I do not own anything from Diary of a Wimpy Kid.

This story is one that holds gay incest between two brothers. If you do not like that, I don't know how you got here, but you should probably head back out.

Reviews will help me determine if I continue on with this story or not.

Another spoon-full of mashed potatoes was flung in Greg's direction from Manny from across the table. Next to Greg, Rodrick was chuckling under his breath, sounding like a complete moron. Greg's mother stopped her babbling for a moment to chastise Manny and went right back to talking his dad's ear off. It was like both of Greg's brother's had it out for him and no one knew about it or even cared. As Roderick masticated his food ferally, Greg wondered how things between himself and his brother got so bad. He remembered that he used to pratcially worship Roderick. What had gone so wrong?

"What you looking at, Shrimp?" Rodrick hissed, food particals flying from his mouth.

Even though none of the food had touched him, Greg still felt remotely like he needed a shower. He cowered down, giving his plate his full attention and muttered, "nothing."

And why was he so afraid of Rodrick? It wasn't like he ever lifted a hand in abuse toward him. At least, not really. These things Greg pondered as he scooped up some cottage cheese and brought it up to his mouth. There was a slap at his hand that landed it right in his face. Grabbing the napkin from his lap, Greg scooted out from the table and threw the napkin in his plate. "Dinner in this house is just impossible!" A scoop of mashed potatoes joined the cottage cheese on his face. With a huff, Greg stomped off to his room. Even with his door being slammed shut, he could hear the heated talk between his parents and Rodrick.

Greg pulled a stuffed Buneary Rowley had won him at some fair off of his shelf and held it tightly to his chest. He needed some answers about all the things in his head. If only he could remember back to when he was little. What did Rodrick and he have in common enough to be so close to each other. All he could remember was his mother commenting on how they were the best of friends. There was a skip and his mother was always yelling at them to get along. His eyes shut and he tried to invision it. After so long, everything went blank as Greg fell into a slumber.

Seven-year-old Greg sat on the edge of his bed, playing with his army men. Instead of making them battle one another, they had a lot of drama between them. Each one had a different name. Greg remembered the name with the individual pose the figure had. It was almost bedtime, so Greg was in his Spider Man PJs. The door creeked open. Greg was ready to protest until he saw that it was his eleven-year-old brother, Rodrick. He was only wearing a pair of silk boxers that he was only allowed to wear at night.

"Mom and Dad went on a walk. They told me to make sure you were in bed soon."

Greg had to start his protest.

Rodrick came closer to Greg. "Clean up, and I'll read you a story."

With a weak smile, Greg agreed to Rodrick's terms. Why shouldn't he? He loved his brother.

As Greg bent over to pick up his army men and put them in their rightful container, he felt a hand brush up against his butt. He dismissed it. Surely it had been an accedent.

When all of his toys were put away, Rodrick read the book. Greg protested sleep when he was finished reading.

"Okay." Rodrick let out an extended hyperbolic sigh. "Get out of bed."

Greg quickly jumped from under his blankets and stood by his brother who sat in front of him in a chair that was constantly next to his bed, where one day he would have a desk placed as well.

Rodrick's hands were placed on both of Greg's cheeks respectively. His eyes bore into Greg's eyes. There was something devilish in them and that took his grin. "Want to play a secret game with me?"

Greg nodded, ignoring the pulse in his gut that was screaming to run as far from Rodrick as he could and just go to sleep.

"Kiss me," Rodrick said so quietly that it almost sounded like he didn't say anything at all.

Greg, being such an admirer of his older brother, did as he asked. On the way to his target, Rodrick's hands tilted Greg's head slightly to the side. His lips touched Rodrick's warm and wet lips. The only difference in kissing Roderick than his parents was an electic excitement that filled the air around him. As he pulled away, his heart bounced like a bunny was hopping on it.

"Okay. Do it again. Just open your mouth a little when your lips touch mine."

One of Rodrick's hands moved to his shoulder and the other to the curls on the back of Greg's head. Their lips met again. Greg instantly pulled his lips apart. Not much, but aparently enough for Rodrick's tongue to slide into his mouth and flick against Greg's tongue. Greg put his hands on Rodrick's pecs, ready to push him away in protest. But something was regestering as a good feeling inside of Greg. So, he continued to let Roderick's tongue probe and explore his mouth.

Rodrick broke the kiss, pulling his head back. His hands moved down to Greg's lower back. The pressure applied forced Greg to sit down on Rodrick's lap. "One more time. Only, when my tongue comes into your mouth, try to get yours to come into my mouth as well."

Greg gave a small nod of understanding. His arms circled around his older brother's neck. One of Rodrick's hands had moved to Greg's theigh and was rubbing it.

Tired of waiting, Greg tilted his head and pressed his lips hard against Rodrick's lips. Parting them yet again, Rodrick's tongue entered and pressed against Greg's tongue. He tried to fight back, but it felt like everywhere his tongue tried to move, Roderick's tongue was there. It wasn't working and he was becoming frustrated when the front door opened.

Rodrick hurried and picked Greg up and tucked him into bed. "That's enough for tonight. Secret?"

The two pinky promised to keep their kissing a secret. Why should Greg tell anyone about his secret delight anyway? It was for him to keep.

Rodrick turned off the light as he left the room, keeping the door just cracked. Greg could hear his feet tapping lightly against the floor over to his room.

Greg bolted straight up from his dream. Sweat dripped all over his forehead. Was that dream something that actually happened or was he just becoming preverse? When Greg realized that his crotch felt very sticky, he decided to go with perverse.