E8: Come to my room | My Ex’s Brother Drew

This fictional story features only adult characters (18+) and portrays consensual interactions throughout. Read Previous Part I didn’t brea

This fictional story features only adult characters (18+) and portrays consensual interactions throughout.

Read Previous Part

I didn’t breathe. Didn’t blink. Just stared at the screen like the message from Jason might un-send itself if I held still long enough.

" I know you’re here. Come to my room."

Drew was still passed out beside me, one arm flopped above his head, mouth parted slightly. His tight white underwear had ridden up his thigh in his sleep, the curve of his ass half-visible beneath the cotton. He looked peaceful in that messed-up way only a guy does when he knows he’s the one being wanted. I didn’t let myself look too long.

Just slid out from under the covers, grabbed my phone, and tiptoed out of his room, bare chest prickling with leftover sweat and nerves. The hallway was dim, carpet cool beneath my feet. Jason’s door was cracked open. Of course it was. Like it had been waiting for me to come to my senses.

I didn’t knock. Just pushed it open and stepped inside. The door creaked softly under my palm.

I don’t know what I expected. Maybe yelling. A storm. But Jason didn’t move. He was still, leaning against the dresser, half in shadow, arms loose at his sides. The sharp line of his jaw caught a sliver of hallway light. His expression was unreadable. Not angry. Not smug. Just still.

I closed the door behind me, heartbeat thudding in my ears. .The bulge in my underwear still obvious from sleeping so close beside Drew all night.. the guilt clinging to my skin like static. My whole body buzzed, like it already knew this was a mistake.

Jason’s eyes dropped to my hips. Then climbed back up, slow. Like he could smell where I’d just been. “I always knew you were eyeing my brother,” he said. His voice was low, flat.

My throat clenched. “What?”

He stepped forward once, casual, but precise. “Even when we were together. I’d catch you looking.”

I shook my head, barely. “That’s not fair.”

Jason didn’t blink. “Was I not enough for you?”

That one hit harder than I wanted it to. I felt it in my gut. “You’re the one who dumped me,” I snapped, trying to keep my voice level. “Don’t act like I cheated. You ghosted me and broke up with me.”

He let out a scoff, but it was more bitter than smug. His feet shifted on the carpet like he was resetting his stance.

“And then what?” he said, stepping closer. His sweatpants hung low on his hips, and his bare chest gleamed in the faint light. “You waited, what...two weeks? Before deepthroating my brother in the gym like it was some fantasy you’d been choking down since years?”

“Shut up.”

“You were gagging on his dick like it was the answer to a question you’d been too afraid to ask,” he said, voice sharp and even. “Was it? Did he taste how you imagined?”

I clenched my fists, jaw tight. “Jason....”

“Did you swallow?” he whispered, almost thoughtfully now. “ did he paint your throat?”

I felt the heat crawl up my neck. His words were knives, and I hated that they landed. Hated how much he still knew where to cut. He took another step, almost curious. “I saw how you looked at him. Even back then. We’d be on the couch, and your eyes would drift. You think I didn’t notice?”

“That’s not true.”

He didn’t stop. “You think I didn’t feel it?”

I backed up, until my shoulders hit the wall. His shadow moved with mine.
“I didn’t want this,” I said, voice unsteady. “I loved you.”

He tilted his head. “Loved?”

“I still.." My voice cracked. I couldn’t finish the sentence. I didn't want him to know I still loved him.

Jason’s eyes didn’t waver. His thumb was now on my lip, rough now, a little pressure behind it. “Did these lips do all the work today?” he said quietly. “Bet he liked that. All those years you spent practicing on my cock, and now you go show off your oral skills on my brother?” He laughed, but it wasn’t funny. “That’s not fair.”

“Jason...stop.”

Instead of stopping, he reached for my hand. Took it, firm and casual, and pressed it down against his crotch. His cock was already hard beneath the fabric. Thick. Heavy.

“Look,” he said. “You still get me like this. To this day. Just showing up with that fat, jiggly ass of yours. Those luscious lips. You know exactly what you do to me. You think that ever went away?"

“Jason...” My voice was smaller now. But I didn’t pull my hand away.

He stared at me. “You don’t want this?” His fingers dipped into the waistband of his sweats, tugging them low. “Walk away.” Then, slower, rougher: “But if you stay...”

He let them fall.

His cock dropped out, half-shadowed by the dim light, thick, heavy and veiny.. Uncut. Curved. Just like I remembered. My stomach turned over. He was already leaking. Still trim like he used to be, he’d always shaved for me, because I’d once made a joke about hating hair in my mouth and he never forgot.

He caught me staring.
“Last chance,” he said, tone almost flat. “I’ll put it back if you don’t want it.”

I hesitated.

I should’ve left. I should’ve walked out and shut that door and gone back to Drew’s room and tried to sleep beside the boy whose dick had been in my throat earlier that night. The boy I didn’t love. Not the way I had loved Jason. But the boy I was insanely attracted to.

But I didn’t move.

Fuck you, I thought. Fuck you for making me feel this way. For ghosting me and then pulling me back in like you never left. I hated him. And I wanted him. Still. So fucking bad.

I looked down at his cock again. I remembered everything. The way he liked it held. The way his body jerked if I used my tongue right under the head. The way he used to moan when he grabbed my hair and pushed me down slowly, whispering, “babyyy.”

I sank to my knees without a word.

Jason didn’t smile. He just exhaled; quiet and sharp and stepped forward into the space I left open. His hand cupped the back of my head as I leaned in.

My mouth parted. I licked the underside of his shaft once, slow, just to feel the weight of it again. The taste of him. The salt. The heat. It was the same and it wasn’t. Older. Dirtier. Better.

He twitched in my mouth when I finally took him in, lips sliding over the crown, tongue curled underneath. His fingers curled hard in my hair, not guiding, just anchoring. I looked up at him, and the expression on his face, somewhere between regret and ownership, almost broke me.

My jaw ached, but I didn’t stop.

I didn’t want to.

The only sound was his breath, quick and shaky, and the soft wet slide of my mouth as I worked him deeper. My palms pressed to his hips for balance. My own dick strained in my briefs. I was leaking too, I could feel it now, sticky against the cotton.

Jason’s voice finally came, low and hoarse. “God, you’re still so fucking good at this.”

I moaned around him. Let the vibrations do the rest.

He didn’t say anything else. Just stood there. Let me do it. Let me have him again, at least like this.

And in that dark, quiet room, I let everything else disappear. Drew. Regret. Even love. All of it dissolved in the way Jason’s cock pulsed on my tongue.
We didn’t finish. Not yet. The moment hung, heavy and open, like something unfinished. Something we’d come back to.


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