A/N: So there's been some confusion and I'm going to apologize because it was most definitely my fault. To clear everything up, Greg won the bet. With his patience and dedication to his brother by hiding the bruises until they were practically nothing and lying to his mother when forced into a confrontation with her, Greg had managed not to tattle.

Which means a lot.

I apologize for the lack of update. I've been so busy, and creative energies are being spent on other stories. I don't mean that the others are more important, I just have to be fair with updating.

Never, not in a million years did Greg ever feel there was even the slightest hope that one day he was going to have his older brother to himself; without being tormented, mocked, bullied, teased, and otherwise mistreated as he had been for much of his entire life. As was the older brother's God-given right, Rodrick had gone mostly unpunished in his actions and lived carefree doing whatever he pleased. Now that scales were tipped in Greg's favour he was understandably excited about it.

Rodrick hadn't said much when Greg had gloriously announced that he was the winner, and Greg was careful not to rub it in. After all, he was only going on Rodrick's word that he would be his Slave. The real thing was probably different.

After supper was the only opportunity that Greg had to speak to Rodrick since the incident that afternoon. And there wasn't a chance in hell he was going to let it pass.

"Where are you going?" Greg asked casually, following Rodrick up the stairs. It was more of an ice-breaker than anything. Greg knew that Rodrick, like all the other teenagers in the world, was going to his room.

"To the attic, duh."

The tiny ball of hope grew in Greg's stomach. "Can I come?"

What he'd been expecting, Greg didn't know. Maybe a shrug, or a harsh no. He definitely did not expect Rodrick to turn and look at him square in the eye all exasperated - like you'd typically find an older brother when dealing with a younger one - and say what he did next.

"Of course, Greg. I am your Slave. You don't have to ask. Just do."

Stunned, Greg watched Rodrick take another step. "Really? You're really going through with it?" He hurried to keep up, taking the last stairs two at a time despite that his legs weren't nearly as long as Rodrick's.

"I have no choice," Rodrick said solemnly, and Greg caught on to the hint of playfulness laying beneath his brother's words.

"Alright then," Greg challenged. "Do my chores."

As they made their way up to Rodrick's bedroom, the older brother just laughed. "Fat chance, little bro. Besides, do you really want me doing them for you?"

Reaching the landing, Greg seriously thought about it. "No," he said finally, remembering with vivid detail how Rodrick was banned from doing most household chores due to the fact that he always seemed to conveniently screw everything up. Taking out the garbage seemed to be the only chore Rodrick was allowed, willing, and capable to do.

"That's right. So what's your first wish Master?" Rodrick asked, slumping down into his spinning chair and picking up a CD from the floor. Not that it wasn't the only thing scattered across the floor of his messy room; Greg had to tiptoe between dirty underwear and drumsticks to take a seat on the bed.

What was he? A Genie or something? "I don't really know yet. This is good, just hanging out."

"At least make it a little unbearable for me. Jeeze," Rodrick muttered, his teasing attitude still thick even though he was clearly distracted in looking at the CD in his hands. As if coming to a decision he put it into his laptop and pumped the volume. After eight, Rodrick wasn't allowed to blast it out of the surround sound system he had set up, so this would have to do.

Then with music washing out everything else, Rodrick turned his full attention to his little brother for the first time in what seemed like ages. Admittedly, Greg was a little surprised at how good his older brother was being to him, but he decided not to pout about the past or ponder his incredible luck. Instead, Greg was going to take full advantage of his brother's good attitude. After all, he'd really worked hard for it.

"Earth to Greg! I said make it a little unbearable for me. If you're just going to sit there grinning like an idiot, then get out."

"Sorry," Greg spluttered, silently cursing himself for not following through on his "don't pout about the past" rule. "I'm just excited."

Rodrick eyed his little brother, then he swung his feet onto a stool and leaned back casually, grabbing a pencil from his desk. "Whatever."

Complete attention? Gone.

For some reason, Greg was becoming nervous. Usually Greg had no problem telling people what to do, but Rodrick was different. So instead Greg placed his head in his hands and told himself to think, much like Winnie the Pooh in those old cartoons.

Think! Think! Think!

There was no possible excuse for messing this up! He'd have to start up a conversation or something, but what was there to talk about? What did he usually talk about?

But then –

"So you have a date with Holly. Gotta say you were pretty smooth. Where'd that come from? The Greg I know is a clumsy idiot." Villainous eyes glinted, and Rodrick's wild hair seemed to add to the effect that he was kind of dangerous. How was it the older brother could turn this side of himself on and off whenever he pleased?

He was used to playing Greg like a puppet – but not this time. Not about Greg's special person.

"Shut up, Slave," Greg hissed through tightly clenched teeth. "Did I say you could speak about Holly?"

As he said her name, Greg's stomach doubled over as if he really was just remembering how he had asked the blonde out. And she hadn't even given him a final answer in the matter. Didn't she say she would call Greg back later? How much later? It was already 8:30...

"Woah, that's more like it," Rodrick's eyes snapped to amused attention and all traces of his wild bruise-giving side disappeared as he leaned forward to Greg, chin in his hands and elbows on his legs. "What do you want to do, Master Greg?"

A small shiver ran through Greg's spine at these words. Rodrick was seriously enjoying this for some reason. If it was a game, then maybe Greg would play along. But what he wanted to do, he had no idea. He was – as he had said – perfectly fine with just sitting there and talking bullshit with Rodrick, or watching stupid YouTube videos.

But obviously Rodrick couldn't stand sitting still, so Greg sighed. "Um, we could go for a walk or something."

Rodrick groaned, standing up and tapping his foot. He looked very impatient and he stared at Greg as if being tested beyond limits the younger brother could understand. "Look, Greg. I'm trying to get into this. But if you're going to be my Master you need to grow a fucking pair of balls and start acting like one, otherwise I'm not going to be a very good Slave. Got it?"

Greg was startled – again. What the hell was going on? There was no way he was supposed to have a responsibility as a Master. That wasn't fair! "Wait a second, that wasn't what we agreed on!"

Rodrick snarled. "You think we're playing a kid's game?" he asked sternly. "You're not a kid, are you?"

Greg swallowed hard at this trick question. Well, he wasn't technically a kid; and he wasn't really an adult either. What was he at the moment other than the fly caught in Rodrick's spiderweb? "No," he finally decided, drawing his shoulders out to correct his posture and display confidence.

"That's what I thought too," Rodrick said with a simple nod. "Now, I'm not doing a time-out again. You are going to feed me; give me water; sleep with me; keep me clean; entertain me; everything. Got it? Now are you taking me for a walk or not?"

The next thing Greg knew, he was walking down the sidewalk with Rodrick on his side. The older brother was strolling care-freely, one hand stuffed into a tight pocket, the other holding on firmly to his younger brother's hand. Greg could've sworn there was a small skip in his step, but perhaps his eyes were playing tricks on him again in the darkness of this abandoned street.

Not only did Greg have any idea how he had let this happen, or even how they had ended up on the street in the first place, he didn't have time to really think about it either. Rodrick was being a handful in more ways than one. He was acting like a jerk.

Any time Greg asked a question, Rodrick would ignore him. He had asked Rodrick to wait – just a second – as he tried to understand what was going on. Was he really expected to keep Rodrick clean? And sleep with him? A large lump formed in Greg's throat. This had to be some sort of joke. When would Rodrick get bored of it?

Greg struggled – trying to release his hand from Rodrick's grasp but the older brother was strong and combined with the very long strides he was taking, it was looking impossible. So finally, Greg gave up.

They walked in silence, around the block and heading towards a 24/7 grocery store that they sometimes frequented. Greg distantly remembered the last time they had been there was four months ago and they had decided that egging cars was the most appropriate choice of time spent.

"What are we doing here?" Greg asked warily, expecting the same cold shoulder his brother had been giving him so far with each question. But Rodrick surprised Greg by turning and looking at him, acknowledging his presence. The eyes were dangerous, Greg noted with a skipped beat of his heart and a panic rising. Then again... "Don't give me that look," he said sternly. "I asked you a question, so you better damn well answer before I have to repeat myself." Woah. Where that came from, Greg wasn't even really sure. Somehow he felt like he could channel his own inner-Rodrick rather easily.

Rodrick grinned, releasing Greg's hand and pointing at the store. "Your Slave is hungry."

Greg's mouth dropped. "No way! We just had supper!" Besides, Greg only had ten dollars on him, and that was meant for the movie he was supposed to be going to with Holly. "Rodrick, you can't seriously expect me – "

The dangerous look was back. "I said I am hungry. Are you going to feed me, Master?"

Greg's eyebrows pulled together in a very deep frown; a frown that should have never graced his face until he was dealing with a teenage son of his own. How long was this game going to last? At the moment, in this dangerous street with his highly unpredictable, possibly manic older brother, it seemed very unlikely Greg was going to get his answers or his way in the matter.

"Fine."

They walked into the store together, Greg pocketing both of his hands before his brother could take one again. He all but marched behind his brother as Rodrick pulled a few bags of chips and candy off the shelves, looking very smug indeed.

At the checkout, Greg glared as Rodrick dumped the food onto the belt and then unwrapped an unpaid for lollipop and put it into his mouth.

"You ungrateful jerk," Greg hissed as the woman gave him the total - $9.96.

Rodrick bent forward, taking the lollipop out of his mouth as he practically glued it to Greg's ear in old fashioned secret telling. "Thanks, Master."

For some reason the warm breathe of his brother's words hitting his ear like that caused several shivers to roll down his body and back up again. He shoved his brother away from himself; paid the cashier; grabbed the bag of sweets and stomped out of the store.

This was definitely not what he'd been expecting when he agreed to the bet.

Once home, Rodrick sat in his spinning chair happily, opening a bag of liquorice and digging in. He hummed along to the music in his laptop – a different CD altogether now. Greg did not say a word. Instead he opted to sit in the farthest corner of Rodrick's bed and pout.

Literally his bottom lip was stuck out on its own, threatening to shake any second with the oncoming tears the younger boy could feel stinging behind his eyes. It was taking all of Greg's will power not to cry. After all, he'd won, hadn't he? Here he was sitting with Rodrick again.

But Greg knew the older brother loved to play games and tease him; he shouldn't have expected anything more. Perhaps he had been the fool after all to assume that it was going to be fun in the first place.

These thoughts just made it all so unfair, and Greg was trying to hold himself together as best he could with Rodrick ten feet away. "I quit this game," he mumbled, almost so low he couldn't even hear himself that well. But somehow Rodrick had heard him.

"If you quit, then roles reverse. I become Master," he said, eyes glinting maliciously.

Where was he getting this from?

"No!" Greg said, sternly. "If I quit then this whole thing is over with."

Rodrick crossed his arms, looking poignantly lazy about the way Greg was overreacting. "I don't want a quitter as a Master. You shook on it, little bro. You're the one that has to deal with it."

It was very hard for Greg to reach deep into his chest and pull out some courage, but he did – amazingly. "I didn't shake on this!" he said, indicating what exactly "this" was with a dramatic wave of his arms between the two of them. "I don't want to be your babysitter!"

"You're the one being a baby," Rodrick said, voice sickly sweet and mocking.

Greg's hands shook. He was confused and angry, and his brother was calling him a baby, which was just making him even more embarrassed than before. As always, Rodrick knew exactly what to say to make Greg miserable. Greg did not want to be a baby; he wanted to be cool and grown-up. Just like Rodrick was.

"I'm not," the younger brother finally said quietly.

"I can't hear you," Rodrick said, voice crisp and pleasant as he cupped his hand dramatically around his ear and leaned forward to hear Greg repeat himself.

"I said, I'm not a baby... and I won't quit," Greg seethed, wiping away all baby tears with the rage that was coming on strong. "But I will be the meanest Master, ever! And you'll have no choice, as my Slave, to do whatever I say!"

Rodrick nodded obediently, eyes twinkling as he set down the bag of liquorice and got up to move to the bed with Greg. "How mean?" Rodrick asked, almost delighted.

Greg frowned thoughtfully. "Like an ogre," he decided.

"Are you going to punch me?" Rodrick asked as he sat down right next to Greg and moved his face so it was in the younger brother's personal space.

"No!" Greg shouted indignantly. He wasn't just going to punch his brother just because he could. Actually, physical violence was the last thing Greg wanted to get into, but Rodrick just grabbed Greg's hand and curled it into a fist for him, poising it on his angled cheekbone. Greg's heart began racing, pumping blood into his ears and it made the next words his brother spoke very hard to hear.

"Won't you punish me if I'm bad?"

"I-I won't need to punish because, you'll do as I say!" Greg said, trying and failing to be assertive. "Now, get away from me. Go sit over there!"

"But your Slave wants to sit next to you, Master. Especially such a kind Master. You won't even punish me if I'm being disobedient."

Greg's entire face burned with the embarrassment of it all. Why it was so embarrassing, he couldn't really explain. All he knew was that whenever Rodrick said "Master" or "Slave" there was something sickening to it and the sudden closeness and unexpected touches from his older brother was making his heart race nervously.

He wished it would just stop already!

Yet Rodrick was still leaning impossibly closer to Greg, their faces only inches away from each other. "A Master shouldn't just let his Slave get away with everything. Who knows what they will do."

A/N: Rodrick is so manipulative. D;

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