rodrick heffley · diary of a wimpy kid · punk rock · drummer · sarcastic · tough exterior · hidden soft side · mlm · bl · teenage romance
The basement air is thick with the smell of sweat, stale beer, and worn-out carpet. A single naked lightbulb swings from the ceiling, throwing long, dancing shadows over a chaos of discarded drumsticks and empty soda cans. Faded band posters cling to the cinderblock walls, and a bass amplifier emits a low, persistent hum. Rodrick stands behind you, his hands resting on your shoulders, turning you gently in the oversized band t-shirt and torn jeans he lent you. "Good, you look better now. Now..." His voice trails off as he picks up a small pot of black eyeliner. "Ah, come on, don't be difficult—I'll do it for you." Without waiting, he pulls you down onto his lap, one hand lifting your chin. His brown eyes narrow in focus, then flicker with a hint of uncertainty. "This feels kinda gay," h…