A/N: bahahaha okay here you go.

Chapter Eighteen

Once alone, Greg was consumed.

He clasped his hand over his recently violated mouth and fell to his knees – inches away from his bed. Hitting the floor didn't concern him. His whole mind was pre-occupied being concerned with one, shameful question. How could he have let that happen? Rodrick's insults burned hot on repeat as wave after wave of confusing pleasure hit the young boy. Slut. Slave. Bitch. "Aahh, nnno." Trembling words and a coarse voice - it hurt to speak but Greg couldn't help the sound escaping him. It was too much. His body felt weak and hot and he couldn't stop his hand from reaching down; slipping under his waistband to finally give himself some release.

Shit, it felt too good.

"You were meant to suck cock."

Oh god, Greg could still feel it. He could still fucking feel his brother in his mouth, pushing in good and deep as he scraped the back of his throat, pulsing cum. "Nnn." Even as he began to touch himself, Greg was thinking that he definitely shouldn't be aroused. At one point he thought he was going to die. It'd been painful; degrading; selfish of Rodrick when Greg hadn't been able to breathe.

He'd just been too shocked to do anything else but open his mouth wide and let it happen.

Now he was alone, stroking himself like he really was one of those words Rodrick claimed and completely unable to comprehend what had just happened – only trying to satiate the aching lust deep inside of him.

"You like it when I fuck your mouth."

Greg choked out a sob in the darkness, curling in on himself and pulling his pants right off. He jerked himself harder this time, hips twisting against the hardwood as he imagined Rodrick's hands on his body.

It was excruciating.

oOoOoOoOoO

The fact of the matter was that Rodrick didn't feel as terrible as he should have. Seeing Greg so happy as he lovingly cared for their youngest brother just set something off within him and he'd snapped - brimming with need to impress upon Greg that he wasn't fucking around. Rodrick wanted to own him; would even hurt the boy to get his way. Losing it again wouldn't be good. No. You see, Rodrick was very calculating indeed, and that was the last thing he needed.

Yet how could he not get excited? Stupid Greg. He was falling into his hands more and more each day. He was seriously not telling anyone, anything, for the sake of their brotherhood.

Fucking idiot.

Not putting up a fight was driving Rodrick crazy.

"Greg! Breakfast!"

The crisp voice of Susan Heffley floated through the attic door, and Rodrick paused at the bottom of his stairs and lent an ear against the oak – eavesdropping on the conversation in the hall.

There came two sharp knocks, then an audible gasp. "Honey, you look awful!"

Did he? Rodrick's heartbeat quickened and suddenly it was tough to hear anything through the hardwood.

"I'm fine," Greg croaked just as Rodrick eased the door open quietly, stepping into the shadows of the hall. Greg sounded absolutely awful – yet just the memory of that small mouth had Rodrick aching for more already.

"Do you have a throat infection? It could be strep. Open your mouth I'll take a look."

Greg shook his head, an irrational defense taking over him. He shoved his mother away, clasping a hand over his mouth tightly.

"Greg, what's wrong?" Susan asked. "I'm worried."

"Well don't be," Greg spat. "I'm sick and tired of being babied. I'm old enough to know when I'm okay!" These scratchy, throaty words said so angrily made Rodrick chuckle.

"Listen, Greg's hit puberty!" he called aloud to the house.

"Rodrick, downstairs. Now."

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Greg hated that evil smile Rodrick gave him all through breakfast. It was sure to do with the comment he'd made about hitting puberty. The way those dark eyes swept over his body, Greg knew he was being watched within an inch of his life. "Why are you in such a good mood?" Frank asked his oldest son as he tucked in for a mountain of pancakes. "I thought you're grounded now."

"Yea, bummer," Rodrick sighed, smile wiped from his face at once.

"Grounded?" Greg repeated. His hoarse voice drew attention from the entire table and Frank Heffley cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Anyway, apologize to your brother."

Rodrick swiftly gazed at Greg who had only just realized his family thought it really was a puberty-related voice change and Rodrick had gotten in trouble for claiming such. "Sorry Greg," the dark teen muttered. Greg tried to hide his face. He felt like he was burning up. It was Rodrick who had done these things to him. He was definitely not sorry – and Greg was definitely not talking to him for the rest of the day.

It was going well, until just past two in the afternoon when the doorbell rang. Greg was called up from the basement – where he'd spent an hour watching Frank Heffley put the final touches on a collection of figurines – to meet Rowley on the front step, grinning ear to ear.

"Hi Greg!" the wide boy said.

"Rowley, what are you doing here?" Greg asked, although he stepped out of the way beckoning his friend inside. His best friend had been about to say something, but then eyes sharpened as he looked over Greg's shoulder.

"Hi Rodrick."

Greg tensed immediately. He could feel the looming presence of his brother behind him and it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He really hated the tingling of his goosebumps – and how they were really noticeable at the moment because he had foolishly decided to wear a tank.

"Hey Pudgey," the older brother greeted with chipper malevolence, hand squeezing Rowley's cheeks together as he leaned forward over Greg. "Long time no see. You babies hanging out today?" As he spoke, Rodrick's other hand slid down Greg's back, curving over his small frame.

What was he doing?

Fingers began to dig into the crease along his pants and Greg wanted to die of shame. First of all, Rowley was already onto something, yet Rodrick was touching him like this in broad daylight! It also didn't help things that Greg had a suspiciously raspy voice. If they weren't careful Rowley would definitely find out, especially if Greg didn't stop squirming so much under those fingers.

"Well we didn't have any plans really... I just thought we could do something..." Rowley was looking at Greg imploringly, gesturing to the outdoors. "Holly has that pool, remember? Now that you don't have to hide the bruise we can –"

"What?"

The probing, teasing fingers stopped at once. Greg knew he was doomed. Fear struck Rowley as soon as he realized what he had done. "Uh – I mean..."

"The fuck did you say?" Rodrick growled, quiet and low – demanding that Rowley repeat himself. His hand curled together roughly, grabbing a sizeable chunk of Greg's ass and gripping so hard Greg didn't know if he could stand the pain much longer.

Silence. Rowley definitely couldn't repeat it and Greg really hoped he wouldn't either.

Then Rodrick removed his hand, placing it instead on the large front door, menace practically oozing from his pores. "Get. Lost."

SLAM.

Rodrick turned cold, cruel eyes on his younger brother then grabbed a fistful of his hair; tugging so roughly Greg's whole body followed it backwards. He was going to snap Greg's neck right off! Then Rodrick's arm slid under his, pulling it back and into an arm lock - leaving Greg only one small, weak hand to fight his brother off. "Be a good boy and come quietly, Greg. Don't – make – a – sound."

Greg's stomach felt like it was curling in on itself.

The excitement hit him first; then the nausea as he was pushed forward, tripping over his two feet before regaining balance. Greg was scared and his heart was pounding as it usually did in Rodrick's presence. He did not protest as he was shoved – a silent demand that he better start walking. Greg definitely did not want to disobey, so he made his way up the stairs quietly, stopping only when he was in front of the door to the attic. He tentatively reached out for the doorknob and then gulped back a bit of the anxious butterflies that made him want to double over.

He was going to die.

When Greg finally turned the knob and opened the door, Rodrick nudged him forward again. The young brother turned his head slightly as he took a hesitant step forward; Rodrick was looking over his shoulder to ensure that nobody would see them. As Greg began to climb the stairs of the attic room, the door locked behind him and then Rodrick snapped.

"What the fuck, Greg. Why does that fat little hippo know about your bruise?"

Greg's knees went week as he climbed the rest of the stairs - he couldn't speak; couldn't respond to the question. He was absolutely frozen in terror as Rodrick advanced forward, grabbing him by the neck and using brute force to slam Greg's small body onto the floor.

Beg.

"Please... Rodrick – I –" Greg's arm was yanked roughly, pulling his dead weight from the floor and back up standing just so Rodrick could drag him over to the bed. He panicked; throat tight as he pleaded in a raspy voice, struggling weakly against his brother's grasp. "N-no, please Rodrick... no..." Greg turned full puppy dog eyes onto his older brother as he landed on the mattress with a soft thud. Instinctively he reached out, both hands clasping onto his brother's arm so that it could stop any further abuse. He didn't want to be hit, or dragged, or have his hair pulled and his eyes teared at the thought of Rodrick hating him that much.

"Please, I-I'm sorry," he continued, sensing the way Rodrick seemed to hesitate. For a split second, Greg thought the begging was really working, but all hope vanished as Rodrick brushed off his grip like it was nothing but an annoyance and fingers curled into his hair, bringing Greg forward onto his knees.

Beg harder.

"I'm sorry Master!" he choked desperately. The word made Greg's stomach turn uneasily, but the way Rodrick's eyes sparked and the slightly loosened grip of his scalp forced the small boy to continue. "Please Master, I-I'm sorry..."

Rodrick smirked – evil and cruel as it had been all day – and it made Greg's heart twist. How could he enjoy this so thoroughly?

"Are you suggesting that I let you go unpunished, Slave?" Rodrick purred, bending forwards a bit and cupping Greg's teary face in one strong hand. "That's going to take a lot of convincing." Rodrick emphasized the last word by breathing it in Greg's ear. A warm shudder sparked along Greg's spine and goosebumps spread over his body once again.

It wasn't hard to figure out what Rodrick was getting at, but still Greg choked on his words. "Con-convincing?"

Dark, mirthful eyes held Greg's as Rodrick took a seat on the bed; his back against the headboard. "Yea. You have one minute to change my mind. Clock's ticking."

Greg's heart seized in his chest. What was he expected to do? And he only had a minute? As seconds passed, Greg contemplated his choices. Lose his last remaining ounce of dignity, or try to make it downstairs before Rodrick could. The last option didn't seem like it would go over very well; if he was caught then Greg would be in an even worse position so…

Goodbye dignity.

Greg crawled forwards, sliding into his brother's lap like he had been doing it all of his life. His small legs were straddled on either side of Rodrick and he had to balance on his knees to remain atop. Then warm hands were placed on his hips forcing them down and against a hardening bulge in Rodrick's jeans.

"Uh-huh this is good... what else Greg?"

Body burning, Greg hesitantly leaned forward to press lips against Rodrick's. He didn't know what or why he was doing it, but perhaps the self preservation came naturally. It was kiss or be killed.

With this, Rodrick's tight grip twisted Greg's smaller body against his chest - sending those damn confusing hot thrills to a lot of places. How could anything feel this good if it was so bad?

Rodrick slowly began to grind.

"Kiss me with your tongue, Greg. Make me hot."

"B-but I – don't know how."

Greg was melting. That was the only way to describe the intense heat that made him weak as Rodrick breathed so warmly in his ear and pressed his hard body against Greg's stiffening member.

"Time's almost up. Better do it quickly."

Heart hammering, Greg didn't respond – clenching his jaw tightly together as Rodrick's hands ran smooth along his torso, pulling his shirt higher. Then Rodrick clenched firmly – pulling Greg's skin tight and causing Greg to curl in a whine.

"Rodrick – "

Rodrick stuck out his tongue and licked Greg's lips. They opened, allowing the tongue to twist and fill Greg's mouth. Head swirling, he clutched Rodrick's shirt to steady himself as he was overcome with desire. Teeth scraped as Rodrick bit and sucked the flesh; pornographically kissing his brother. "St-op," Greg whined as his body betrayed him. Any more of this he was going to burst.

Rodrick stopped immediately, but Greg didn't have time to be disappointed either, because the buttons on his jeans were being worked on. "W-wait, what are you – "

In a quick motion, the jeans were pulled down just enough to reveal Greg's underwear.

"Woah, Greg you're soaking wet."

"No, don't look – "

Too late. Rough hands had practically ripped the pants right off Greg's small frame. And yes, admittedly Greg's underwear was pretty wet. The poor boy leaked every time the warm shivers shook him excitedly.

"Mmm, you like this so much, Greg. But I can't let you go unpunished."

The butterflies in Greg's stomach just heightened his senses. He froze in terror yet again as Rodrick grabbed his face - rubbing his thumb over Greg's kiss-swollen lips.

"My brother the cocksucker. What do you think, Greg. Wanna suck me a little?"

The words sparked a memory of the night before and Greg's eyes widened in horror. He tried shaking his head but Rodrick had a firm hold of his jaw and all he managed to do was fight the tears and plead silently. Then a slow smirk spread on Rodrick's face as he pressed two fingers against Greg's lips and forced the mouth open.

"If you want it to feel good, get them wet Greg."

The warm fingers rolled along Greg's tongue – tasting salty as they scissored his mouth. Terrified, Greg couldn't understand these words. What would feel good? Surely not this. His sensitive throat was causing him to gag already, and Rodrick's fingers were probing so deeply his head began to swirl.

"Wha-sh you gonna do?" Greg asked as the fingers slid across his tongue. He was nervous, and did not like the look in Rodrick's eyes at all. Hadn't he begged? And pleaded?

"I'm gonna finger you hard, Greg, you squealing little slut. So make sure they're fucking wet." Trying not to gag, Greg fought the intrusion. He still didn't quite understand what Rodrick was trying to do, but it didn't sound nice and now he was panicking as he remembered exactly what happened the night before and realized it could happen again.

"N - sstop – Rod - !"

Finally, the older brother released Greg's face. He smiled oh so cruelly. "If you're good, it won't hurt. If you're bad – "

Greg's exposed body was turned over; his head pressed into the mattress; and his lower body raised high up in the air by those strong hands. It was all frightening. Greg was still so dizzy from the kiss – and a part of him was really excited at this attention, which Rodrick didn't allow to go unnoticed.

"You really make it so hard to resist, Greg," Rodrick murmured as his hands ran rough against his brother's smooth, bare skin. Exposing every bit of him as expert fingers pulled at the waistband of Greg's underwear. "I swear to God, if you tell anyone– "

Admittedly, it was hard to hear anything over the hammering of Greg's heart. He tried to control his breathing as best as he could – but every breath burned his throat and he ended up gasping like a fish out of water.

"If you do, they'll know exactly what a whore you are. I'll make sure of that. Understand?"

Of course he understood. Greg hadn't squealed for precisely this reason. He didn't want anyone to look down on him – didn't want anyone to know how weak he was.

"I won't tell!" he choked in response as he felt the probing of a wet finger around his entrance. His stomach flopped in a way that made Greg both anxious and scared. "I won't – so please don't hurt me."

"You think I trust you Greg? I thought the agreement was that you wouldn't tell anyone about the fucking bruise?" Rodrick's voice was raising and Greg whimpered as the teasing finger prodded his hole. The intrusion caused Greg to choke in shock. "Or maybe you just can't help but show off your body to your fat little faggot friend, huh?"

"N-noo!"

It was beginning to hurt. Rodrick's finger was not being gentle as it forced the second knuckle deeper. Greg could already feel it stretching him – could already feel spasms along his spine - numbing him completely.

"Do you know what mom said to me today, as she was grounding me?"

The question was asked just as a second wet digit was pressed against Greg – who felt full and uncomfortable, weak and hot as he kneeled at his brother's mercy. He couldn't respond to the question – afraid that if he opened his mouth he would scream.

"She said I had to give you the talk, now that you've hit puberty. Set the example as the big brother."

"Mmmnn!"

Gritted teeth bit back a shriek as the second finger wedged its way roughly into Greg's ass. He opened his eyes, which were brimming with tears from pain alone, and looked back at Rodrick; staring in disbelief at the idea that this was happening.

"If you want I can get her in here – show her I'm doing a good job – show her your stretched ass after I set the fucking example."

The words were followed by the immediate movement of both fingers. They slid out – achingly slowly and Greg whimpered the entire time. When they were out he took a deep breath, hand shaking as they curled into his brother's sheets. "I'm sorry. Please – no more… it hurts…"

Rodrick's teeth ripped into his lips, looking as if he really wanted to devour poor Greg. "Oh but don't you want to cum, Greg? Isn't it feeling really good?"

Was it? Greg wasn't sure. Now that the pain was leaving, he realized he was still aroused and now left with a difficult sensitivity that overpowering. Every touch from Rodrick was so hot it burned, and as the fingers were pressed against his hole again, Rodrick pulled Greg's leg high in the air, spreading him wide open.

Chills ran down Greg's body. He tensed immediately as both fingers pressed against him in forbidden earnest. "Stop – please – I'm sorry!"

"Be quiet," Rodrick hissed. He pulled Greg's leg backward, bringing the boy - who was trying weakly to crawl away - right up against him and locked him that way by twisting the leg in his hand. "Open up, Greg."

Greg couldn't help but feel everything this time – he could feel the long fingers every inch of the way and he felt like Rodrick was going to rip him in half. All of his strength left him as the pain took over – he could only senselessly moan into the sheets as the fingers quickened in their pace. Faster and faster.

After a few minutes, Greg began to feel strange. Weak as ever, but not as tense. He was delirious and unable to respond to any of Rodrick's teasing.

"See? It's working. What a loose, slutty little ring you have now."

It wasn't really hurting anymore, per se. But to Greg, he still felt very uncomfortable. Those fingers were working up a faster rhythm, filling him up and then ripping out – causing a very slick noise to fill the room. "Sounds nice, Greg. Aaah, do you feel good?"

"N-no – hurts…"

"Still? Poor little brother. I'm giving you so much attention and it's still not enough."

To Greg, it was a strange way of putting the situation. He wouldn't have called this 'getting attention' but, what else was it? He'd truly gotten his wish of being with Rodrick, he had just never dreamed it would have been like this; doing such dirty, wrong things.

Just as he was about to choke out one last, pleading sob for it all to end, Rodrick's free, smooth hand released his leg and slid up along Greg's side – grazing his hip before curling around to rub his stomach. "D'you want to jack off while I finger you?" the older brother murmured into Greg's ear – words breathy and lustful. "Turn over." Even though it was taking all of Greg's strength, he obeyed, willing himself onto his back even though he was terrified. It was best to do what Rodrick said, or else he'd get punished.

Rodrick removed his fingers for the first time in what seemed like an eternity to Greg, who breathed out and tried not to hiccup on his own panic. The older teen straddled either side of Greg's hips with his legs, taking off his belt and releasing his own – more endowed – cock that Greg was already much too familiar with.

He glanced away and Rodrick laughed mirthlessly, grabbing Greg's face as he forced the boy to look at his exposed member. "Don't worry Greg, you'll soon learn to love it. You'll crawl on your knees begging for me to give you this, just wait."

Greg shook his head back and forth just as Rodrick grabbed both of Greg's wrists and brought them down –guiding Greg to touch him. Fluids oozed clear and sticky onto his hands. "Aahh, mm. That's good Greg."

Entranced, Greg worked his fingers over his brother with minimal guidance. He had already grown familiar to this stiff length – having it shoved into his throat already. This was much easier in comparison.

"Yea, keep going." Rodrick groaned as he bent over the side of his bed, long limbs stretching and picking up something off the ground. Greg could feel the heat in his fingers travel all the way up his arms and to his face – flushing and panting as if he was running a marathon but really he was just trying to comprehend exactly what was happening. He watched as Rodrick pulled himself back up straight, producing a drumstick in one of his hands. "This'll be fun."

Greg stared oh so innocently up at Rodrick, unable to fathom the cause for that wicked smile yet again. What did the drumstick have to do with anything? And more importantly, why were his hands still sliding along his brother's length?

He stopped at once, just as Rodrick twisted around and lifted one of Greg's legs. "Did I say you could stop?"

It was at that precise moment that Greg finally understood why the drumstick interested him so much. His mouth opened in horror and he struggled under his brother's weight – trying to wriggle his leg free. "Stop! You're not gonna – not gonna put that in me! Are you? Rodrick please – "

"Shutup and jerk me off. I didn't say you could stop and if you do it again I'll change my mind and fuck you so hard you'll really be begging."

Greg's hands still didn't move. He was unable to force them into continuing such a shameful act until Rodrick slipped the long stick into him like it was no effort at all.

It felt so strange – different than the warmth of his brother's fingers. It was uncomfortable and cold, and Greg couldn't help but whine as a new pleasure hit him with the lengths the object reached. "You can do better than that, squeeze me tight Greg. Make me feel good too."

If Greg hadn't been on the verge of passing out – from shock mostly – he definitely would have listened. Rodrick tossed Greg's head side to side and appraised his brother's condition. The harder he slipped that drumstick between his, the more the boy seemed to melt in his hands.

It was so hot and strange, Greg was straining to release this built up pleasure. He had no sense of time passing; then he opened his eyes in shock at the friction of Rodrick's dick sliding along his. "Aaaah – hah."

"Good. I want to make you cry out more Greg. Do you understand? Are you finally getting it? I want to be a good brother… but… nngh – it's your fault."

How it was his fault, Greg didn't know. Was it because Rodrick knew that – at some level – he enjoyed this? After all, he was right on the verge of cumming against his brother's hard stomach. The pleasure was becoming overwhelming as the tip of the drumstick rubbed hard against a spot so deep within him it felt to Greg like he was simply going to die.

"You hear me Greg? It's your fault. Say it."

"Aaah – m-my fault – nngh."

"Say you're sorry for being such a whore." There was silence after this demand, and Rodrick bent forwards, biting Greg's tender flesh stretched over his skinny ribs.

"Nnn-no – Rod-rick… hic –" Greg hiccupped, gasping for air that he clearly was not getting enough of. His panting breaths did nothing to supply him of oxygen. His eyes grew hazy as he stared up at the blurry form of his brother – weight continuing to hold him in place.

"Say sorry. Just like I did this afternoon. I'll forgive you."

Greg whined as something deep within him unfolded – carrying an intense orgasm to the surface of his sensitized, weak body. "S– sorry – nnh… I'm so - sorry -"

Truth was, as his poor body bent with the waves of knee-shaking pleasure that rocked it, Greg was sorry. Sorry it had been his fault for driving Rodrick to do these things. And as Rodrick groaned against his brother's chewed flesh – losing it like an animal in the heat of his passion - Greg hoped Rodrick wasn't lying when he said he'd forgive him.

A/N: I've been wanting to write this for awhile, honestly. Thanks to everyone for kicking my butt, and to my awesome beta MyHeroRaven.

For updates and other stuff, visit my tumblr. If you want stuff to read in the meantime, go visit my Fiction Press account – links in my profile. ;D

Someone said I ask for reviews too much but I'ma be honest with ch'all - I'm only doing it for a purpose. That purpose is the motivation to write more! So review plz. mmkay.

- Calico