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Eric wasn't always an evil little piggy.
In the beginning, at the very start, he'd also go "Scoaa, Scoaa," running after his big brother — who wasn't that much taller himself — with his little mouth open, baby teeth still not all grown in, clutching a warm bottle in his chubby hand, the nipple all chewed up and milk leaking out every time he waved it around.
Scott always looked back on those days fondly. He wasn't like other kids who had younger siblings and hated every second of it. No, he actually liked doing stuff with Eric. Even if that made some people call him a weirdo. But Scott didn't give a crap about gossip (I mean, a blended family is already weird enough, right?). He just liked being with Eric, feeding the piggy, bathing him, playing games, and finally cuddling him to sleep. Every single day.
After all, who wouldn't love a stress toy that fits perfectly in your hand, a little thing you can rough up without getting in any legal trouble, a little shadow that follows you around no matter how mean you are to him?
"Piggy, say 'ahhh——'"
"Ah-wahhh——"
A spoonful of dark, goopy stuff was brought to little Eric's mouth, steam rising. The boy didn't question it at all like always, he opened wide at his big brother's command and his eyes sparkling with anticipation. The next second, the bitter taste hit him and his whole face scrunched up. The high chair was a bit too small for him now. Or maybe Eric just grew fast. Either way, he was practically wedged between the tray and the backrest, like a tiny baby restraint chair, specially made for naughty little piggies. Even though Eric was still pretty well-behaved, at least when it came to Scott.
"Pff...! Scoaa! Bitter!"
"Good, it's supposed to be. You made this mess, so you have to eat it all by yourself. Every last bite."
"No!"
Heads up, this is not a story about a mean big brother bullying an innocent little brother. That morning, in an unnoticed corner of the kitchen, the little piggy had fully shown off his evil talents (preschool level). While Liane was busy cleaning her mixing bowl covered in batter, he'd snuck in somehow and used his pudgy little hand to twist the oven timer from twenty minutes to five hours. By the time Liane smelled something burning and realized something was wrong, the oven was already smoking and set off the smoke alarm. The screeching siren, water pouring down from the sprinklers like rain all over the kitchen, it's a total chaos. Liane shrieked and told Jack to grab the fire extinguisher. Upstairs, when Scott heard the noise, he dropped his Legos immediately and rush into the kitchen, yanked his grinning stupid baby brother off the floor, and tossed him onto the front lawn like a chubby kitten. And how did Scott know exactly where Eric was? It's easy, who else but that little piggy could cause this much trouble in the Tenorman house? Even Scott couldn't (which honestly is a good thing).
"Scott, honey, Jack and I need to clean the oven. While we do that, please go tell Eric that what he did was dangerous, and teach him not to do it again."
Liane's bun was a bit messy, but she still managed a tired smile at Scott. Wearing kitchen gloves and holding a screwdriver in her right hand, she left those words and left the two boys alone in the living room, trusting one little baby to another baby not much bigger. Scott... well, Scott was a good kid too. Smarter than most kids his age. He could figure out what adults really meant and twist their words into whatever he wanted to hear.
Torture Eric until the naughty piggy admits he was wrong — that was nine-year-old Scott's final answer.
"If you don't like it, then don't crawl where you're not supposed to go. And I already mashed up your cookies and added warm milk. What more do you want?"
"Not crawl... walk!"
"You're so fat, how can you walk? I dunno who was whining last night for me to carry him to bed."
"Not fat too... bones... big..."
"You ARE fat. Don't argue. Look at your belly and your thighs, it's all just blubber. So squishy... no, so gross."
Scott used his free hand to squeeze the soft, squishy leg under the tray. Paused. Then squeezed a few more times, which got him some serious resistance from Eric himself.
"Be good, piggy. Here comes the next bite. Ahhh——"
Another spoonful of burnt cookie mush mixed with milk was brought to his lips, leaving a black smear on Eric's tightly shut mouth. Scott was actually still pretty mad. He'd told Eric before — no kitchen, no basement. Normally his piggy was pretty well-trained and listened to him. So why was he suddenly sneaking into these places lately? Like his rebellious phase came ten years early.
"Open up... Don't you love your big bro? Take one more bite for me."
Hearing that, Eric stopped struggling as much, still trapped in the chair. His eyes looked up at Scott all pitifully. The chubby little piggy had no idea what he did wrong. He was just bored and pushed a button, like playing with the Legos Scott gave him. Because Scott wouldn't play with him, he was hiding in his room building Legos and wouldn't let Eric in. So why was this different? Why was his Scott so mad at him and making him eat this gross bitter stuff? Eric just couldn't figure it out. But if this meant Scott's attention was all on him… he still wanted to listen to his brother deep down. It was basically instinct by now.
So he opened his mouth. One bite. Then another. And under Scott's pleased smile, the weird goopy bowl was almost empty.
"Good boy, my little baby, so good..." The usual praises slipped out automatically. Scott blinked, realizing he'd gotten a bit too into it. This time, taming the piggy wasn't the goal, teaching him was. Even though they were kind of the same thing. "...I mean, do you know what you did wrong?"
Eric's cheeks were puffed out, his eyes fixed on Scott's crooked little fang, all watery like he was about to cry any second. "No..."
"No? You really are..."
Scott put down the bowl, kids shouldn't eat too many cookies anyway. He reached out and pinched that chubby little face, letting out an amused snort. "Didn't I tell you not to go in the kitchen? Huh? Why didn't you listen to me?"
"Scoaa... hug..."
Eric didn't answer the question. Instead, he made another totally unreasonable request. And honestly? Scott kind of wanted to hold that little body too. He hadn't held his baby brother all morning, and he kinda missed that sickly sweet piggy smell. His fingers moved to the boy's shoulders without thinking, like he was still deciding whether to do it. But Eric's tears were already falling, warm drops rolling down his cheeks in little streams, looking so pitiful. Even though he was the one who messed up, somehow he looked more wronged than anyone. A good guardian would've explained what he did wrong first, then comforted him. Too bad Scott wasn't really a guardian, and definitely not a good one in any sense.
"Shit...! Don't cry, don't..."
His hand moved again, pulling Eric out of the high chair and into his chest, patting his back. The little piggy curled up tightly in his big brother's arms, nuzzling into the redhead's neck, smearing tears all over him, sniffling and crying softly.
"Did listen... Sco… Waaah..."
"Okay, okay. My piggy is the best listener. It's all Scott's fault, alright? Scott didn't watch you close enough and let you run off to that place..."
Scott couldn't handle Eric's tears. It always made him want to comfort him uncontrollably, like some weird instinct. He thought maybe after a few more years he'd build up immunity. But honestly, For the rest of his life, he'd lose this battle every single time.
"Not Sco's fault...too…"
Scott's throat tightened. His heart gave a little lurch, and his cheeks went warm. His little piggy was so dumb he was even defending him. Who knew how much longer this innocence would last…
"Okay, okay. Then it's the oven's fault. We're not playing with it anymore." Scott thought for a second and added, "And no more kitchen either. That place is full of bad things. Right, piggy?"
"Bad things..."
Eric's voice was muffled, his whole face buried in Scott's collar, taking little breaths. He'd never mentioned it, but he loved the way his big brother smelled — cool, with a faint hint of sweetness. He couldn't name it, but he just liked it.
The two of them just stood there in the middle of the living room, all sticky and clingy, hugging for a while. With the occasional sound of oven repairs and the leftover hum of the smoke alarm in the background, Eric's breathing against Scott's neck slowly calmed down. When Scott turned to look, Eric had already fallen asleep. He shifted and reached down to feel the boy's belly, it was a little round. Guess that bowl of cookies had been too much for him. Scott couldn't help but laugh. Eric really was a real little piggy, gets sleepy after eating, and the moment he snuggles up to someone he likes, he just starts grunting contentedly. So cute.
At this point, it didn't really matter who was wrong. In the end, the only things that would suffer were the innocent pieces of furniture. But don't worry too much, because in just one more year, after Eric starts kindergarten and picks up some bad habits from a Jewish kid, a gloomy kid, and a poor kid, he won't be whining for his big brother to hold him anymore. This Cookie Incident would get buried deep in the brothers' childhood memories. Scott feels a little sad about that, but he'll never tell Eric, just like Eric will never tell him that he misses those days sleeping with his big bro, and the hugs.
But in the end, they replaced that last part with kisses. So it's not all bad.