
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13675803.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Family_Guy
  Relationship:
      Brian_Griffin/Stewie_Griffin
  Character:
      Brian_Griffin, Stewie_Griffin
  Additional Tags:
      Shameless_Smut
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-02-14 Words: 1822
****** the shape of everything you need ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     Scenes from a porno. (Or something like that.)
Notes
     Title is from "You Are Jeff" by Richard Siken.
This is what Brian had been missing.
Of course, Stewie tells him as much, all breathy and damply hot in his ear like
some truly unholy hybrid of Marilyn Monroe and an Allen Ginsburg wet dream, but
it bears silent repeating in the safety of his brain - or at least what's left
of his brain after nearly all of it nearly literally melts out of the ear that
Stewie hasn't decided to start kissing wetly.
"You could have had this years ago," Stewie continues. Brian doesn't have to
look at his face to know that he's smirking, and he can't look at his face
because he abruptly feels on the edge of an orgasm already and looking Stewie
in the eye would absolutely push him over that edge. "You could have had this
if only you'd asked."
"I was afraid to," Brian confesses in a frog-croak of a voice that can't
possibly sound sexy. "I'd never felt that way about..." He trails off, partly
because even he doesn't know what the end of that statement was supposed to be
and partly because Stewie lays a hand on the soft pouch of his stomach, only a
few inches from his cock.
"I know," he simpers, and the worst part of it is that he sounds genuinely
sympathetic. "I know, Brian. But you don't have to be afraid. I've told you
before that I'd take care of you, right?" He lets his hand fall a little lower,
though it's still not quite touching his cock. "Let me take care of you."
"I'm - " Brian grinds his teeth together in tension and embarrassment. "I think
I'm gonna come."
Stewie laughs; the sound isn't unkind, but it makes Brian flush in humiliation,
anyway. "I haven't even touched your prick yet, Bry. How long has it been?" He
hums a little in thought, the vibration of it against Brian's skin causing his
eyes to flutter. "Actually, don't answer that. I don't need to know all the
nitty-gritty details of the last barfly you spunked all over. You want me to
take the edge off? See if you, even in your old age, can get hard for me
again?"
"I'm not sure if I can," Brian pants. "God, Stewie, I'm so fucking sorry, it's
just - "
Stewie shushes him. "It's fine. I've waited five years to get you into my bed.
I can wait a little longer to ride your red rocket."
No, this is the worst part, actually - not Stewie being sympathetic but Stewie
somehow making even the unsexiest things sound positively sinful.
"I'm gonna come if you keep talking like that," Brian says. He feels so
overwhelmed that he could cry. "Do you - fuck, do you want me to finish myself
off?"
Stewie scoffs. "I think not! What did I just say?" He finally closes his hand
around Brian's cock. "Come all over my hand, Brian. At least give me a taste."
Well, if Stewie insists. It takes two strokes before Brian is indeed coming all
over his hand. He immediately slumps backward into the cool, soft embrace of
Stewie's blankets and pillows, breathing so heavily that he feels like he's
just completed a marathon.
"Eyes up here, mister!" Stewie snaps, and Brian cranes his neck just far up
enough to see Stewie sucking his come off of his fingers. His cock twitches,
which doesn't escape Stewie's attention.
"I think you underestimate yourself," Stewie says. "I think you can get hard
for me again."
"I can't, Stewie," Brian pleads. "I'd love to, but I feel like I'm fucking
dying."
Stewie beams. "I'll take that as a compliment!" he says, his cheerfulness
incongruous with the way that he licks at the last few stripes of Brian's come.
"You taste pretty good, Bry, I must admit. You could stand to drink a bit more
water, though."
"...Thanks for the suggestion?"
"Don't mention it," Stewie says with a wave of his hand. "Besides," he adds
casually, as if they're discussing the weather, "I prefer my lovers to have
stronger-tasting come. You know, I've read so many times that you should
incorporate more fruit into your diet for sweeter-tasting come, but I simply
don't understand it. It's come. I'm not sucking a strawberry smoothie out of
your prick, you know? I want to know that I'm sucking cock."
Brian's cock begins stirring in interest. That doesn't escape Stewie's
attention, either.
"I should have figured that you'd be one for dirty talk," he says mildly.
"Given that you're a writer and all." Brian doesn't miss the way that Stewie
says "writer," drenched in sarcasm, but he ignores it. Stewie did just
essentially talk him into coming his brains out, after all. "Would you like to
hear about the last man whose cock I sucked?"
"Not really," Brian says, and it's the truth. "I...don't like the thought of
you with other men."
"Jealous, huh? I can't say that I mind." Stewie smiles warmly at him before
that warmth sparks into a heat. "We can pretend yours is the first cock I've
sucked, if you like. Does the thought of me being a blushing virgin do anything
for you?"
Brian closes his eyes against a strange, inarticulate emotion that begins to
climb up his throat. "No, it's not that. You're just..."
"I'll take your speechlessness as a compliment, too," Stewie says. "What do I
have to do to get that pretty cock all nice and hard for me again, hm?" He
wiggles down onto his stomach and, before Brian can even register what he's
about to do, kisses it.
Brian hisses through his teeth. "Fuck, I'm still so sensitive," he most
certainly does not whine.
Stewie takes the head into his mouth and suckles it, running his tongue over
the slit. Brian tries very hard not to buck his hips up. He pulls off and
smirks again. "Poor baby," he pouts, "does it hurt? Are you straddling that
delicious line between pleasure and pain? I know how that feels." He sighs, and
the feeling of it wafting over Brian's cock makes him grunt. "This certainly
can't come as a surprise to you, but I'm quite insatiable. I can come dry as
many as five times in a night, depending on how skilled my partner is." He
pauses for a moment. "Or depending on which vibrator I use."
"You have sex toys?" Brian asks weakly.
"Of course I have sex toys!" Stewie cries. "I've exhausted every male pedophile
in the greater Quahog area. I need some kind of stimulation when I can't get it
out there." He cocks his head toward the window. "Besides, not to brag, but I
seem to know my body better than anyone else. The men in this town tend to
spend their load pretty quickly. Probably because they can't really get it
anywhere else." He frowns. "But that makes me feel unattractive, so I try not
to think about it."
"You're...attractive," Brian settles on.
"Wow, thanks," Stewie says flatly. "That felt like a confident and honest
statement."
"I mean it," Brian tries again. "I'm not gay, but there's just something about
you that's so...special."
Stewie ducks his head and smiles. "There's no need to butter me up, dear. I'll
still let you fuck me. And no, of course you're not gay. It's perfectly
heterosexual to let a man make you come twice."
"You've only made me come once," Brian gently teases him in lieu of arguing in
defense of his heterosexuality. He'll save it for the inevitable panic attack
that he'll have after he leaves the room.
"Patience," he reminds Brian. "I don't want to send you into cardiac arrest."
He ducks his head again, this time to lick Brian's cock from its head to the
base of its shaft. "I think I'd rather enjoy making you come with just my
voice," he muses. "I'm always up for a challenge, not that I think it'd be
particularly difficult."
"Honestly, at this point, it probably won't be," Brian admits. "I'm never going
to be able to listen to you talk around the family now. All I'm going to hear
is that posh voice telling me to come all over your hand."
"'Posh'?" Stewie asks, sounding delighted. "You get very sweet after you come,
you know. I wouldn't have guessed it. You've always seemed like the love 'em
and leave 'em type, no offense." He wiggles a little further up Brian's body,
so that his head is laying on his chest. "I love you," he sighs happily.
"I...I love you, too, Stewie," Brian says, feeling a bit dizzy all of the
sudden. "Fuck, I didn't think I'd ever tell you that in this context."
"I love you," Stewie says again. "I love you a truly unbearable amount, and I
want to make you come again." He snuggles a little deeper into Brian. "Dogs
love humping, right? It's my understanding that you go wild for it. Get my
clothes all wet, darling. Make me smell like you."
Brian obeys immediately, rolling his hips up into Stewie. It's a little
uncomfortable with Stewie's pajamas in the way, but Stewie soothes the chafing
with the filthy sweet nothings that he speaks into Brian's chest.
"You'll be so fun to tease," he tells Brian. "I think it'd be fun to sit on
your lap in front of the rest of the family, whispering in your ear, you unable
to come without everybody knowing but unable to stop yourself from leaking,
anyway. You'd have to wait until everyone else left the room before I'd touch
you with my hands - or maybe you'd be so desperate for it that you'd come all
over me right then and there." He sucks in a shuddering little breath. "Like
you're going to do for me right now. Come on me, Brian."
Brian comes for the second time that night, whimpering in a disorientingly
canine way.
"Good boy," Stewie praises him. "Now, do I need to break out the peanut butter
or will you suck me off without it? I'm fit to burst, watching you come for me
twice in one night."
Brian, for the first time that night, hesitates.
"I didn't mean to spook you," Stewie says, catching on immediately. "I know
you're new to this whole gay sex thing. I can take care of myself. Can I at
least jack off onto your chest, though?"
"Sure," Brian acquiesces, voice gravel-rough now. "I...I want to smell like
you, too."
Stewie's hips jerk sharply up into Brian's sensitive groin, his eyes closed,
his misleadingly cherubic face screwed up in pained pleasure. "Never mind," he
says after a few moments. "That did it for me."
It's probably the multiple orgasms making him soft, but Brian doesn't want to
leave this room, not tonight. The panic attack can wait until the light of
tomorrow. "Can I sleep in your bed tonight?" he asks quietly.
"I'd love nothing more," Stewie says.
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