Bertie-saurus - Chapter 1

Albert blinked awake, his eyes slowly adjusting to the light in his bedroom as he felt the soft, fuzzy feeling of felt brushing against his cheek. He looked down in confusion - there, snuggled comfortably in the crook of his arm, was the plush stegosaurus that Aunt Linda had bought him for Christmas last year. He grimaced. What was that doing there? Usually, he kept the toy at the end of his book shelf - far enough away from his bed that no one would be under any illusions that he actually used the thing. He would have kept it hidden firmly away in his closet, but the only time he’d done that his mother had told him off - saying Aunt Linda would think he was ungrateful. He supposed it was kind of a good present - he did want to be a palaeontologist after all - but he was fourteen years old, not four. Even if he was a little short for his age.

“Looks like the sleepy dinosaur’s finally awake.” A voice cooed, jolting Albert out of his daydream.

There looming above his bed was the neighbor boy. Arthur was only thirteen years old, but when it came to height the difference between the two boys could not be more pronounced. Where Albert was definitely in the 1st percentile for his age, Arthur must have been in the 99th.

“Wha’ ah you doin’ ere?” Albert mumbled, surprised by the unarticulated sound of his own voice. What was going on?

Arthur just laughed, gently taking hold of the smaller boy's hand and popping his thumb out of his mouth. Albert gave a start of surprise - regarding Arthur with a sheepish frown. Had he really just been caught sucking his thumb?

“Give that another go, buddy.” Arthur instructed.

Albert scowled, sitting up in bed as he practically spat out the same question “What are you doing here?”

“It’s alright, Albie. Don’t freak out. Your mom just had a work emergency. She had me come over to look after you for the morning.”

Arthur’s use of his nickname prompted a groan of displeasure. “It’s Albert.” he insisted “Only my mom calls me Albie.”

“Alright.” Arthur conceded “But Albert’s a bit of a mouthful. How about we just go with Bertie?”

The smaller boy bit his lip. That name was almost worse - but he decided to ignore it.

“You’re not looking after me.” the boy asserted. “I’m older than you. I don’t need looking after.” He tried to look as grown up as possible, but it was a hard task with a plushie dinosaur under his arm.

“Well…she actually said ‘keep company’, but she meant ‘look after,'” Arthur reasoned. “She just wanted me to help out with a few things while she’s away. You know, get you out of bed, get you dressed, get you some breakfast. That kind of thing.”

“Like a babysitter.” Bertie observed bitterly.

Arthur smiled wryly “I guess - if that’s what you wanna call it.”

The smaller boy pouted, crossing his arms in displeasure “Like I said, I don’t need a babysitter. Why didn’t she just wake me up? I could have gone with her.”

In truth, Bertie knew the explanation before the sulky question had even left his lips. His mother made a point of never waking the boy up unless she had to - and Bertie was a deep sleeper. Last Thanksgiving when he had fallen asleep in the car on the journey home, she had even carried him inside and put him to bed! He had contested the issue with her multiple times, but she insisted - something about sleep helping him make up his huge deficit in the height department. Still, vocalizing the point made Bertie feel better. What business did Arthur have barging into his house? The boy may have been taller, but he was a full year younger!

“Guess she didn’t want to wake you.” Arthur confirmed, putting an intrusive hand against Bertie’s forehead to brush away a few stray blond-brown curls “You’re so cute when you’re sleeping.”

Arthur held up his phone, displaying a photo of the smaller boy curled up angelically in his bed. He was nursing enthusiastically on his thumb with one hand and affectionately squeezing his fluffy dinosaur toy with the other.

“Hey!” Bertie objected, jumping out from under his covers to make a grab for the phone. Arthur was too fast for him, however -  stepping nimbly back and securing it in his pocket. Having jumped out from under the security of his bedsheets, it was now obvious that the boy was dressed only in a pair of colorful orange and yellow Brontosaurus themed briefs - complete with a lime green margin around the waistband. As soon as he saw the larger boy’s expression, Bertie turned bright red - ceasing his attempts to grab for the phone and instead hesitantly covering his exposed undies with his hands.

“Delete it…please.” the boy begged, suddenly feeling much less confident than he had a few moments ago.

Why had Aunt Linda bought him those stupid underpants in the first place? More importantly, why had he put them on instead of just doing another round of laundry? He supposed he hadn’t been expecting to be ambushed on a Saturday morning by the boy who lived next door.

“Calm down, Bertie. I’m not going to show anyone.” Arthur reassured. “That is, if you’re a good boy for me.”

“What?”

“A good little boy.” Arthur said,  almost hypnotically. “Just be good and no one will ever know. If you plan on being naughty, on the other hand…”

“What?” Bertie repeated, his voice cracking with a strange mixture of anger and fear as he felt tears begin to well in the corner of his eyes. He couldn’t let anyone at school see that photo! He just couldn’t! “No! I-”

“Shhhhh, Shhhh.” Arthur hushed, striding confidently towards the agitated little boy and easily scooping him up in his arms. Bertie tried to resist, writhing and wriggling in his grasp, but Arthur was much stronger - hugging the boy against his chest and patting him comfortingly on his dinosaur-adorned bottom.

“Put me down…” Bertie begged, but Arthur didn’t listen.

“That’s the first rule, buddy.” he lectured, grabbing hold of Bertie’s little hand, molding it into a fist, and inserting the thumb into his mouth - silencing him. “Whenever you start getting grumpy, you need to have a nice little suck on your thumb to help you calm down, okay?”

Bertie immediately tried to resist, mumbling a few words of protest as he momentarily managed to unstick the digit from his mouth, but Arthur quickly reasserted his authority.

“Nuh-uh, baby. Keep your thumb in your mouth. No big boy words for now.”

Bertie just whined, his wordless protest slightly muffled by his thumb, not daring to mount another resistance.

“That’s right, buddy. That’s a good boy.” Arthur praised “Just make your little baby dinosaur  grumbles until you feel all happy again.”

He bounced him up and down in his arms, stroking the boy's tangled mop of curls. “You’re just my little Bertie-saurus aren’t you?” he joked, ignoring Bertie's fervent shakes of his head to the contrary.

Arthur carried the boy briefly back over to the bed, grabbing up the Stegosaurus toy and pressing it into the boy’s grasp. Bertie tried to let it drop to the ground, but Arthur grabbed hold of it again - shifting the little boy to his hip so he could tickle the fuzzy material playfully against his bare belly. The boy tried very hard not to laugh at the horrible ticklish feeling, stoically maintaining a serious look of disapproval as his thumb still hung loosely from his mouth.

“Almost forgot your favorite toy there, didn’t we bud?” Arthur commented. “What’s his name?”

Bertie stayed silent, obediently keeping his thumb in his mouth until Arthur went to remove it. “What’s his name, buddy?” he repeated.

“Doesn’t have one.” Bertie muttered, sniffing back the final remnants of the tears that had just about formed in the corner of his eyes.

“Oh, well that won’t do.” Arthur asserted. “Tell you what, why don’t we think of one while we go get you a nice drink. I bet you’re a thirsty little dinosaur, huh?”

Bertie shook his head again, but Arthur paid him no attention - hugging the boy up against his chest as he made his way out of the bedroom and down the hall towards the staircase. Bertie wriggled restlessly, but didn’t make any serious attempt to escape - just grateful that Arthur wasn’t making him suck his thumb for the moment.

---

Bertie was getting restless by the time they made their way to the kitchen. He’d expected Arthur to let him down at the table, but instead the larger boy simply placed down the Stegosaurus toy while continuing to hold his self appointed little charge in his arms - simply shifting the boy on to his hip as he took a carton of milk out of the fridge and started to rummage through the cupboards. Bertie fidgeted - realizing that he needed to go to the toilet quite badly. How long was this going to take? As the need got more urgent, he considered complaining -  but figured that would probably only lead to a further humiliation. He would just have to wait until Arthur let him down.

Eventually, Arthur managed to find what he was looking for - pulling out a practically ancient sippy cup from the back of the cupboard. Bertie was sure he hadn’t used the thing since he was in kindergarten, but sure enough it was decorated with little cartoon illustrations of various dinosaurs. Afterall, they had been a long running obsession for the boy. As Arthur got to rinsing it out in the sink with Bertie still secured against his hip, the boy finally worked up the courage to speak up.

“I don’t need a sippy cup.” he stated simply, just a hint of anger in his voice. He was trying to stay calm, figuring that throwing a fit would only encourage Arthur-  but containing his emotions was getting more and more difficult. He just needed to figure out a way to get his hands on that phone, but that was impossible in his current predicament. Besides, he had more pressing concerns. He squeezed his legs uncomfortably against Arthur’s waist, feeling another stab of urgency from his bladder.

“Sure you do, buddy.” Arthur rebutted, bringing the cup and the boy back over towards the kitchen table “It’s just perfect for your little hands. And what if you had a spill?”

“I’m fourteen.”

“I know, I know - you’re a big boy. But four’s still too little to use the grown-up cups. Look it’s even got a stegosaurus, just like your favorite toy.”

“Four-TEEN, not four! I’m older than you!” Bertie yelled, trying in vain to escape Arthur’s iron grasp as he felt his face begin to flush red in frustration. “Let me down!”

“Shhh shhh, inside voice, buddy.” Arthur hushed “Do you need to suck on your thumb again?”

“No.” Bertie seethed, trying very hard to contain himself.

“Good boy.” Arthur praised, swapping the sippy cup for the stegosaurus and placing it in the smaller boy’s grasp. “Don’t drop him.” he instructed “Just have a nice cuddle with your dino friend until you’re feeling better, alright? Maybe you can even think of a name.”

Bertie didn’t respond, simply grasping limply onto the felt material.

“Alright?” Arthur repeated - his expression revealing just a hint of reproval.

Finally, Bertie gave a hesitant nod - prompting Arthur to pat him soothingly on his bottom. Bertie wriggled, still desperate for the toilet as Arthur continued to hover tantalizingly close to the table. Why wouldn’t he just put him down?

“All better now, huh?” Arthur commented “Now, where does your mommy keep your booster seat?”

“I don’t have a booster seat.”

“Oh. Do you still use a high chair?”

“No!”

“Alright then, bud. You don't have to throw a tantrum. I'll let you sit in the grown up chair for now. But you have to promise to be a good boy. No fidgeting, and no getting up and running around, alright?”

Bertie nodded his assent, desperate to get free from Arthur’s grasp.

“Do you promise?” Arthur persisted.

“Yes!” he relented “I promise!”

Finally, Arthur let him down - seating him in one the chairs along with a requisite pat on the head before turning back towards the kitchen counter. Still desperate for the toilet, Bertie broke his promise almost immediately - abandoning the Stegosaurus toy and making a break for the door. His bid at freedom was short-lived, however, Arthur immediately grabbing him from behind and pulling him into a hug.

“What did I say, Bertie?” Arthur lectured, leaning down to his level “No getting up from the kitchen table. You can play later.”

“I have to go to the toilet!” Bertie finally admitted, unable to take the pressure any longer.

“Ohhh.” Arthur smiled, his stern expression softening “Is it a potty emergency?”

“What?” Bertie queeried, unable to stop himself from fidgeting from one foot to the other.

“Does the little Bertie-saurus need to go pee-pee?” Arthur teased, tickling at his bare tummy and making the situation even worse. “Is he going to have a little accident in his little undies?”

Bertie didn’t respond, not wanting to dignify the childish language with a response. He instead redoubled his efforts to try and somehow wriggle his way out of Arthur’s grasp - but it was no use.

“Is it a potty emergency?” Arthur insisted.

“Yes!” Bertie finally conceded  “Let me out! I really need to go!”

“You have to say the magic words…”

Bertie had no idea what the boy was talking about, but he knew for a certainty that for every moment the conversation went on, his chance of peeing his pants rose exponentially.

“It’s a potty emergency!” he finally exclaimed, desperately clutching at his underpants in a comical effort to somehow relieve the pressure.

“Well, I just meant ‘please.” Arthur commented, flashing the boy a smug smile before finally releasing his grasp. “But that’ll do as well.  Do you need my help?”

“No!” Bertie yelped, turning quickly on his heels and floundering haphazardly up the stairs towards the bathroom.

---

Bertie stood at the toilet, finishing up his business with a sigh of relief. He stared at the childish briefs resting around his ankles and frowned. This whole situation was ridiculous. Arthur actually seemed to be enjoying treating him like he was just some little kid. How old was he supposed to be in Arthur’s absurd fantasy? Four? The larger boy knew very well his actual age. The two of them had lived next door to each other for over three years now, and they even went to the same school.

It was all because of that stupid dinosaur toy and his stupid thumb. How had it even got under his arm? And why had he been sucking his thumb? He thought he'd broken that habit four years ago! Most importantly, why had his mom let Arthur see him like that?  But he supposed she wasn’t entirely to blame. He’d been the one who had put on the dinosaur briefs. It was alright though. All he needed to do was somehow get his hands on Arthur's phone when he wasn't looking and he'd be in the clear. Until then, he just needed to make sure he didn't end up on the larger boy's bad side. Yes, he just needed to make sure he wasn't "naughty", whatever the hell that meant.

He was just thinking about going to change out of the childish underwear, and stuffing everything he'd ever received from Aunt Linda to the back of the closet for good measure, when Arthur’s voice took him by surprise.

“Did you make it to the potty in time, Bertie-saurus?”

The larger boy was standing in the doorway, smiling smugly with the sippy cup in his hand and the Stegosaurus toy cuddled snugly under his arm. Bertie cursed himself. How had he forgotten to lock the door!? He quickly pulled up his undies again, cringing as he felt the last tiniest dribble of liquid spurt onto the inside material of his briefs.

“Yes.” he spat out dryly, refusing to make eye contact.

“That’s good.” Arthur commented. “I was worried you’d have an accident with all the fuss you were making! But big boy dinosaurs don’t have accidents, do they?”

Bertie ignored the comment, closing the lid before flushing the toilet.

“Remember to wash your hands, buddy.”

The boy didn’t answer, stepping up on his footstool to reach the tap. Of course he was going to wash his hands! But he’d only just turned off the tap and was reaching for the hand towel when Arthur interjected once again.

“Oh, Bertie. Looks like you had an accident after all."

He looked down - remembering the tiny dribble that had escaped when he’d pulled up his underpants. To his horror, the little spurt had grown into quite a sizable stain.

“N..no. I didn't” He tried to deny, but his stumbling hesitation gave away the lie. “It’s just water!”

“It’s alright.” Arthur re-assured, grabbing the boy by the hand and practically dragging him back to his bedroom. “It’s only a little accident. At least you tried, huh?”

“I didn’t!” Bertie tried to insist, but Arthur just lifted him into the air again - sitting him down on his bed before shoving the sippy cup and Stegosaurus toy into his hands.

“Don’t worry, bud. Why don’t you just drink down your milk and play with your stuffie while I take care of everything, alright?”

“I-”

“Nuh-uh, buddy. No more talking till that whole cup is empty okay?”

Bertie tried to speak again, but Arthur was quick to direct the straw of the sippy cup into his mouth, cutting him off. He tried to wriggle away, but Arthur held him firm. With no other plan of action - he started to drink.

“What a good boy! Alright, first thing’s first let's get rid of these yucky undies.” Arthur commented, moving to hook his thumbs around the waistband of Bertie’s underpants.

Bertie let out a muffled moan of protest, but Arthur ignored him - briefly pushing the boy back onto his back so he could pull the underwear off in one solid motion before pulling him back into a seated position.

“I know they’re your favorite, but you can’t wear undies with nasty pee pee on them.” he explained, getting up to discard the underwear in the laundry hamper. Feeling extremely exposed, Bertie moved to clamber under his bed sheets - but Arthur was quicker on the drawer, darting back over to grab the little boy up again, standing him up on the carpet, and directing him out towards his wardrobe, his sippy cup remaing firmly in his mouth and the stegosaurus toy under his arm throughout the whole charade.

“Now, what do you want to wear today?” Arthur chimed playfully, picking out the most childish underwear he could find. Bertie recognized them all from the pack his Aunt Linda had given him.

“T-Rex? Triceratops? Oh, I know - a Stegosaurus!”

Bertie went to take his mouth away from the straw to spit out some pithy comment, but Arthur quickly reasserted his control - pushing it forcefully back into his mouth. He was powerless to do anything but hug the fuzzy toy for comfort and sip down his milk as Arthur instructed him to lift each one of his legs - pulling the babyish underwear high up around his waist.

“There we are, just like your stuffie. Does he have a name yet?”

There was a pregnant pause as Bertie finally finished up the drink before he pulled out the straw, giving a simple shake of his head.

“I was thinking you could call him Spike - because of all those scary looking spikes on his back!

“They’re plates, not spikes.” Bertie insisted, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He had hoped that the correction would come off as mature and academic, but it ended up coming out as more of a pedantic whine.

“They’re spikey aren’t they? So Spike it is!”

Bertie didn’t have the energy to argue about it, simply staring straight ahead and hugging Spike as Arthur went searching through his drawers in search of the rest of his clothes for the day. Fortunately, most of his other clothes were reasonably mature, or at least lacked the garish prints and pictures featured on his underwear - leading Arthur to settle on a simple pair of khaki shorts and a green and white striped polo shirt. Bertie had to put Spike down as Arthur pulled the polo over his head, guiding first his arms and then his head through the holes.

“The striped green Bertie-saurus in its natural habitat.” he teased, holding out the khakis for Bertie to step into.

When he was all dressed, Arthur leaned down to Bertie’s level and picked up Spike - shaking the toy back and forth and putting on an exaggerated gruff voice as if to impersonate what a dinosaur might sound like “Can you give me a roar, Bertie-saurus?”

Bertie shook his head, feeling very shy after everything that had happened.

“Come on Bertie, give me a roar!” Arthur repeated, still mimicking the toy.

“Roar.” he muttered, barely more than a whisper.

“You can do better than that. Roar!”

“Roar!” Bertie tried again, still rather unenthusiastically. He just hoped it would be good enough to make Arthur leave him alone.

“Maybe baby dinosaurs aren’t so good at roaring.” Arthur conceded “We’ll have to work on it.”

He handed back the toy before pulling the boy up into his arms again. Bertie let out a fussy hum of indignation, but there was nothing he could do to resist  “Come on, Bertie-saurus.” Arthur said affectionately  “It looks like it’s going to be a busy morning.”