E24: Protein Pancakes | My Ex’s Brother Drew

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

I knew, if Drew ever decided to flip, even for a second...I wouldn’t be able to handle it.

And right on cue, the guy shifted against me. My arm was still wrapped tight around his waist, my fingers lazily tracing the slope of his abs in half-sleep. He stirred, groaned like a bear waking from hibernation, and rolled onto his back. My hand slid down to rest across his stomach, like I was staking a claim even while barely awake.

“Clingy much?” Drew’s voice was gravel, thick from sleep.

I cracked an eye open. “Says the guy holding me in his death grip all night.”

He smirked, eyes still closed. “I don’t hold. I dominate.”

“Please. You snore like a chainsaw. I should’ve recorded it.”

His mouth curved into a lazy grin. “And what about all your drooling on my chest all night? Hm? Wanna talk about that?”

My face heated. “Okay, fair. But in my defense...your shoulder is like a pillow. A very sweaty pillow.”

“Sexy,” Drew muttered, but I caught the twitch of amusement at his mouth. He rolled toward me, his hair messy, his chest warm and broad pressing against mine. He kissed the side of my head before muttering, “Shut up. It’s too early.”

I let myself sink into him, breathing in that mix of his sweat and our cum still faint in the air from last night. The room had that musk of two guys who’d gone at it until they couldn’t anymore. The sheets were sticky, clinging to our legs. My body was heavy, exhausted, but there was this stupid little hum inside me that wanted to keep clinging to him, keep proving he was mine.


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Eventually, Drew got up, pulling on some shorts, and we wandered out into the kitchen. That’s when the smell hit me...sweet, buttery, the kind of smell that made my stomach growl.

And the sight that hit me next almost had me spitting.

Evan.

He was at the stove, flipping pancakes with this easy, practiced motion, still in those same tight black yoga pants. Only now, with him standing, bent slightly over the pan, the spandex stretched across his ass in a way that felt borderline illeg@l. Every time he shifted his weight, his ass bounced just enough to be noticeable. Every flip of the pancake came with this unconscious little sway of his hips, his glutes flexing and releasing under that second-skin fabric.

I froze in the doorway.

Drew brushed past me, muttering something about coffee, and I swear...swear...I saw his eyes flick down. Just a second. Barely there. But enough.

Something hot twisted in my chest.

I moved to the counter, filling a glass with water, pretending like I wasn’t watching. Evan looked up, bright smile, spatula in hand.

“Morning, guys. Protein pancakes. You’re welcome.”

Drew grunted, still half-asleep, but I caught the curve of a smile on his lips.

I sipped my water, trying not to choke on it. Because the way Evan stood, weight on one leg, hip cocked slightly as he flipped another pancake, it was seductive. The yoga pants caught every curve of his ass like they’d been made for him, the faint sheen catching the morning light so his whole lower body looked sculpted, on display.

When he leaned forward to grab a plate, the fabric stretched even tighter, the waistband dipping low, showing just the faintest line of skin. His ass rounded up like it was competing with physics.

Drew’s eyes lingered again. Quick. Subtle. But I noticed. Of course I noticed.

I swallowed my water hard, setting the glass down louder than I meant to. Drew glanced at me, one brow raised, but didn’t say anything. Evan just hummed to himself, flipping another pancake with a bounce in his step. And that bounce. That goddamn bounce of his ass while he worked the pan.

I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to look away. But the picture was burned into my head.

Breakfast was casual on the surface...small talk about the gym, some random TV show Evan had binged, Drew cracking a dumb joke about how Evan was gonna turn into a pancake himself if he kept cooking this much. But underneath, I was simmering. Watching Drew sneak glances he probably didn’t even realize he was making. Watching Evan move like he knew he was being watched.

By the time I set my plate down, my appetite was shot. I shoveled down a bite or two, then leaned back in my chair, my leg bouncing. Drew noticed.

“You good?” he asked low, just for me.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Fine.”

His eyes narrowed like he didn’t believe me, but he didn’t push. Not here. Not with Evan humming and swaying at the counter like some damn fitness influencer.

Eventually, Drew stretched, stood, and clapped my shoulder. “I’m gonna shower.” He smirked at me, the kind of smirk that meant follow me.

I waited a beat, then slipped out after him, leaving Evan to his pancakes.

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Back in Drew’s room, the air felt heavier. He shut the door with a soft click, then turned, eyebrow raised.

“You’re acting weird.”

I crossed my arms. “Am not.”

“Yeah, you are.” He stepped closer, his chest brushing mine. “You’ve had a stick up your ass since breakfast.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Because what was I supposed to say? Hey, your roommate’s ass looks like it belongs on a billboard and I saw you look at it twice?

Drew tilted his head, reading me. Then that smirk spread again, slow and dangerous.

“Jealous,” he murmured, low enough to make my pulse spike.

I scoffed, too quick. “Shut up.”

But his hand slid down, cupping the back of my neck, pulling me closer until his lips brushed mine. “You are.”

I hated that he was right. And I hated even more how fucking hot it made me.

Before I could argue, his mouth crashed against mine. Hard, demanding, tasting faintly like syrup from the pancakes. His tongue pushed past my lips, his body pressing me back toward the bed until my knees hit the edge and I fell.

He followed, climbing over me, his weight pinning me down. His hand slid under my waistband, gripping me, stroking me slow and steady.

“You’re jealous” he muttered against my mouth. “I like that”

My hips jerked up into his hand. “Fuck, Drew…”

His pace was teasing, infuriating, just enough to keep me on edge. Then he shifted, sliding down, his lips replacing his hand. The wet heat of his mouth around my cock made me bite back a groan, my hands fisting in the sheets.

“Quiet,” he warned, glancing up, eyes sharp. “Unless you want Evan to hear.”

The risk sent a shiver through me. I bit my lip, muffling the sounds as his mouth worked my cock, his hand stroking what he couldn’t take, his tongue teasing the head until my whole body tensed.

He pulled off just long enough to smirk. “Can’t even look at another ass without you losing it. So clingy.”

I glared down at him, but the glare melted into a choked groan as he swallowed me again.

It was quick and messy. My hips thrusting, his mouth relentless, the pressure building too fast.

And then—

A knock.

Two sharp raps on the door.

“Hey, uh… Drew? You guys seen my shaker bottle?” Evan’s voice floated in, muffled but close.

My whole body froze, cock still buried in Drew’s mouth, his eyes meeting mine with a devil’s spark. He didn’t pull away. If anything, he went deeper, his throat tightening around me just as my pulse went wild.

I slapped a hand over my mouth, biting down hard to stop the sound that wanted to rip free.

Outside, Evan’s voice again. “Hello?”

Drew sucked harder.

I was seconds away from giving us both away.


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Horndogs, I’ll leave this one up to you… should Evan join the fun, or should things stay as they are? You get to decide what happens next.

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