This is still the longest fic I've ever done. I'm still forever grateful to everyone who has stuck by and given me so many kind words and inspiration through the years. Though the comments have slowly died off, the fact I still get random ones once every blue moon always gives me hope! I hope you all are still enjoying this fic as well as the new spin I decided to take on it C: Still the same, just a little bit slower burn and drama!
Greg was almost sure Rodrick took a different turn to spend more time holding his hand because once they got to the house, it was well past midnight. All the lights were off; for a second, Greg was freaking out about having to wake up their parents to open the locked door when Rodrick suddenly took one out from his back-jean pocket.
"When did you get a key?" Annoyed that he didn't get a key. Rodrick just shrugged his shoulders, opening the door quietly as he walked in, and letting go of Greg's hand in the process. Greg had forgotten they were even holding hands, something he silently cursed at himself for forgetting. Brushing it aside, thinking to himself it was because he was tired, he shuffled inside and took off his shoes. Shoulders sagging as his mind finally caught up with his body and realizing just how drained he was.
Greg had dragged himself to his suitcase. He started digging for his PJ pants and a baggy t-shirt. Rodrick was rummaging for his things on the other side of the couch, allowing Greg to rush to the bathroom first to be able to do his nightly routine, alone, in peace in quiet without being touched or kissed. After finishing brushing his teeth, Greg gazed at his reflection through the mirror, not liking what he was seeing. He looked like a wreck; dark circles were underneath his eyes, baggy, tired. His hair was sticking up in a weird direction, completely disheveled from when he had first left the house. Pulling his shirt collar down, he noticed the hickey Rodrick had left, already starting to bruise with burst vessels. Teeth marks were noticeable. Breathe shaky as he exhaled, his brain having a hard time trying to catch up with ever thought rushing through his mind.
Why. Why was this happening to him? Why was Rodrick doing this? Why was he even letting Rodrick do these things to him, enabling his sick way?
Questions Greg continued to repeat to himself over and over again, a broken record with no inch of ending. Grasping the side of the sink in his fists, he let himself the time to close his eyes and try to relax. To try and breathe, to focus, he needed to get through this. This wasn't going to be forever. He had a couple more years before he would be away for College. He would go far, far away.
Opening the door and walking out, he was greeted by Rodrick waiting against the wall in front of the washroom. Greg kept his gaze downwards, not bothering to turn off the light, considering Rodrick looked like he was waiting for him to finish. He was shuffling over to the bed that had been pulled out, no doubt by their mother before she went to bed. He felt the lightest of touches against his back, the drag of a finger dipping into the curve before it was gone. The back of his neck blossomed with goosebumps, flutter of his hair standing on end with that small, ghost-like pressure.
A small cry left his lips as he jumped towards the bed, hiding underneath the covers. He was curling in on himself on the farthest end of the bed, burying his face in the plush pillow that he was utterly thankful to have. He heard the bathroom door close, room engulfing in complete darkness, the only sound coming from the cricket's loud cries. Paranoia creeping, entangling his heart in a harsh tangle of webs, shutting his eyes to try and block it out.
When all was silent, and he paid attention, he heard everything that was happening around in the outside world, a blur of noises. The creaking of wood, bugs buzzing, small pebbles hitting the windows from the force of the howling wind, its cries sounding like ghosts singing you to sleep. Except Greg didn't feel like he could.
Greg wiggled himself deeper into his pillow, wrapping the cushion fiercely against his head to drown out the sounds. Eyes tightly shut as he tried to remind himself that everything would be okay. This wasn't forever. He would get an out one day. Wishing his body to calm itself, to breath, for his mind to just stop.
It had felt like hours before Rodrick ventured outside of the bathroom; in actuality, only twenty minutes had passed, and Greg was simply to hyper-aware of everything that everything seemed to be much slower than it was. The light had filtered slightly into the room before they were shut off. The creaking of wood signaled Rodrick was drawing near, the dip in the bed as he felt eyes bore into the back of his head. His breath evened out, Greg trying to play it off as if he had already fallen asleep, not wanting to give Rodrick a chance to do anything to him. Covers jostled, Rodrick arranging himself on the bed in the position he enjoyed the most. Greg's body was tense as he continued to even his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest, adding to the image.
His fists were balled around the blanket, scrunched in on himself as he continued to tell himself to just. Fall. Asleep. But nothing was happening, his mind still buzzed with activity, body feeling electrified and alive. Freezing up even more as Greg felt fingers push into his stiff shoulders, trailing their way up and down his neck and back, pressure continuously being added, making Greg hyper-aware of the warmth from how close Rodrick has seemed to scoot over.
"You won't sleep well if you keep your body so tense." Breath hitched when Rodrick spoke, Greg feeling himself tense even more from the touching, feeling trapped. Emotions swirling in the pit of his stomach, silently crying to himself that he just wanted to be left alone.
"Yeah, I wonder who could be making me feel tense right now." He spits out softly, a hissing tone to try and keep it a whisper. Rodrick stayed silent, which drove Greg even more over the edge. Though, the continuous, repetitive rubbing on his back was surprisingly really helpful, easing his body to just and relax. Body tingling after every touch, a soothing flow enveloping him, and calming his heart. In reality, it felt terrific, and Greg hated himself for allowing himself to feel that way, even more allowing Rodrick to continue whatever he was doing. Greg's body started to finally sag, his mind breathing a breath of fresh air as he began to get sleepy. Before he knew it, he finally started drifting off to sleep, the last thing Greg remembered feeling were fingers brushing lightly through his hair, petting him in a way Rodrick used to do to him when he was younger.
Greg started slowly waking up to his body, feeling hot, electrical jolts shooting up his spine as his tired mind was trying to process what exactly was going on, trying to catch up with his surroundings. The second thing he noticed once his mind started to un-cloud itself, was how unbelievably close Rodrick was. He felt fingers gripping his hips, arms encircling him, and pressing him closer, how Rodrick's hand were grasping at Greg's backside and ass, digging his fingernails in the soft flesh. Rodrick had his forehead pressed against Greg, warming breath fanning over his face. His breath was catching in his throat; his eye's softly widening as he stilled. His face lit up like a tomato, red hue warming his face to match his body.
What the hell was going on?
Rodrick was slowly rubbing his erection against Greg's growing swell; they're PJ bottoms the only barrier between them. The sensation soft and electric, a moan was falling softly from his lips with the added pressure of a particularly hard roll of Rodrick's hips. What the hell was he doing? Greg had half a mind to push Rodrick to wake up when a small roll of his eyes upwards sowed him that not only was Rodrick very much awake, but those half-lidded dark eyes of his were staring at Greg's face.
An unreadable expression stretched across Rodrick's face, his warm pant intermingling with Greg's soft breathes of arousal. Greg's temper suddenly flared, half a mind to chew Rodrick off at that moment when a sudden jolt of pleasure racked his body, a gasp escaping his mouth. The arms around him tightened, Rodrick quickening his pace, grunts, and groans falling from both of them. A coiling heat in the pit of their stomach, their thighs, and abs were tightening with each stroke.
"Rodrick. Sto-Aah." His whisper came out more like a moan, eyes shutting, losing himself in the sensation as the buildup intensified. Every friction against his cock was causing spikes to shoot up his spine, Rodrick faring no better as his thrusts quickened, breathing erratic, heartbeat jumping out of their chests.
Pleasure blinding as his release surged forward, a groan about to fall from his parted lips when Rodrick drew forward and smashed their lips together. Greg's whimper of release was drowned out by the tongue massaging itself against his own, their bodies seizing as cum splattered within the inside of their pants. The holds they had on each other were firm, gripping, suffocating as they both rode the high, and the only way to ground themselves was by the arms gripping one another.
The comedown was when Greg started to regain all sensation and thought process. His body was tensing in the darkened room, the wind howling outside, reflecting how shattered he felt inside. A scream stuck in the back of his throat as his gasps for air started bubbling out of his chest. Greg felt something coming; his heart aching with hurt as he wrenched himself away from Rodrick. Without a second glance, Greg sprinted as quietly as he could towards the washroom, the hand grasping at his chest a shock to him as he found himself sitting on the floor next to the toilet. When had he even opened the light and locked the door? His hands were shaking, brows furrowed as he looked at them, and unreadable expression stretched across his face, his eyes showing more hurt than what he was able to handle emotionally.
He was disgusted. It had been disgusting, and he didn't know why he didn't try harder to make it stop. Rodrick was his brother; they shouldn't have done something like this while their parents slept, not even five meters away. Holly crossed his mind, the actions of what just transpired quickly, blocking all thoughts of thinking about how his classmate would think about all of this. He couldn't tell anyone. Ever. He was humiliated and disgusted with him.
Rodrick had caged him once again into something he didn't want to do. He knew he didn't want to do it because his mind kept screaming at him, his heart had wanted to stop, but his body had felt like it had lost all control. His brain fog as he rode out those sensations, feeling the pleasure flow through his blood and nerves. A raw hunger had surfaced in that instance, and it was something he had no idea how to handle. He felt dirty. He wanted a shower; he needed a shower. That's what Greg went and did. It was like clockwork, with a set goal in mind, he got off the floor and turned the shower to the coldest setting, the spray willing to wake him up from his apparent nightmare. Stepping inside once all clothing was removed, he stood there as the shower beat down on him, skin going red from the coldness he felt, the ache in his chest matching the numbness on his skin.
Greg clawed at his chest, feeling the tightness, constricting, breathing, feeling a lot harder to do now that he was alone and hurting. The tears were already starting to fall down his cheeks, eyes staring blanking at the wall opposite of him and focusing and trying to map out the cracks in the tiles, to ground himself from the inner turmoil wrecking his thoughts. His hatred, this maddening anger which should have been directed at Rodrick, was only being dumped back onto himself.
He hadn't tried to stop it hard enough. Greg had once again let Rodrick run all over him, taking control and using Greg up like the toy he was. Fingers threading through his wet hair, pulling at it, trying to cause a different kind of pain than the one he couldn't stop feeling betting through his chest. The misery he was feeling through every nerve of his body at how dirty he still felt.
He wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed and never wake up, but that was impossible at this point. Rodrick was there, and Greg just didn't think he'd be able to fall back asleep. Rodrick got off on him. They got off on each other. The hardest part was how Greg had enjoyed it.
He chocked as his body started shaking once more, sobs racking his body and not knowing if it was from the realization that he enjoyed it or the fact the cold water was starting to make him number than he felt. A knock resounded on the door, quiet and quick, three raps to show that someone was there. Body stilled, breathing harshly as his eyes were blown, frightened at making noise. A hand covering his mouth to help muffle the sobs flowing out of him like a tidal wave.
"Open the door, Greg." A hiccup at hearing Rodrick's voice through the door, a low and soft rumbling noise that drew at Greg. But he couldn't. He couldn't see Rodrick right now when he felt this way. This void.
Body shaking as he slid to the bottom of the tub, turning the water to a medium setting as to at least not lose all feeling everywhere. He didn't want to die from hyperthermia despite how much he wanted to just disappear in general. He tried to scream most of all, to let his anger and frustration out onto the world without fear of getting judged or getting even more hurt.
But he couldn't do anything like that; he couldn't even talk to anyone, he was Powerless, helpless, and weak.
He was a grade-A wimpy kid.
