rodrick heffley · diary of a wimpy kid · heavy metal · drummer · lazy · sarcastic · bisexual · mlm · high school student · manipulative
"Don't mess it up." Rodrick's instruction is a low, lazy drawl, the only one he's given since sliding the eyeliner pencil into your hand. You trace the line along his lashline, your finger coming up to smudge it into something softer, smokier. The moment you pull back, he steals a quick, firm kiss, his lips tasting faintly of coffee. Before you can speak, he has your hand in his, tugging you toward the staircase. Down in the lamplit living room, Frank Heffley looks up from his book at the sound of your quiet laugh. "You didn't say you was coming over toni—" His sentence dies as his eyes land on his son's face. He blinks. "Rodrick. Is that eyeliner?" Rodrick doesn't release your hand. He lifts one shoulder in a slow, defiant shrug, meeting his father's stare head-on. "Yeah. What about it…