the subject.
"So, anyway, I'm going to head inside. You coming in? Gonna grab Rupert?"
The baby turned to look at the bear still sitting in the grass.
"Oh...yeah. Go on ahead. We'll be right behind you."
The dog nodded his head and turned towards the house. As soon as he entered, he called out to his wife.
"Honey, I'm home!"
No response came. He scratched his head, confused.
"Lois?"
He set down his briefcase and made his way into the kitchen. Sure enough, Lois was in there, standing over a large pot on the stove. The canine tapped his knuckles against the doorframe to get her attention.
"Knock. Knock."
The woman turned to look at him, and smiled slightly.
"Oh, hey, Brian."
The dog began walking towards her.
"Did you not hear me come in? I called out to you."
The woman turned back towards the stove.
"No, I must not have been able to hear over the fan."
She pointed up to the hood of the oven before grabbing a spoon and stirring whatever contents were in the pot. Brian hummed, acknowledging her point and deciding to drop it.
"So, how was your day, sweetie?"
The woman stopped stirring and turned the heat down before placing a lid over the pot.
"To be honest with you, it's been kind of stressful."
Brian frowned at this.
"Stressful? How so?"
Lois just shook her head.
"Oh. It's just the usual, Brian. I didn't really wake up in the best mood, and Stewie wanted to give me trouble as we were getting ready. So, I snapped at him and felt bad about that, and it only made things worse because he got more fussy so it was a pain getting him to preschool this morning. Then, I had a bunch of errands to run, had to run to the bank and do some shopping. Traffic was a nightmare."
She stopped and waved her hand.
"It was just one of those days. It'll be alright."
This didn't satisfy Brian, though. He could tell that his love was stressed. And, at that realization, an idea popped in his head, and he smiled.
"Here. Let me help you relax."
He quickly grabbed a chair and pulled it up behind the woman before climbing up to stand on it. Lois turned her head to look back at him.
"What are you doing, Brian?"
The dog decided to show rather than tell as he reached up and began massaging her shoulders. He could feel her tense up even more at his touch, but Brian figured it was just the shock of being touched so suddenly. She'd loosen up soon. He was sure of it. He cleared his throat and continued.
"That, uh, that feel good?"
The woman didn't answer, instead simply turning back towards the stove and the food she was preparing. After a few moments, Brian was saddened to find that she was as tense as ever.
Man, she must be under some serious stress.
The canine persisted, strengthening his efforts as he leaned in to whisper into his wife's ear.
"Come on, baby. Let me take care of you."
In the next instant, the woman was shrugging her shoulders, trying to loosen his grip.
"That...that isn't necessary, Brian, but thank you…"
The dog hesitated a moment before continuing, squeezing her shoulders firmly.
"Lois, I'm just trying to help. I mean, I'm your hus-"
"I said that's enough!"
She shouted out as she yanked her shoulders free.
The canine jumped and took a step back almost losing his balance but quickly regaining it. There was silence as the room grew cold, the woman devoting all her attention to her cooking. The dog reached out towards her but didn't dare make contact.
"L-Lois, I'm…"
She just continued ignoring him, and Brian, despite wanting to remedy the situation, knew he should just walk away. He could barely handle the tension, anyway.
"I'll… I'll just go."
He turned to hop off the chair and saw Stewie standing in the doorway and holding Rupert, staring at him and his mother. The dog's eyes grew wide, immediately concerned with how what had happened must have appeared to the child. He jumped down to the floor and began walking towards the boy, but Stewie was quick to turn and speed away. Feeling compelled to set the record straight, Brian jogged after him as silently as he could, not wanting Lois to hear and get involved. For someone with such small legs, the kid could really move. He was up the stairs in a flash, and by the time Brian had reached them he could clearly hear the sound of a door being slammed upstairs. The canine rushed up the stairs and went to open the door, but was surprised to find it locked.
Since when is there a lock on this door?
He knocked on the door.
"Stewie? I know you're in there."
He jiggled the knob.
"Come on. Open up. I know you saw me and your mother."
The door remained locked and the canine groaned in frustration.
"Steeeeeewiiiiiie… Open the door. Let me in. Let me explain."
He waited a moment longer and was about to turn to walk away when he heard the door slowly opening. The child peaked his head out, eyebrow quirked in apparent confusion.
"Explain what?"
Brian took a breath before motioning toward the door.
"Are you going to let me in?"
The infant appeared to consider the question for a moment before finally opening the door all the way and motioning for the dog to come inside.
"Fine. I don't know why you feel the need to talk to me so bad, but whatever, come say whatever it is you want to say."
The dog hurried inside and shut the door before following the child over to his little plastic table in the corner. They both had a seat, and there was silence for only a brief moment before Brian began speaking.
"Sooooo… What exactly did you see, Stewie?"
The baby rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair.
"Why do you care? It's your relationship. I have no say in anything. What I think doesn't matter."
Brian frowned at this.
"I just know that...things have been pretty good with you for a while, and I don't want this to cause you to be upset again. I remember how things were, at first…"
The boy sighed.
"I wasn't far behind you, Brian. I told you I'd be right in. I saw everything starting with Lois complaining about how oh so bad her day was. Oh, do I make her life difficult? Well, boo-fucking-hoo. She already gets more respect than she deserves. She's not getting any from me."
He folded his arms and huffed before continuing.
"So, yeah, I gave her a hard time this morning. She gives me a hard time EVERY morning, but she's my mother so that makes me a 'bad boy'."
He emphasized the last bit with air quotations before scoffing and sitting up to meet Brian's gaze.
"I just make her life so hard. So, what? Are you going to assert your role as man of the house and punish me for disrespecting her? Go on. Just try it. Punish little baby Stewie."
Brian's eyes went wide as he started waving his arms and shaking his head aggressively.
"What?! No! No! No! I didn't come up here to punish you!"
Hoping that was enough to defuse the situation, the dog made sure to make one other point.
"I mean, you should treat your mother better, but I'll let it slide this time. I'm just worried you saw what happened between us and are going to go back to your initial attitude regarding us."
The infant shook his head and placed his arms on the table.
"Well, if that's all that concerns you then you have nothing to worry about."
Brian wanted to believe the kid, but he wasn't exactly convinced.
"What… What did you think about what you saw, Stewie? Why did you run away? Was it just because you were scared I was going to punish you?"
The baby lifted his finger and wagged it at the dog.
"First of all, while I wasn't sure what your response to hearing about my behavior this morning would be, I wasn't scared of anything. Don't flatter yourself. It was simply an uncomfortable thing to witness. It was awkward, Brian, and when I saw you notice me and realized that you were going to try and talk to me about it, I left to avoid the very conversation we're having now. Like I said, what goes on in your relationship is none of my business. However, since you asked, I will say that what I witnessed seemed to me to be further proof of my opinions of your marriage from the start. Let's make that clear, my feelings regarding this union between you and that vile woman never changed. I simply adapted and acknowledged there was nothing I could do to change things. So, there was no point in making such a big deal out of something beyond my control. That's it. That's why you have nothing to worry about. What happened in the kitchen means nothing to me. You can rest easy tonight."
The canine blinked his eyes, a little stunned as he took a second to process everything the child had said. Stewie made his point well. He couldn't argue against that, so his response should have been completely satisfactory. But, something still wasn't quite sitting right with Brian. Maybe it was just how nonchalant the boy was acting about the whole thing. Could Stewie appearing to not care so much be a cause for concern? Maybe he should do some research later. Even still, at the moment, the canine could find no objection to make. He still wished that Stewie had at least a little faith in his marriage, but that was only something that could happen with time. He knew there was nothing he could say to change that opinion. He wasn't going down that road again, especially if Stewie was indeed ok. Why rock the boat? After thinking things over for a moment more, he nodded his head and finally replied.
"Ok. If you say you're alright, I believe you."
Stewie smiled slightly.
"I appreciate that."
Brian smiled back before standing up.
"I'll get out of your hair, then. Dinner should be ready soon, so don't get too preoccupied.
The baby seemed to glare at him for a brief moment before finally nodding.
"Right. Dinner. I'll be down. Just let me know when it's ready."
And with that the child also stood up and began walking toward his toybox. With nothing left to say, Brian turned to leave but stopped when he heard Stewie again.
"At least all of this drama distracted you from your usual routine…"
At hearing this, Brian turned on his heel to face the infant once more.
"What did you say?"
Stewie stood there by his toybox with wide eyes, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.
"Oh… You heard that?"
The canine nodded his head and folded his arms.
"I did. And, what did you mean by that? What do you think is my 'usual routine'?"
The baby rubbed his arm nervously, and Brian was pretty sure he heard him gulp.
"Oh, well, I guess it's not exactly a whole routine, but usually when you come in from work you, uh, you know...give me a kiss… But, I was just saying that I was lucky that I didn't have to deal with that today. I mean, why would I want to be kissed by some mutt?"
The child chuckled awkwardly, and for a minute, Brian just stared at him, not sure how to react before finally settling on a smirk.
"Oh, you know what? You're completely right. How could I forget?"
He walked over towards the boy slowly, savoring this moment where he could tease his little buddy. Stewie took a step back and held out his arms in protest.
"H-Hey now! I just told you I didn't want that! Don't come any closer!"
Brian laughed and grabbed the infant's arms, moving them aside before leaning in and giving him a prolonged peck on the cheek. When he finally pulled away and released the boy's arms, he laughed again as he watched the toddler make a face in disgust and proceed to wipe his cheek frantically. The dog shook his head in amusement and, then, reached over to ruffle the baby's hair playfully.
"You can be a pretty cute kid sometimes."
Stewie rolled his eyes and turned his back to him as he began rummaging around in his toybox. Brian took that as his cue to leave. He turned back towards the door and proceeded out of the room with a big smile on his face, leaving Stewie to do whatever it was he did when he was alone.
Brian took a seat at the table just before Lois lowered a bowl of chili in front of him, her eyes cast away from him. Brian stared at her back as she retreated to her own seat. Chris was sitting in between them, and the dog couldn't decide if he was disappointed or relieved.
There would be no chance for a hand squeeze or quiet, private word to smoothe over the tension that had arisen earlier, but at the same time, sitting there almost shoulder to shoulder might be almost as awkward right now. It was that "touch me not" aura that Lois put up around herself, much to her husband's consternation. Every little moment that they'd had like this since their marriage, moments when Lois would grow distant, snapping at him or turning cold when he attempted to increase their intimacy, had been a moment that would pass. Take its time to make Brian feel bad, and then, before you knew it, they would be back to friendly terms.
But only friendly. They got passed their moments of friction, but things never got better. Brian was patient. Brian was kind. But he didn't know what to say to his wife, didn't know what to do for her, that would make her more comfortable receiving physical affection from him.
So maybe it was for the best that she stay over there.
"Brian?" Her voice broke into his unpleasant thoughts. It was sweet-toned. He looked over at her, and she looked almost...conciliatory. "Are you alright? You should eat your chili while it's still hot."
The canine blinked down at his bowlful of food. It did look good. His eyes did a quick survey around the table. It was by all appearances an average family dinner. Brian had to act normal, too. Two out of the three kids knew nothing about his and Lois's...lack of marital harmony earlier. And, as Stewie had pointed out, his opinion was what it had always been, so what the baby might be thinking really didn't matter right now. But when it came to Chris and Meg, better not to call attention to the wrong things.
Brian turned back to his chili, topped with cheese and sour cream and looking delicious.
He took a bite.
It was not.
It was the most impossibly bland chili he'd ever eaten.
Nevertheless, a compliment to the chef was on the tip of his tongue when Chris started speaking.
"So, guess what, Mom, Brian?" he excitably croaked out.
"What is it, sweetie?" asked Lois.
"Yeah, tell us all about it, sport," Brian chimed in cheerfully.
"I was delivering the paper to old Mr. Herbert this morning, and he was waiting for me out by the sidewalk…"
"Oh, boy, here we go…" Stewie muttered an interruption.
"And he said he had a special job for me!"
"I bet he did," said the infant.
"Well, he didn't say it exactly like that," Chris informed them all. "But he was talking about all the work he needs to have done around the house, and how he'd be willing to pay a pretty penny to any strapping young man who could help him with his chores. And after I found out that he wasn't really offering only a penny to do all that work, I said I'd take the job!"
Brian was impressed by the initiative his eldest stepson had shown in being interested in such a big responsibility, even if he was somewhat wary, too.
"Wow, are you sure you're ready for a job like that, Chris?"
"Did you really think he was only going to pay you one cent?" asked Stewie, eyes half-lidded, voice monotone.
Chris chose to answer his baby brother first, while Lois looked confused and Meg stared into her chili.
"Actually, at first," he started, his demeanor apparently embarrassed, self-consciously twiddling chubby thumbs out in front of himself, "I thought he might mean a girl named Penny." He laughed. "That would be sweet! But Mr. Herbert was horrified by the very thought." The teen's eyes went wide.
"Hmmm," Stewie hummed, half-interestedly. "I've always liked the name Penelope."
"But, yeah, no sweat, Brian," Chris said confidently, turning toward the dog. "I got this. I promise. I'm eager to get started, because I wanna earn money for a new bike! I saw this one bike, in a window downtown, my friends all think it's totally kickass, too, with flames on it, and- "
"Oh, my god, who the hell cares?!" Meg suddenly spoke out, her spoon clattering against her chili bowl. "Are we really going to talk about you getting a new bike? You already have a bike! But bikes are lame, anyway. I can drive a car! I have a license! And there's a car sitting rusting in the driveway, doing nobody any good, when I could be driving it!" She threw her hands up in the air as she ranted, and leaned across the table, a challenge in her eyes as she stared at her mother.
Lois exhaled loud and long. "Again with this?" She had clearly been made irritable already by her daughter bringing up this subject. Brian recalled that he'd gone over the car issue with his wife once, very briefly, after Meg first voiced her request. After getting a little snippy at her daughter, Lois had seemed mostly disinterested in the issue when speaking to Brian, only saying that she'd think about Meg having her own car, but that Peter's old one would have to be inspected first. The dog had deferred to her, and now, he was surprised to hear the anger in her tone.
"C'mon, Meg, get off my case!" the woman said. "You've been harassing me for months about this now. And after our last conversation, I thought you understood- "
Brian interrupted. "Last conversation?" He didn't even know that Meg had continued to ask her mom for the car. "Should I have maybe been a part of that?"
The force of Lois's sudden glare took him aback. "No," she said shortly, before addressing Meg again.
"It's summertime, you're going to be joyriding around in that thing, and we talked about the gas and the maintenance- "
"I didn't know she wanted it that badly," the canine mentioned. "If she's been asking for it ever since- "
Everybody seemed to be having trouble getting a complete thought out. Lois gave a coarse laugh.
"So she's been asking for it. You clearly don't know much about being a parent, Brian, they'll bug the crap out of ya for any little thing, and- "
Brian sat, wounded, while Meg argued, "I wouldn't joyride in it! I don't even have any friends to joyride with! There's this big, blowout BBQ party next weekend that practically every kid at school got invited to, but not me! I just want to have one cool thing about me! I want to have a car! Dad's car's not even cool, so if you're worried about it being a gas-guzzling boat that's not safe enough, why don't we sell it, and then we can put the money toward a new car- "
"THAT IS YOUR FATHER'S CAR!" Lois roared, actually standing from the table, banging her fists down on it and shaking their dishes. The entire family then fell silent. Brian could hear Lois breathing heavily. For the canine, it was like his wife had just been yelling in Spanish. A half-remembered language he'd learned the basics of in younger years. Now, his knowledge of it was definitely fuzzy, and while he felt like he should be able to figure out Lois's words, their larger meaning was lost on him, and he was left sitting there in stupefaction.
She seemed rather self-conscious now, his lovely wife. She was rubbing her arm in what looked like an embarrassed, unconscious movement, and then she looked at Brian with guilt written all over her face. Brian opened up his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Lois waited for him for a couple of moments, then sat primly back down, clearing her throat.
"How does everyone like their chili?" she asked amiably.
Brian's brain finally found itself able to string together the words that his still-open mouth was ready to let out. Unfortunately, they were these:
"I wish it was a little spicier."
He could have slapped himself, but the kids, who evidently didn't care about returning the dinner to a civil mood, all nodded in unison and muttered their agreement. If Lois had been determined, a minute ago, to be more sensitive toward Brian, that desire must have vanished.
"Oh. I'm so sorry, honey," said Lois tonelessly. "I thought that spicy foods were bad for dogs." She stood up again, and this time, quickly left the room.
"She's a fucking liar," Stewie informed the remaining diners. "She always makes this bland shit."
Brian aimed a reproving gaze at him, which the baby responded to with perfect equanimity. He swung his feet, carefree, out in front of his highchair, and hummed cheerfully.
"Aren't we a happy, happy family?"
Irregardless of anybody's happiness, they all gathered in the living room to watch T.V. after dinner like many a night. Brian and Lois even held hands. Well, Brian had followed her onto the couch, snagging a seat beside her, and gotten up the nerve, after a few minutes, to grab her hand. She hadn't fought it.
It was sitcom night on the channel they'd chosen, which was good for some mild laughs. The shows were kind of lame, but they were easy to watch while digesting dinner, and quite possibly no one wanted to have to concentrate very much on a show right now.
The dog gave only half his attention as a couple of mindless half hour comedies rolled past. Most of the rest of his attention was with the limp handhold he was sharing with his wife. He would've brooded more on that, however, if he wasn't already exhausted from the day, and so he let the remaining portion of his brain rest, focusing on nothing in particular at all.
He began to zone out a little less when a sitcom he'd never seen before came on and was actually sort of charming. The main characters were a young couple just starting out in marriage. The two actors had great chemistry together. They really sold that their characters were in love. What's more, the writing on the show was pretty strong, making the various relationships shine, while also being rather funny at times. The canine genuinely chuckled a few times.
The basis of the episode was really simple, seeing the wife trying to impress her husband by entering a baking contest, only to worry that she was outclassed by the competition. In addition, the fact that she'd made it to the final stage in the competition was meant to be a surprise to him, so she had to devise a way to lure him to the spot without letting him know what was going on. Unfortunately, the husband thought she was trying to hint that he should help out his friend with a crazy business scheme, since that friend happened to be showcasing his goods at a business fair going on at the same venue as the baking contest.
Brian couldn't help but regard it as an old fashioned type of show, but he was okay with that. He liked lots of old fashioned things, after all. He found himself invested in the episode's resolution, hoping the husband would make it across the hall to the room his wife was in so he could see her up on stage. When the husband character- let's face it, inevitably- wound up in the right place at the right time, Brian actually hissed out, "Yesss!" and pumped his fist in the air.
It wasn't until he settled down that he realized he was no longer holding Lois's hand. And her hands were now folded in her lap.
The episode's tag had the happy couple back at home. The young wife had only taken honorable mention in the contest, but the husband assured her, "I'd rather have your muffins than anyone else's." The live studio audience oooo'd suggestively, despite the cheesy joke, and then, as the episode closed out, the dog briefly questioned his opinion about the show being old fashioned, when the main couple shared a surprisingly sultry kiss, arms locked around each other in a full-body embrace.
"Hmph," Lois muttered. "Either those are two of the best actors on T.V. today, or their real-life spouses better be worried."
"Well, I don't know about the girl," Stewie chimed in. "But Rowan Perkins isn't married. ...Not that I follow his personal life or anything, of course. Or his early career, modeling underwear."
Brian sighed deeply, watching disinterestedly as a series of commercials played across the screen. He even missed the opening of the next show, because he was still back there with the previous one. It had given him a warm feeling in his heart, but kind of an empty feeling in his gut. Considering the food he'd just had had been all but flavorless, but had still been food that he'd eaten, he couldn't chalk the feelings up to heartburn and hunger. He was left pining, because of a stupid sitcom relationship. He was envious of a stupid sitcom romance.
How that fictional couple had appeared to love each other… And want each other…
On the television screen, a family was eating at McBurgertown, and Brian was reminded of his wedding reception. He recalled the blissful feelings of that day. It hadn't been the most elegant dinner, but he'd been filled with hope that day, for a happy future with his dream woman.
Driving back to the house afterward, with his new bride by his side in the passenger seat...and the rest of the family in the back...tin cans rattling against the road from where they were tied on the back bumper...it was all Brian could do to keep himself under control. Quite frankly, it had been embarrassing. He felt like whenever somebody looked at him, they'd be able to tell he was aroused. He did all he could to keep his thoughts under regulation and keep that part of his anatomy from giving away where his mind was at, but still. He'd felt like it'd shown all over his face. The wedding was over. He liked to think that she was now Mrs. Griffin not because of Peter, but because of him. That logic might be a little murky, but the fact remained. They were married. The next event he had to look forward to was the wedding night.
Boy, that had turned out...not as he had hoped.
A thumping bass and flashing red lights brought Brian's mind back to the present, and his eyes back to the T.V. He felt those eyes widen at the sight of a beautiful woman, rolling around on a bed in her lingerie. Her hair was tousled, and the camera zoomed in on the ample cleavage her bra was boosting up. The bass sounds came from the background music, a type of club track that went along with the bright flashes of pulsing light. The sound of feminine moaning was heard at one point over said music, and the camera panned over the curve of the woman's ass next, it rising up from the mattress as she lay on her stomach, a pretty little hill Brian would love to...plant his flag on top of.
The commercial actress flashed a naughty, toothy grin at the camera, and the logo for the lingerie store came on, signaling the end of the ad. The dog snapped out of the apparent trance he'd been in, and cleared his throat self-consciously. He looked around at the family. Chris was sitting slack-jawed.
"That. Was. HOT!" the teen shouted, when he'd picked his jaw up off the floor, while Lois tutted in disapproval.
"I swear, some of the stuff they put on T.V. these days might as well be straight-up porn."
The canine thought his wife seemed a little agitated.
"Not to mention they present an unrealistic body image," Meg put forth, to which her mother scoffed.
"Do you even try, Meg? How do you know it's unrealistic?"
"I thought it was quite saucy!" Stewie chirped, and the dog turned to look at the toddler, who was seated on the floor near to the couch, staring up at his stepfather and smirking. "Break me...break me off a piece of that!" he added, pretty unconvincingly. "I think Pop liked that one." The smirk grew. "Didn't you, Pop?"
Brian didn't reply. His wife was sitting so close to him. So close, and yet so far. He suddenly realized he could smell her perfume, and it was intoxicating. The dog felt a familiar tension below his waist. He started to bounce his knee nervously. His body felt like it was buzzing. He peered at Lois out of the corner of his eye, and knew it was an electricity she didn't feel. It was beyond awkward to be sitting next to her like this, right now. He was starting to get flop sweat. Meanwhile, what wasn't floppy was… Well, things were starting to get hard for him.
He didn't know what to do. Waiting it out didn't seem to be an option. The canine couldn't remember the last time he felt this desperate. He fidgeted, frantic to do something, say something…
"I'll be in the basement!" he declared, hearing the words come out in almost a yelp, and practically vaulting up out of his seat. He didn't look back at any of them as he fled the room. He closed the door behind him before rushing down the stairs and having a seat on the old couch that had been down there for who knows how long, taking a moment to sigh in relief as he finally let himself go. His cock slipped out of his sheath, and he was fully erect in no time.
Jesus Christ…
He reached out to touch himself, moaning before his paw ever even made contact and then hissing as he wrapped his fingers around the shaft. It was so sensitive and hard and throbbing. He couldn't remember the last time he was this fucking horny. How long had it been since he'd had sex? Months? Fuck! He hadn't had sex in months! And during all that time, he'd kept himself from masturbating because he was so sure that he'd be getting some from Lois soon. Well, he couldn't hold back any longer.
God, I just need to cum!
He started moving his paw up and down his length, barely able to stand the intense sensation it caused to course through his body. He shivered and closed his eyes, breathing heavily as an image of Lois appeared to him. It wasn't like he had ever seen her, though. No, she was wearing some incredibly sexy black lingerie that Brian had seen in the closet, time and time again. Oh, how he yearned for her to wear that lingerie for him…
Dammit!
He fell to his back and started bucking his hips up against his own grip frantically as he pictured her sitting between his legs, smiling up at him saucily as she jerked him good.
"Mmmmm. Yeah, baby, jack that cock. You want this cock, don't you?"
She nodded.
"Oh, yesssssss, honey. I want your BIG dick inside me so bad."
The dog chuckled.
"Good. Because you're gonna get it. Put it in your mouth."
She did.
And that's all it took.
"Fuuuuuuuck!"
The canine began convulsing as he came hard, shooting several ropes of hot, sticky cum up into the air. It landed everywhere from the floor to the couch to the nearby wall to on him, and the entire time, all he saw was white as he struggled to catch his breath. When his orgasm finally started to subside, he found that he was completely exhausted, much more exhausted than he should have been for cumming so quickly. He laid there, paw still firmly around his softening wood as he panted for breath. After a few moments, he opened his eyes and observed the mess he had made all over the area, including himself.
Shit…
He had no idea how he was going to clean this up without anyone finding out.
"Brian?!"
The dog shot up into a sitting position as he looked over to see Lois standing halfway up the steps. His jaw dropped as he struggled for something to say, for the words to explain, but he knew there was no explaining. The evidence was pretty much everywhere.
"L-Lois…"
The woman's eyes were wide, and she ran back to shut the door behind her before turning back to address the canine in a harsh whisper.
"What the hell are you doing?! What if one of the kids had come down to check on you instead of me?!"
Brian looked down at the floor, feeling guilty.
"I-I didn't think about that…"
Lois folded her arms over her chest and glared at him.
"Well, obviously. Look at you! At this mess! Jesus, Brian!"
The dog didn't say anything, just continued to hang his head. The woman sighed.
"I'll...I'll bring you a wet cloth. Wait down here."
With that, she left, leaving Brian alone to get lost in his thoughts as he sat in the evidence of his passion. He felt dirty, and not just because he actually was pretty dirty now...and sticky, but also because Lois had a point. He had been so focused on getting off that he hadn't considered the possibility of anyone coming down while he pleasured himself. For God's sake, there was a lock on the basement door! There was just no excuse!
Nice, Brian… You're such a great role model…
...He'd have to remember to lock it next time.
Lois was back with a cloth fairly quickly. She walked down the stairs and tossed it to him, turning to look away as Brian began cleaning himself. Having her do that only served to intensify the dog's own shame. He tried to clean up quickly but he lacked the energy to do that, so it took some time. All the while, his wife stood there, tapping her foot impatiently with her arms crossed, so obviously disgusted and displeased. It broke his heart…
"I'm...sorry."
Lois didn't answer for a while, but after a few seconds she replied.
"Are you going to be doing this often?"
Brian didn't know how to respond to that as he finished wiping up the last of the semen that he could from his fur. He reached back to wipe away a strand that had landed on the wall as he thought about it. He was pretty sure he would be down here from time to time, from now on. At least for a good while because he if had been getting close to some kind of intimacy from Lois then he'd just set himself way back, after this incident. She didn't even want to look at him… He sighed but it almost came out as a whimper, the kind of sound any other dog would probably make if they had done wrong and been caught.
"I...I'm going to need to be alone down here sometimes…"
Once again, Lois didn't say anything, didn't even make a sound as he set to work trying his best to clean up the couch and make it presentable. He had told the truth. He couldn't wait for her, anymore. If he needed to...release some tension, then that's what he had to do. He couldn't put himself in the state he had just been in again. It was torture.
"Well, from now on, make sure you lock the door. I'll make sure that nobody interrupts you. You also have to...make sure you can get rid of the evidence."
He saw her shiver slightly before continuing.
"You're better than this. You're not just any other animal, so don't fucking act like it. It's sad."
Brian nodded his head, agreeing with her. He wasn't going to argue against that point. He was quite disappointed in himself. This whole situation was downright depressing. He got down and started cleaning the floor.
"I know. I just...couldn't take it anymore. I won't let myself get to that point again. I'm sorry you had to see it. I'm sorry I disappointed you."
He finished and stood up, holding the soiled rag. Lois must have sensed that he was done because she turned around and looked at him with an expression mixed in anger and what Brian read as...pity.
"I'm going to go make sure everyone is getting settled for the night. Put on a load of laundry and...put that in with it."
And without waiting for him to respond, she hurried back up the stairs and out of the basement. Brian went to move but found that he couldn't. He was frozen in place, still trying to fully comprehend what had happened in the last few minutes. It felt like so much longer than that.
Way to go, Brian…
He felt moisture in his eyes starting to build up but gritted his teeth against it, shaking his head and wiping the unshed tears away.
"No."
He wasn't going to just stand here and feel sorry for himself. He'd done what he'd done. Nothing could take it back. He could only do better in the future. He needed to get moving, get this laundry going so that he could get back upstairs and into bed.
Into bed...next to Lois.
He gulped, nervousness rattling through him. He didn't think he could bear to see her again, right now, and as he finally started moving over toward the basket of dirty laundry that was sitting by the washing machine he had the vague idea that he might just be better off sleeping on the couch tonight.