Chapter 6: "I'll Be in the Basement.": The Aftermath
Aaaaaaahhh!
The child froze, terror shooting up through his tiny body. He hadn't meant to groan out loud, but he just couldn't help it. What he was witnessing here was just too much. Too. Fucking. Hot. Even knowing he was most certainly caught, he still couldn't keep himself from reaching down to rub at the front of his sleeper, eagerly seeking that firm pressure against his groin.
The dog shot up, still clutching his member as his eyes frantically scanned the room. It didn't take long for his gaze to land on the infant who was peeking out from the boxes across the room. The breath caught in his throat as he gasped.
"St-Stewie..?"
The boy didn't know what to say to his stepdoggy, so he didn't say anything, just remained where he was. Rubbing himself. Staring at the dog with a hint of desperation. And, for a while, that was all they did, just stare at each other. Brian kept his paw firmly around his length. He appeared to be giving it a squeeze every few seconds or so. All the while, Stewie just stayed there, eyes fixated on that paw, mouth dry, hand petting himself diligently. After gulping audibly, the canine finally spoke.
"Y-You… You saw everything...didn't you?"
Stewie's breath hitched as he took a step out from behind the boxes, towards Brian, while nodding his head. Brian sighed and shook his head.
"You weren't… You weren't supposed to see this…"
The boy took another step forward.
"I...I'm glad I did."
The words probably shocked Stewie more than they shocked Brian, and from the look on the dog's face, they obviously shocked him a VERY great deal. He gulped again.
"Y-You should… You should go!"
The baby took a few more steps.
"But… But I don't want to go."
He squeezed his little member and hissed, hoping the dog understood what it was he was driving at.
"I want to stay here with you. Look what you've done to me."
He reached the couch and climbed up to sit beside his dumbfounded pet.
"It feels good. I never knew it could feel so good."
He shifted onto his hands and knees and crawled towards the animal, resting his hands on the canine's thighs as he gazed into his stricken eyes.
"I want to keep feeling good. Help me feel good, Brian."
Their faces were mere inches apart, and the dog seemed like he was about to pull away. But, he didn't. Instead, his gaze softened, expression growing contemplative as he reached out and placed his free paw over one of the boy's hands.
"Oh, Stewie…"
"Stewie!"
The boy's eyes shot open, immediately emerging from deep slumber as he heard his name being exclaimed. He looked over and saw Brian standing by his crib, jaw hanging open and eyes flicking back and forth like he was hesitant to look down at him. For a brief second, the infant was deeply confused.
"Brian? What are you…"
Then, he felt a chill, and it suddenly hit him as he began to recall all of the events from last night. His cheeks grew hot, and despite having been naked in front of Brian before without a care in the world, the boy rushed to cover himself with his blanket, feeling oh so embarrassed. A few moments later, the canine seemed to recover from his shock as he finally focused his eyes on the infant in the crib.
"Why the hell were you…were you naked, Stewie?"
For a brief second, the child was speechless, but being quite the prideful individual, it didn't take long for Stewie to adapt his usual carefree attitude, even if his heart was pounding rapidly and his head was swimming. He still felt embarrassed, but he knew he couldn't let Brian know, couldn't dare give him even the slightest hint. The child rolled his eyes.
"What's it matter? Haven't you heard? Sleeping nude is actually quite healthy, not that you would bother keeping up with such things."
The baby folded his arms over his chest and shot the dog a scolding look. Brian just tilted his head, not really seeming that phased.
"Uhh, ok. So, this is like a thing you do now? Didn't think I would appreciate hearing about this sooner so I didn't come in here and see you buck ass naked?"
The tension was dying down, and Stewie knew that, if it didn't run the risk of giving his true emotions away, he would gladly exhale a sigh of relief. It was so much easier to think when he wasn't on the verge of panic.
"Oh, come on, Brian. As if it was that bad. It's not exactly something you haven't seen before. What? You need to brace yourself?"
He chuckled.
"Your heart can't take it?"
This comment definitely earned a rise out of his favorite doggy. Brian's eyes widened and he shot back.
"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?!"
Stewie chose to ignore the question, though, only offering a simple shrug before batting his hand.
"I need to get dressed. You're welcome to stay and watch, but I wouldn't want to risk giving you a heart attack."
Brian stammered for something to say in response before finally just groaning.
"Whatever, Stewie. Hurry up. The museum opens soon, so we need to get going. I'll be downstairs."
And, the dog was apparently alright with just leaving things at that as he turned to leave the room. Once he was gone, the boy reached up to wipe his forehead as he finally released that relieved sigh.
Talk about a close call.
A close call to what, Stewie wasn't exactly sure.
The baby tossed his blanket to the side and hopped out of his crib. For a little while there, he had actually forgotten his plans with Brian for the day due to the shock of waking up naked in front of stepdoggy, but after hearing the dog mention the museum, he actually found himself in a bit of a rush to get dressed and downstairs. He was still excited to go, despite the events from the night before. Things were sure to be awkward, though...
The infant was in the process of buttoning his overalls but stopped at that thought.
Awkward.
Not for Brian but for him. After all, Brian didn't know who had been watching him last night. ...Who had taken pleasure in what they'd seen… The boy shivered.
So much pleasure.
That sensation below his waist was returning. He shifted his legs, trying to relieve that pressure which was now causing him quite a bit of discomfort. It only helped a little bit, and it took everything in him to not reach down and touch the front of his pants. God, this was frustrating… Was this how things were going to be, now? Was he doomed to become aroused at the thought of Brian, even during the most inopportune of times? He shouldn't have to deal with this!
And why is this happening with fucking Brian, anyway?!
He'd found plenty of people attractive before, but none of them had ever had the effect on him that the damn dog did. Of course, he'd never seen such a blatant sexual display, either.
Wait.
That was it. It wasn't Brian that aroused him, right? Of course not. He laughed. It was just… It was just the ACT he had witnessed. It could have been anyone, really.
It was an answer that satisfied Stewie, explained everything nice and neatly, nothing to worry about.
...It was a shame he didn't believe it for a second.
Because, while he had never seen anyone doing what Brian had done, he still knew he had seen plenty of things that he would consider sexy, and he'd never ONCE gotten...hard, as he had heard said to describe an erect penis.
There was also that whole thing about actually wanting Brian specifically to touch him last night.
Stewie felt a chill go up his spine as his arousal intensified.
Dammit to hell!
He reached into his pocket to adjust himself before finally buttoning his overalls. He had a lot to think about. Though he absolutely hated to admit ignorance about any subject, he knew there was plenty about this topic that he was still unaware of. He needed to learn more, find out how all of this was supposed to work and hopefully find a way to stop going stiff at the mere thought of his best friend.
It's getting hot in here.
So take off all your clothes.
Brian slammed the radio off and shook his head.
"Never anything good on."
Stewie nodded his head, not necessarily agreeing that nothing on the radio was ever good, but approving of the canine's swift dismissal of that overplayed club track.
The two of them were in the Prius, on their way to the Children's Science Museum in Providence. They hadn't said much to each other. Well, Brian had been plenty talkative when they first started driving, but Stewie, despite trying, was finding it hard to keep a conversation going. It didn't take long for the dog to quiet down and begin searching for something to listen to, only to find nothing he cared for.
Now, there was silence.
Honestly, Stewie felt a little bad. He didn't want Brian to think that he was ignoring him because that was FAR from the truth, and he didn't want the canine to feel bad at the start of what was supposed to be a fun day for them.
Just for us…
Stewie smiled.
"Thanks for taking me."
The dog looked over at him and smiled back.
"You're welcome, kid."
Silence again, but at least it was a much more comfortable silence, a stark contrast to the discomfort Stewie was feeling as he wiggled around in his carseat. His little problem from earlier had proved to be quite persistent, unfortunately. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't quite pull his mind completely away from the events of last night. He wasn't really caught up in the concerns from earlier. He had resolved to deal with all that later because he really did want to enjoy this trip.
...But the images were still there...and that was enough.
He reached down to grab at himself but stopped, gritting his teeth.
No! Don't! It's not a long drive. You can get through this, Stewart!
"Hey."
The dog's voice broke through his thoughts and pulled him back to reality. He turned to look over at Brian, showing he was listening.
"Let's, uh, let's play a game or something."
The child blinked, curiosity taking hold.
"A game? What kind of game?"
The dog shrugged.
"You know, there are all kinds of games you can play in the car. A traveling game. You wanna play a traveling game?"
Stewie kind of knew what Brian was driving at. Though, at the moment, no games in particular were coming to mind.
"Uh, sure. Did you have any particular game in mind?"
Brian didn't answer right away, obviously contemplating his response before finally grinning and snapping his fingers.
"Oh! I know a pretty good one."
The canine pointed at a car in front of them.
"You're supposed to read the license plates."
The child tilted his head, slightly confused. That didn't sound like much of a game, but he decided to give it a try. He looked at the car's license plate and read it.
"R.K.Y. R.D."
Stewie shrugged.
"Ok. Now what?"
Brian shook his head.
"No. Not like that. READ it. See, that one says 'Rocky Road'. Here, I'll do the next one."
They drove just a little ways more, the canine's eyes casting about for a suitable license plate, before all at once he snickered.
"Okay, okay!" Brian leaned slightly toward the passenger side and pointed at a car ahead of them and to the right. "H.0.3. M.B.L. It's not perfect, but with a little work…"
Stewie suddenly laughed and clapped his hands together. "Oh! Hoe mobile! How deliciously droll! Alright, I get it! I get what you're going for." He began looking for license plates, too. Before long he spotted another one.
"Ok, so we have 0.0.7. B.V.D."
He turned his head to look over at Brian.
"Buuuuut, with a little creative thinking 0.0.7. can be 007 which can be James Bond, and BVD is a brand of men's underwear. Sooooo, that one can basically be read as James Bond's underwear!"
The infant giggled at the statement, and Brian chuckled, as well.
"Uh, yeah. Sure. I guess that works. Interesting thought process there, Stewie."
"Just working with what they gave me," said Stewie cheerfully, none too defensive, though he may have blushed a little on the inside. Brian gave a celebratory cry of discovery and hastened to point out,
"And there- 5.X.Y. L.D.Y.- we have a sexy lady."
The boy cocked his head and shrugged. "Eh, kinda. Let's see…"
He scanned his eyes over the cars on the road. It took a little while before he finally found another that stuck out to him. He nudged the dog's shoulder.
"Ah. Here we are. 0.0.1. R.V.R."
Brian blinked and scratched his head.
"Ok. What's that one?"
The child gave the canine a playful wink as he replied.
"Why, number one rover, of course."
Brian's look of bemusement changed into a surprised but rather flattered one, and it warmed Stewie's heart. Even the dog's eyes seemed to be smiling, in the moment before he shifted his attention back to the road and the other cars traveling down it.
After perhaps half a minute, Stewie's stepdoggy cleared his throat and gave a chuckle. He seemed almost reluctant to raise his paw and use a digit to indicate a car that was currently passing them.
1.Q.T. P.Y.E., it read.
"One cutie pie," said Brian, watching the license plate travel away from them.
Stewie could have sworn that his heart stopped for a brief second as a blush rushed to his cheeks. He quickly turned his head away, hoping to conceal it.
"Well… I guess… I guess it can be read that way, can't it."
The child was so flustered that he found it difficult to focus on the task of finding his next plate. Luckily, despite not seeing a good license plate for their little game, what the child did see was their destination coming up down the road. Before long, they were parking, and Brian was leaning over to undo him from his car seat. They both hopped out, and as Stewie took the dog's hand, he found that he was able to walk more comfortably than he had since first waking up.
And here we are coming up on a whole building full of distractions. We're going to have a buttload of good, clean fun today, thought the baby, with happy and relieved satisfaction.
Carefree, they made their way inside, stopping at a little window, behind which an attendant at a desk sold them admissions wristbands. From there, it was through a turnstile and into a world of "educational" delights.
Still clutching the dog's paw, Stewie looked around at the handful of other children who were at the museum that day- and the adults who accompanied them. Everyone seemed smiley and in good spirits. The boy had to assume this was one of those "wholesome family fun" outings that was deemed so good for kids, and as he contentedly proceeded across the linoleum floor with his stepdoggy, he reflected that he'd never before felt like such a normal kid, enjoying a normal childhood afternoon.
Before they even got to the first exhibit, Brian and Stewie came upon the gift shop, which made the dog scoff and grumble about how capitalism wasted no time in trying to profit off you, no matter where you were.
"That's what all the cheapskate dads say," Stewie bandied back, his tone light and teasing, and while the canine warned, "Watch it," he did so with a slight smile, and added that if Stewie was good, he could have one souvenir, within reason, before they left.
"I'll be as good as gold!" the infant vowed sunnily, and they made their way to exhibit number one.
"Well, this is promising," said Stewie drily, his excitement dimming a bit. He read the sign on the exhibit. "How do magnets work?" He clapped his hands on either side of his face and feigned a confounded expression. "Why, I simply don't know!"
"Okay, fine, so they don't exactly know how to lure people in with the big guns…" began his stepdoggy, to which the boy replied eagerly,
"Are there going to be big guns here? Because if the other exhibits don't improve, I may have to use them on myself before the end of the day."
Brian frowned. "Not funny." He tugged on the boy's hand. "C'mon. They probably just put the basic stuff up front so they don't overload the kids who aren't super geniuses with too much knowledge right away. We'll find some better stuff."
The plasma globe at least made Stewie giggle as he and Brian ran their fingers over the surface and made various spidery designs of electric light appear and contort. They moved on next to the Van de Graaf generator, and the boy giggled harder to see Brian's white fur stand all on end. There was even a station set up across from it, where you could set a timer on a camera to take a picture of you in five seconds, so it captured and spit out an image of you under the effects of the Van de Graaf generator.
Holding onto his photo like a prized possession while his other hand rested in Brian's, Stewie then found himself in front of an exhibit which boasted that it could show him what it was like to walk on the moon. After reading a poster talking briefly about space and zero gravity, the dog and boy wandered out onto some kind of bouncy, spongy material, dotted here and there with foam-like "space rocks". Moving around on the surface of the "moon" was like walking on a trampoline, and Stewie and Brian held hands while jumping up and down, laughing together.
"This is totally factually inaccurate, but I don't care!" shouted the infant, exhilarated.
After that came a type of playhouse that was shaped like a rocket. They stepped inside and found another camera. It snapped a picture of the two as they examined the replica of a control panel, and again as they looked at a screen, fashioned to look like a window, which played some footage of planets, asteroids, and comets as if they were really rocketing through space.
"An Egyptian exhibit!" Stewie exclaimed when they emerged from the rocket ship, and they hurried over. While Stewie played with a pad of paper and some stamps featuring hieroglyphics, Brian read allowed from a poster that explained the process of embalming. He shuddered throughout, and even the sometimes-psychotic infant winced once or twice. They spent some time staring at a dummy wrapped up like a Mummy and took a photo by it.
Stewie was about to skip off to the next exhibit, but the dog held him back and indicated that they had accidentally passed one up on the way to the mummy and hieroglyphics. No wonder, as it looked like a restroom, or perhaps an entrance for employees only- it was, in fact, behind a closed door. A sign, however, informed them that through that door was an astronomy exhibit: a simulation of the night sky.
"How about we do this one," Brian suggested, "and then we go get some lunch, okay? This place has its very own cafeteria, and they do foods from around the world."
The pair entered a dark room, lit only by lights in the floor similar to a movie theater. It was empty apart from several benches and the families that filled a couple.
Brian and Stewie looked at each other and shrugged.
They chose a bench next to that of a young family with two children. There was a little girl of about five years old, and the mother was holding a baby to her chest- a boy, judging by the way he was dressed- and was gently bouncing him, while she and his father clucked over him and tried to get him to stop fussing.
"I think he's a little young for this museum," whispered Brian to Stewie. "I don't know what we're waiting for, and what's supposed to be going on in this exhibit, but I sure hope he doesn't cry through it."
The baby was only quietly sobbing off and on, so Stewie rolled his eyes at Brian's stuffy pessimism, but still, he rather shared his stepdoggy's hopes. All the same, he offered up to the canine:
"You know we cry out of existential angst."
Brian raised his eyebrows. "Really?"
The baby of the young couple beside them soon fell silent, and right after, a voice boomed out from the speakers that must have been installed in the room. It was lucky the fussy baby didn't just immediately start up again.
The voice started talking about the solar system, and stars in particular. All of a sudden, the ceiling became illuminated, with hundreds of lights that looked like stars twinkling overhead. Everyone gasped and oohed and awwed.
"It's beautiful!" exclaimed Stewie, clasping his hands together rapturously.
Constellations soon started being pointed out to the audience, lines of light appearing on the ceiling to connect certain stars like celestial connect-the-dots. The Big Dipper and Little Dipper appeared, and Gemini, the constellation made up of the brothers Romulus and Remus.
"Raised by wolves," Stewie said, educating Brian.
In actuality, the children's museum's simulation of the night sky and its stars was pretty realistic. Stewie considered himself to be a harsh critic on just about everything, but even he was suitably impressed. Judging by their reactions, the rest of the star gazers were in agreement. The little crowd was silent but for their murmurs of surprise and delight. Over on the bench of the neighboring family, the mother had taken her infant son and turned him around, holding him in her lap to see the display. After witnessing this, out of nowhere, formed spontaneously from some mysterious particles Stewie didn't comprehend, a thought coalesced which bewildered him, and then quite plagued him.
What if I were to sit in Brian's lap?
Once he had the thought, the boy couldn't get rid of it. But damned if he could act on it, either. It would have been mortifying to have to explain what he was doing, not that he knew himself. It reminded him of being in the church, rehearsing Lois and the dog's wedding ceremony, and almost kissing Brian. Then, he'd at least had the excuse of being deranged over his opposition to the marriage, but this here, in this little star theater? This was way too earnest of a moment.
There was easy listening music playing under the narration. Stewie hummed to himself and sort of automatically slide over closer to Brian. Once he realized what he was doing, he decided it was a good compromise between doing nothing and climbing into the canine's lap.
"Do you know the story of Cepheus and Cassiopeia?" Brian asked, as the narration was speaking about the constellation of Cassiopeia. His deep voice, rumbling low so near to Stewie in the dark at first startled the tyke, but then he relaxed and soaked in it. Brian's tones were so soothing. He even found himself leaning against the canine's side. "They were a king and a queen. Forever entombed in the sky, after they were killed by the head of Medusa. Their son-in-law, Perseus, used the slain Medusa's head as his trump card to defeat some chump who wanted to steal his wife away from him. But in the process, it also killed his wife's parents."
"That's a beautiful story…" murmured Stewie dreamily.
He felt the dog give a little jump next to him.
"Well," Stewie's stepdoggy barked a surprised, dry laugh. "I don't know about that. The story as a whole has some romance in it, sure. I guess. Like when Perseus met his love, Andromeda, and rescued her from where she was chained to a rock as sea monster bait."
Stewie made a noise of casual argument. "You're using the definition of romance that everybody does. Everybody forgets that it can also refer to anything with the qualities of heroism and adventure."
"I know that!" Brian whispered back a little too forcefully. It made the corners of Stewie's lips turn up. He liked that Brian couldn't let himself be thought ignorant, even by the baby, still. The defensiveness in Brian's voice made the child feel as though things were almost like normal, like they were still friends who could banter and not just stepdoggy and stepson.
"But you weren't talking about romance," continued Brian. "You were talking about beauty."
"What do you know about either?" Stewie retorted, nudging him, looking up at him with an adversarial little smirk.
His stepdoggy removed his gaze from the star-covered ceiling long enough to look back down at Stewie. They made eye contact...and held it. The canine opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but for reasons unknown, those words never came. The moment seemed to become long and drawn-out to Stewie.
Again, his thoughts wandered unbidden to when he had almost kissed Brian in the church. The air had an odd thickness and pressure to it.
"Twinkle, twinkle, little star! How I wonder what you are!"
In unison, Brian's and Stewie's heads snapped around toward the family sitting closest to them, which was where the singing was coming from. It turned out the child initially pinpointed as the likely troublemaker wasn't the one they really should've been worried about. The 5-year-old girl was now singing loudly and off-key, while her little brother sat quietly.
Brian sighed in frustration, but strangely, no one else seemed likewise put-out. From another part of the room, a little boy began to join in the caterwauling. All at once, every parental figure excepting Brian exhaled an "Awww!" and every child who could talk excepting Stewie presumed to sing.
Stewie and Brian looked at each other in the midst of this group sing-along, and then, making the decision together, hopped down from their bench and left the theater hand-in-hand.
"You've got too many pictures to hang onto," the dog declared once they were outside the door. "I'll go get you something from the gift shop to put them in."
"And leave me here alone?" Stewie was caught unawares by Brian's declaration. "Oh, that's responsible." The boy didn't really expect to see his stepdoggy striding off, despite the words the canine had uttered, but as Stewie finished speaking, he was already looking at the back of Brian. The baby watched in minor astonishment as Brian's tail disappeared around a museum case.
This was so unlike the dog's recent behavior that Stewie struggled to make sense of it. Sure, Brian should know that his youngest stepchild could take care of himself more than most people in the world, but then, stepdoggy now gave Stewie all kinds of things that the child didn't strictly need. Carrying him here and there. Those absurd kisses hello and goodbye and goodnight…
Those kisses that sparked against the infant's cheek and made him feel all warm inside.
While waiting for Brian to return, Stewie managed to get distracted by a display on irrigation, where museum guests could push a little button and cause water to flow into a model field. The dog didn't tarry long; he reappeared at the boy's side in probably less than ten minutes, holding onto the little bag he'd bought for Stewie.
But it wasn't just any little bag, Stewie soon discovered…
"You got me a freakin' fanny pack?" the baby gasped in disbelief. He crossed his arms tightly to convey his lack of pleasure. "Not cool, Brian. Very not cool." He disdainfully flicked his finger at the little green pack, emblazoned with the museum's logo.
"Not to mention, it totally clashes with my outfit."
He'd never actually even seen anyone wear a fanny pack before, he'd only heard that they'd fallen out of fashion. He snatched the offending item out of Brian's grasp and gave a beleaguered sigh. The mutt was right, though. This would make it easier for him to carry his pictures.
His face still screwed into an expression of distaste, the child went about putting the fanny pack on. His little hands fiddled with the clasp over his belly, while the zippered sack portion of the accessory rested in the back against his bum.
Thrusting the short stack of photos at Brian, Stewie whirled around and instructed the dog,
"Okay. Stuff my fanny."
The dog coughed loudly, and the next thing the boy knew, two paws landed firmly on his shoulders and spun him back around.
"I think you're a little confused…" Brian muttered, kneeling down and unfastening the fanny pack clasp, his eyes focused on his task. He adjusted the fanny pack so Stewie now wore it front-ways, and zipped the pictures inside. The dog straightened up, smirking at the young child. "Don't ever try to tell me I've got nothing left to teach you."
Stewie huffed and extended a hand, rotating his wrist in a careless gesture. "An invaluable life lesson, I'm sure. Knowing how to properly sport one of these demode contraptions. Does it make any difference? There's no way to wear one without looking like a dork, is there?"
They'd begun walking again, and Brian took Stewie's hand.
"It's something like the difference between knowing your ass from a hole in the ground or not."
"It's called a fanny pack! And yet the pack doesn't go over your fanny?"
It was only a short stroll to the museum cafeteria. As it came into sight, Stewie realized for the first time that he was quite hungry. He rubbed his rumbling tummy as the dog paid for two buffets. Then he patted the fanny pack and informed Brian,
"This better not count as that one souvenir you promised me! Mark my words, there will be hell to pay if my memento is to be this crime against fashion that I didn't ask for."
Brian chuckled and rolled his eyes, giving his assurances that Stewie would still have an item of his choosing.
They both appreciated that several of the buffet lines had counters that were at child height, a nice touch for the type of museum. They loaded their trays and then found seating at a corner table at which to enjoy their international cuisine.
Brian munched a gyro and Stewie started in on some Swedish meatballs and for awhile, there was a comfortable silence. When it was broken, it was just by the dog making some light, polite luncheon conversation.
"So. Kid." He wiped his mouth with a napkin. "How are you enjoying the museum so far?"
"Oh, quite a bit!" Stewie responded brightly, swinging his legs back and forth under the table. "Top drawer effort at child entertaining, Bry. Even for this child." The baby jerked a thumb at himself, even while, at the same time, his brain played catch-up for one of the first times ever. It played catch-up to his mouth, and the diminutive moniker that had just slipped out of it.
'Bry'? Huh? Have I ever called him that before?
Brian didn't outwardly acknowledge anything unusual, only nodded with a smile and replied, "Good." He then got up to make a return trip to the buffet line and sample some more world cuisine.
Stewie's stepdoggy came back scoffing that the cafeteria's Italian selection was just pizza and lasagne, and they shared a quip or two about over-simplifying and lack of authenticity, Brian promising- either seriously or jokingly- to take Stewie to the Olive Garden next time."
"Actually," the canine mused, "doesn't Lois really like that restaurant? Maybe we should make a date night of it." A look of optimism, subtle, but unmistakably there, came onto Brian's features, and it made his baby companion cringe a little bit. To think that maybe the dog's day wasn't really good until he thought of Lois.
"What," Stewie found himself laughing before he'd thought it through, "for you and Lois or for you and me?"
"Oh, ha ha," Brian stated, rather than chuckled, not looking at the boy, but at the slice of rather mediocre-looking pepperoni pizza he was bringing up to his mouth.
"Indeed…" Stewie giggled nervously, bewildered by the apparent tracks his trains of thought were taking today. What fantastical, rollercoaster twisty turns, loops, and plummets of terror had his brain constructed in the wake of last night? Because that had to be it, didn't it?
The child decided he'd take his turn carrying his tray back to the lines of food and reloading it, if mainly to gain some space. While helping himself to a falafel, he turned and looked back to the table, watching Brian with a long strand of cheese connecting his mouth to the slice of pizza. Stewie rolled his eyes at how foolish his stepdoggy looked.
Can't take you anywhere, can I?
Brian's jaws snapped forward at the cheese repeatedly, like when his teeth chomped at the wind while he had his head hanging out the window. Stewie erupted into giggles as the strand of gooey cheese snapped and Brian pulled it in with his tongue.
"Young man?" It was a woman's voice squeaking at him condescendingly much like Lois's was wont to do. Stewie turned to his side and the unknown female bent toward him and asked in a saccharine sweet voice,
"Are you doing okay, little guy? Did you need help with something?"
"Just maybe a little help finding people who can mind their own business," Stewie muttered, giving her the cold shoulder as he turned away and started back to his table. "Sorry I was blocking the way to the moussaka. You do look like someone who enjoys her potatoes."
"A time machine? No, it's really not," the boy jeered, idly spinning the wheel on the abomination of a contraption before him. Brian looked on, and then joined him on the little platform attached to the machine, where visitors were meant to navigate their "journey through time". He pushed the button to start the timer for a picture, and he and Stewie both smiled cheesily as the camera flashed.
"Well, no, of course not," said the dog. He retrieved the photo they'd just taken and handed it to Stewie. "Actual time travel's just the stuff of science fiction right now."
"But not for much longer," his youngest stepchild informed him, zipping the new photo into his fanny pack. He then looked out toward the screen positioned ahead of the platform. With the Providence Children's Museum's erroneously named time machine, visitors could turn a wheel to select different eras throughout American history, and then see footage about scientific achievements of that age play out on a video screen.
Stewie's time machine was going to be the real deal.
The dog's ears perked up. "Really?" He faced Stewie interestedly. "Have you heard something? Is that something you read in, like, a science journal? That they're getting close to perfecting time travel?"
"Well," drawled Stewie, leaning languidly against the wheel, "I don't know if they are, but I most certainly am. I'm working on a time machine right now. I have been for some time. Just a little something to fiddle around with in my spare time."
Brian's jaw dropped, to Stewie's gratification. "W-w-wait, are you actually working on a time machine?"
The baby picked some imaginary lint out from beneath his fingernails as he answered with, "You need to work on your listening skills, Brian. They're sort of essential for a parent, wouldn't you say? Not that your wife ever learned that. But yes. That's clearly what I said. Working on a time machine. Close to finishing it."
His stepdoggy simply stared at him at first, before his shoulders were racked by his chuckles of incredulity. "Wha-what? Almost...almost finished? With a time machine?" His expression said that he didn't believe it to be impossible, but that his mind was still suitably blown. Stewie smiled smugly.
"You're pulling my tail," laughed Brian with a blend of cautiousness and wonder.
"No," said the baby, standing up straight. "But I gladly will." He peered behind Brian, all the better to hide his face from the canine's view, after those words suddenly took on a suggestive quality that he was pretty sure would only occur to himself, but somehow, that made it all the worse.
The dog just chuckled again and backed away, and Stewie's attention was then diverted by an exhibit in the near distance. "For the time being, though, we get to confine ourselves to the journeys through time this fine place has provided. Look, Brian, a dinosaur dig. That could be fun." And with that, he toddled quickly off, with his stepdoggy following in his wake.
Stewie headed over to a section of the museum that had cases of prehistoric fossils lining the walls, but the real showcase seemed to be a giant sandbox in the middle of the floor, where, according to a sign posted, visitors could dig for their own fossil replicas. It urged them to find all the fossils listed on the diagram next to it, which showed all the bones in a T-Rex. Little plastic trowels awaited usage in a bucket outside of the "dig site", but apparently, Brian had no use for these, having already dove in, practically headfirst, and started frantically pawing into the sand.
The boy giggled and shook his head, watching the couple of other kids who were playing in the dig gape in shock at the spectacle his stepdoggy was making. No doubt they hadn't expected to see...well, most of the time, Brian could almost pass for people. Maybe now, growling excitedly and capering through the sand. Chuckling all the while, Stewie snuck over and pushed the button to capture an image of his stepfather, going dog looking for a bone.
It wasn't long before the canine hit pay dirt and came up with what appeared to be part of a tail, and hunkered down over it, holding onto it possessively, beginning to gnaw on it. Stewie flinched a little, not knowing if the dog should be doing this. However, Brian soon stopped what he was doing. He looked disappointed and confused and appeared to run his tongue around the inside of his mouth.
"What the hell? Stewie, this doesn't feel like a real bone."
The child, tsk tsking, approached his furry companion. "Brian, it hardly matters. Those aren't there for you to chew on. Now, stop slobbering over that piece of tail and let it go, because I've got yours." So saying, he gave a tug to the little white tail above his stepdoggy's...posterior.
Brian made an animalistic, offended noise, dropping the fake prehistoric find from his jaws and turning to look at the child. After a beat, he sighed resignedly. "Sorry. You're right. You're right." He put up his hands and backed away from the fake fossil. "It's just...sometimes those urges get the best of me, you know?" He chuckled sheepishly, before pointing accusingly at Stewie. "But you. You crossed a line, too, kid. No yankin' on that." And seeing as how Stewie had let go of him, the dog started to wander away from that exhibit, and so did the baby, after a moment.
In short order, with not much else to look at, they wandered into the gift shop, and Stewie felt his eyes alight at the prospect of getting to pick out something with which to commemorate this day of bonding for a stepdoggy and...son (Stewie inwardly shivered, the thought feeling no less wrong than usual).
"At long last, the prize shall be mine!" he declared, scurrying about the shop and looking at all the museum merchandise. "What's a reasonable spending limit, Dog? A hundred smackers?" he teased. Like there's anything in here even worth a hundred dollars. "Or do you think we'll return home and find your wife has blown a bundle on buying expensive beauty creams?" He half-smiled, as though carelessly. He gave his hand a nonchalant flip, not looking at the canine. "You know, to keep her true, hag identity under wraps? So you continue believing she's still hot enough to trade sexual favors for keeping her saggy ass afloat financially?"
Dead air. The gift shop seemed eerily quiet for an unsettling amount of time. But unsettling why? Since when did Stewie worry about Brian's reactions to any shots he fired at the dog or his pathetic, farce of a life?
"What...what the hell, Stewie?" The mutt didn't even sound angry, mostly. His voice was fairly quiet, enough to be heard across the gift shop, but it seemed to hold...was that?...disappointment, more than anything else, coupled with a little shock. Which was preposterous. Stewie shouldn't be able to shock him anymore, should he?
Come now, Stewart, he was suddenly saying to himself. There was the time machine...and I'm sure there are a couple other recent developments in your life Brian would be surprised to learn about. Or at least one.
"Damn it, why am I snarking to myself?" Stewie wondered to himself in a whisper. Brian was at his side, then, and if that dog didn't hear him, he probably at least saw the blush Stewie was pretty certain was on his face. Though, Brian likely misinterpreted it.
"Well, you should be ashamed of yourself." There was that note of shock again. The two of them stared at each other, and it felt to Stewie like they'd been doing that a lot lately, "I feel like we talked about this." Strangely, Brian spoke with little conviction, and his eyes were round and slightly startled, boring into Stewie's own. They held eye contact in this moment when Stewie wanted eye contact perhaps less than he ever had in his life.
"Can you please just stop making disparaging remarks about my marriage?" Ordinarily, that would have come out as more of a demand than a request, despite the 'please', but a notion struck Stewie just then, as he looked at his stepdoggy's face. Brian the aspiring authority figure was gone for the moment, and they were almost equals again. This wasn't about a conflict between stepfather and son; this was a brief moment of understanding between friends.
This was an acknowledgment, however subtle, of Stewie being right about something. Of course, that didn't mean Stewie was going to honor Brian's request. He just couldn't, even if he wanted to. Before, he'd promised to make it easier on the dog by not allowing his hatred of the union to dominate their daily lives, but that didn't mean he'd never say a single critical thing about the whole damn thing.
He turned away from Brian. Luckily, he turned right toward a distraction.
"I'm getting this coloring book," he announced, swiping it up off a shelf and without waiting for a response (or a demand that he answer the question), the baby scuttled toward the cash register. He wasn't just looking for an opportunity to be evasive, however; the coloring book really did look like a good one, he thought, running his fingers over the glossy cover.
The cover had, in its background, several of the exhibits he'd seen here at the children's museum: the so-called "time machine" and the plasma globe, to name a couple. Up front and center, the largest picture was of a T-rex skeleton. Stewie idly petted the dead dino's tail as he waited at the register for Brian.
In about a half an hour's time, the pair arrived back at home, after a mostly silent return trip. Stewie had spent that time simply staring out the passenger side window, clutching his new coloring book, lost in his own head. He'd been so caught up in thought that he only just barely registered the car stopping after it pulled up in the Griffin house driveway. Brian parked the car, and the child jumped a little in his seat when he suddenly felt the dog's paws reaching over to unbuckle him. He groaned inwardly to himself before turning to address the canine, hoping to play it off.
"Well, today ended up being rather enjoyable."
He smiled.
"Thanks for the trip."
The dog instantly smiled back, though his eyes made it clear that he was a tiny bit surprised.
"Oh, well, no problem, kid. I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. I actually had a pretty good time, too."
Satisfied but not really wanting any prolonged interaction, at the moment, the boy simply nodded as he turned and exited the vehicle. Brian was quick to catch up, making it to the front door first and opening it just as Stewie stepped onto the stoop. They made their way into the living room, and in no time at all, Meg and Chris were rushing towards them from the kitchen and upstairs respectively, voices meshing into almost incoherent noise as they addressed their stepfather simultaneously.
"Brian, I need to know about a book that Mr. Herbert recommended. I think it's called A Photo of Doctor Grey. He brought it up after mentioning something about wanting me to look young forever, which was a little weird, but it's supposed to be good. Do you know it?"
"Brian, Mom said I could cook dinner tonight. I found this new recipe in the cookbook, but it seems a little complex. I can handle it, but I might need a little help. Do you have time to come in the kitchen and help out? It's for a chicken dish, sounds delicious."
Stewie watched as his stepdoggy's eyes widened.
"Whoa! Whoa! One at a time, people."
He held out his hands, keeping the kids at bay as he stepped to the side, away from the door Chris and Meg almost had him pinned against.
"Chris, you go first."
Meg frowned, huffing as she folded her arms over her chest, but Stewie paid this no mind. The dog was obviously going to be occupied for a while, so he figured he might as well just head up to his room. Chris and Meg's issues held no interest for him, anyway.
Once in his own little semi-private corner of the house, the boy's mind began to wander back to his concerns from earlier in the day.
Oh… Right…
The infant sighed. No longer was he safely distracted by amusements such as the museum and travel games. Now, he knew he had to deal with his response to last night's other little "amusement". There had to be a way to nip this whole thing in the bud. While last night had most surely been...enjoyable...he couldn't really say he was able to look back on his actions fondly. It was too weird. SO weird to be having such thoughts and feelings towards...Brian for Christ's sake! No, he needed to know more. He needed to understand these responses better. Maybe they were even treatable.
Stewie rushed over towards his laptop sitting on the little plastic table by the window. His mind was already beginning to dwell on what he'd seen Brian doing last night, and the activity below his waist spurred him on as he set down his coloring book and opened up his web browser. He began typing in the search bar.
My best friend got me hard.
After hitting the search button, several results popped up.
"I let my best friend fuck me and liked it. So what?"
He read the first result out loud and instantly flushed.
"Oh...my…"
His thoughts trailed off, but luckily, it didn't take long for him to hit a wall.
"Wait."
He laughed.
"That...that wouldn't even work. We're both dudes."
He scrolled past that result, hoping to find something more helpful.
"Want to have sex with my best friend. No. Best friend got me pregnant. No."
He continued to scroll through results until finally finding one that looked promising.
"Saw my best friend naked, and now, I can't stop thinking about him."
The infant nodded in approval before clicking the link.
"Perfect."
His eyes scanned over the forum page that popped up. The original post told a fairly innocent story, not quite that similar to Stewie's own but it was a close enough situation. Apparently, this male person hadn't caught their male friend pleasuring themselves but simply caught them coming out of the bathroom after a shower. Their response was incredibly similar, however: thoughts being consumed by what they'd seen, pleasuring themselves while thinking about it, imagining intimate situations between them, the occasional unwanted stiffy. This person seemed just as confused as Stewie, and they claimed to be straight, having never had such thoughts about any other male. In comparison, Stewie knew he had never given sexual matters much of a thought. It was simply a process for baby-making. He'd felt romantic feelings here and there, found certain individuals attractive in a fairly chaste way...including a few males, but as an infant of style and taste, he appreciated anything that was good-looking.
He shook his head. That was beside the point, though. Here was someone suffering from a similar situation. Time to see what others had to say about it. He read over a few responses.
Give the friend some space. Maybe you need to take some time away from your friend. You obviously don't want to have these feelings, and unless you do, and don't feel like revealing them would hurt the friendship, try distancing yourself from this person. This should distance you from your feelings, too.
The child rolled his eyes.
Wow. Thanks. Distancing myself from stepdoggy is totallllly an option.
Every time you start to think about your friend, try to focus your attention on somebody else. (Concentrate on how you're attracted to somebody else, and fantasize about them instead.) It should work if you're not really attracted to your friend.
Stewie didn't want to be fantasizing about anyone! And, besides, even if he did, who would he fantasize about? He gave this question some serious thought, and honestly, couldn't come up with a single person who got his...motor running like the dog was suddenly able to.
Don'y ignore the frend, juzt only talk to him about manly things.
The child's eyebrow quirked.
Manly...things? Right.
He moved on to the next one.
DON' BEE A HOMO! LULZ
"Don't be a moron."
I don't feel like I have enough info to comment. Details please? How close are you n your friend? How old are you two?
Don't see how that extra info would help. Thanks for your non-comment, though I do wonder how amusing it would be to respond with an age of one if this were my thread.
MAKE UP TO $10,000 A MONTH FROM HOME! ASK ME HOW!
"Money is the least of my concerns, thank you."
Don't sweat it, it's no big deal. You saw something you shouldn't, and it turned you on, but you're probably only thinking about it so much because you're trying not to. It doesn't necessarily mean anything. :)
That...doesn't help at all. Emotions don't just mean nothing!
I think you need to take some time to figure out you're sexuality.
I think it really should be waaaaaay too early to have to worry about such things.
Iz youre friend hawt?
He paused, actually stopping to give this question some thought.
Well...for a dog...maybe.
As a professional in a branch of psychology, it's my personal recommendation that you don't ignore these feelings. Repressing such strong emotions as these can be detrimental to one's mental health. It can lead to depression and other emotionally damaging mental states. I would advise that you talk to someone about how you're feeling, someone you know you can trust. If at all possible, just be honest with the friend. Just be open and honest with them, yourself, and how you're feeling. I wish I could help more, but a lot of this is going to be on you to assess for yourself. If you give us a status update later, I will gladly continue to offer whatever assistance I can. Good luck. I hope you're able to find the answers you're looking for.
Ah. A professional. Well, the advice didn't seem all that bad, really. It didn't really help Stewie much, though. He had no intention of repressing his emotions, per se. He just wanted to know...what to do about them. Why they started. What they meant. How to keep them from intervening in his day to day life as it seemed they were bound to. It could just be a phase. He hoped it was a phase! But, right now, it was quite the pressing issue. And, who did he have to talk to about them? Brian was completely out of the question. Oh, dear lord, how he knew he couldn't bear that! The only other friend he had was Rupert.
He looked over at the bear sitting by his toy chest.
And, as good a friend as Rupert usually was, he wasn't really the best at giving advice… He was more the strong and silent type.
The infant sighed and shook his head, moving on.
Wear a rubber band around your wrist and pop yourself everytime you start to get aroused by those thoughts.
This suggestion puzzled him.
Uhhhhh...ok. Sure. Why not?
yike! tough luck bro! Lololo
And with that last douchy response, the baby decided he had read enough for one night, as he slammed his laptop shut. He reached up and rubbed his temples, feeling both frustrated and a tad exhausted. He decided he could use a nap, but first, he had to take care of one thing.
Where would I find a rubber band?
As he was waking up, he wasn't sure if those gentle hands moving over his body existed in real life or if they were the last fading impressions of his dream. When Brian's face came back into view, that didn't clear matters up at all, but then Stewie realized that he was in his crib and not on that old couch in the basement, and he was still wearing his fanny pack. That last part, Brian seemed to be doing his best to change, as Stewie's stepdoggy was currently fumbling with the fanny pack straps. All at once, the day at the museum came back to the boy, and he'd returned enough to the waking world to speak.
"Hey! Hands off! Why are you raiding my fanny?" he asked, swatting at the canine's paws.
Brian reeled back, looking blank at first, and then sort of frustrated. "God, Stewie, why you gotta- why you gotta…" He shook his head. "There's a 'pack' in that term, you know. Why are you dropping the 'pack'?" Without waiting for an answer, he resumed unbuckling the little bag from around Stewie's waist. "I just wanted to put your photos in a safe place. They're still in here, you know. Anyway. It's time for dinner, kid."
The infant watched Brian finish detaching the fanny pack, before unzipping it and taking out the small stack of souvenir photos from the museum. His stepdoggy then walked over to the corner of the room, and seemed undecided on what to do with Stewie's new possessions before ultimately placing them on a bookshelf. Stewie, meanwhile, was sitting up in bed, yawning and stretching.
"So did you and the elephant girl end up cooking, then?" asked the boy. As he spoke, he happened to glance down at his wrist. He spotted the rubber band and, with a quiet sigh, looked over to his stepdoggy.
Well, I've certainly earned a hearty snap after that last dream, haven't I?
He wouldn't do it in front of Brian, however, and so he let the canine lower the crib bars and lift him up and out of bed. "Meg and I did end up making dinner, yes. It's a new chicken dish." He started to carry Stewie from the room. The baby rolled his eyes, out of Brian's field of vision, once he realized what was going on.
He didn't try to tote me around once while at the museum, but now, of course, being my friend once again takes a backseat to being my parent, because lord knows, what would I do without my stepdoggy?
Downstairs, everyone was already assembled in the dining room. Meg had just brought out the main course, proudly presented on a platter which she placed in the center of the table.
"Pan seared chicken in riesling cream sauce. Prepared by Brian and yours truly."
The redheaded wench lifted a wine glass in Meg's direction in a toast. "Well, I definitely appreciate the riesling, so there's that."
Brian chuckled dryly as he was getting Stewie situated in his highchair.
"Heh heh...save some for me now, Lois." But he sounded rather dispirited, if Stewie's ears weren't deceiving him.
As had become the norm, Stewie's attention remained fixated on Brian as the dog took a seat by his mother. The child barely even registered the meal being dished out, didn't even notice the plate with small bits of cut up chicken being placed in front of him by his sister. Brian looked tense, a far cry from the comfort he seemed to be in while they were out earlier. The boy smiled slightly.
"Need mommy to help feed you, my little man?"
And, then immediately shot a scowl at the woman sitting across from him as he defiantly stabbed a piece of chicken violently with his fork and shoved it into his mouth.
The family lapsed into quietude for several minutes, the only sounds coming from the sounds of their chewing and the clatter of silverware on plates. There was also the repetitive sound of Lois setting down her wineglass a little harder than necessary- which she did frequently, as she was drinking like a fish that night. Stewie knew he wasn't the only one noticing. Brian kept giving her uneasy looks. He seemed to want to say something, but apparently kept failing to come up with anything.
"Well, how does everyone like- " Meg started to speak, with a gleeful, flagrantly leading tone in her voice as she leaned her elbows confidently on the table, but that was at the same moment Brian became unstuck, conversation-wise, and ended up talking over her.
""Hey, so guess what I saw? Grease is on T.V. tonight. What say we make it a family movie night?" He smiled around hopefully at the others.
"Uh, I think I already saw that movie on the internet," said Chris, laying down his fork. "Is that the one with the orgy that-
"You see grease every morning on your pillow from where you put your disgusting face," said Stewie, cutting him off, not in the mood to listen to stories about his brother's self abuse.
"It's a musical!" Brian quickly added. "A classic. How about it? It should be- it should be kinda fun, right? Summer won't be here much longer, so it's kind of perfect. You'll see when you see the movie. I guarantee you kids will be singing along before the night is through." He put on his most charming smile and leaned toward Lois. "And- and maybe your mom and I will end up doing our own version of 'Summer Lovin'', too. What do you think, Lois?" He elbowed her playfully, and Stewie pushed his spoon meaningfully down his own throat for emphasis as he loudly gagged.
Again, the bottom of the wineglass audibly struck the tabletop. "You've sure got a one track mind, haven't you, Brian?"
The dog looked at her unamused expression, and honestly looked flabbergasted for all of a second. Then, he dipped his head, and looked back up at her with wildly apologetic eyes. "I- I didn't mean- Lois, I genuinely meant...I literally meant a duet. Singing!"
"I'll sing with you, Brian!" Meg piped up.
"Like hell you will," Stewie snapped, having already had it with this family tonight. The break he and Brian had from them earlier now only served to emphasize how tedious and maddening things were in the thick of the Griffin family.
Brian just shook his head and sighed while Lois glared at him through the narrow slits her eyes had become.
"Whatever you say, Brian," the hellish harpy stated indifferently, starting to rise from the table, throwing her napkin down in the center of her plate. She picked up her wine glass, though, and the nearly-empty bottle, evidently to take with her.
"Oh, come on, Lois, don't be that way," Brian pleaded, looking rather pitiful.
"You didn't like the dinner, Mom?" Meg asked.
"Asking all the important questions, Meg," muttered Stewie, spearing a small chunk of chicken with his fork.
"Meg, I never praise anything else that you do, so this should come as no surprise," replied Lois lifelessly…
Well, if only "lifelessly"...
His mother shuffled out of the room, and Brian hesitated before getting a fuck-it-all look on his face and announcing,
"Don't take it personally, Meg, your mother is clearly smashed."
"I say, this family has really gone to the dogs," Stewie quipped, hoping to make stepdoggy feel better with a laugh, but after waiting expectantly, he got gypped out of the reward his joke was due when Brian only looked at him tiredly before resuming eating.
"Seriously? I thought that was worth a chuckle, at least," the baby remarked, feeling quite stubborn. "No, but Bry, really, if you'd prefer she wasn't just figuratively 'smashed', just say the word."
"Stewie-" the canine broke out his scolding voice, but then it gentled, and he turned to the baby and said lowly, "Just give it a rest right now. Please?"
The boy, appreciating that Brian had made it a point to address him privately, just nodded.
"We'll watch Grease, anyway, if you kids are still interested," stepdoggy told the Griffin brood, chasing the scraps of his meal around his plate with his fork.
Ordinarily, Grease might have been just the sort of movie to capture Stewie's interest- it had catchy songs, and while the gang of young bloods Danny ran around with weren't intimidating at all by today's standards, there was something...charismatic about them. But after they provoked thoughts of Brian in a leather jacket...thoughts that made Stewie feel funny enough to snap the rubber band...he found himself again lost in a reverie about all the feelings people shouldn't be feeling for others in the house.
Lois shouldn't be acting like such a cold, wasted bitch. She has it luckier than she knows. But Brian, the poor damned fool, shouldn't be in love with her in the first place. What's so special about her, anyway? Apart from her being quite the worst person in the world.
And I...well, I shouldn't be fantasizing about my very own stepdoggy.
Stepdoggy loves Mommy… Mommy pretty obviously doesn't love Stepdoggy...and I evidently lust for Stepdoggy. Perfect. Just perfect. If it wasn't time to get Springer on the phone before…
"It would be so cool if our school put this on next year!" Meg squealed, utterly enamored with the film. She turned to her eldest younger brother. "Wouldn't it, Chris?"
"What are you talking about? We don't go to the same school?"
Brian facepalmed. "Uhhh...remember we've been talking about this, buddy? Getting ready for high school? So yes, come September, you will be at the same school as Meg."
Chris looked at him, blinking blanking. "Oh, yeah," he said at length. He gripped the sides of his head. "Life is so confusing!"
"Hmph. Tell me about it," Stewie muttered to himself. "Small potatoes, Chris. Small potatoes."
"Nobody better find out that you're my sister, Meg," Chris warned, crossing his arms. "Or else my social status will tank."
"How can it, when it's already at zero?" Meg spat back.
"Negative one. Ever heard of it? Good to know the quality of the schools I'll eventually be getting into," Stewie stated with a roll of his eyes.
Brian shook his head. "Kids. Kids. This is such a dumb, juvenile fight. It's beneath you. Leave it alone." He sank back further against the couch as though in exhaustion.
"Hey!" Stewie protested, more an automatic impulse than anything else. "Who are you to say...I mean...Mr. High Horse…"
"Sheesh is that comeback falling apart," Brian interrupted with a snort, after the baby trailed off, unsure where he wanted the insult to go.
"Oh, don't be petty, Brian." He batted his hand at the dog, somewhat ashamed of himself for his temporarily weak quipping skills, but unable to resist getting back into his own head and setting up camp there. He didn't really want to interact with anyone right now, and wasn't sure why he'd even been responding to Chris's inane comments. Even though he hadn't sentenced himself to any kind of punishment for behaving out of character while in the grips of his mental distress, he snapped the band again, anyway. Already, the sensation was becoming less than bothersome, and that, too, was annoying.
SNAP!
He glared down at his wrist, at the soft red imprint. Stupid family. Stupid feelings. Stupid dog for making him feel new feelings. Stupid Grease for not helping. Stupid thoughts about Brian in the basement, or maybe sitting on a motorcycle, and…
SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!
His member gave an unmistakable jump, and Stewie felt his eyes widen in bewilderment as he let out a quiet groan.
What the...fuck?!
From his place on the floor, he let his head loll back against the sofa behind him as he squeezed his eyes shut in frustration and listened to the ninnies in the movie croon about Sandra Dee, and he thought about how well and truly screwed he was.