My Best Friend’s Brother Dylan Was Supposed to Be Straight
Copyright© 2025 by StoriesByTroy
Chapter 15: Who Do I Choose? (Season 2 Finale)
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 15: Who Do I Choose? (Season 2 Finale) - When I agreed to a chill weekend at my best friend's place, I didn’t expect his older brother Dylan to be back—or to look like that. I should’ve looked away. I didn’t.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Ma Ma Teenagers Consensual Romantic Gay BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Humor Western Cheating Sharing Brother DomSub MaleDom Light Bond Rough Spanking White Male White Couple Anal Sex First Masturbation Oral Sex Safe Sex Size Nudism Slow
There I was, in the middle of a photo studio, with Elliot standing beside me, his shoulder brushing mine; scrolling through shirtless pictures of Dylan, the man whose cock had been inside me less than twenty-four hours ago. And Elliot, the man standing next to me now, the one who had kissed me slow and fucked me like he cared, still had no idea.
“He’s beautiful, right?” Elliot said, nudging my arm with a grin.
I blinked. “Huh?”
“Dylan. Great model. Great energy. Total natural.”
“Yeah. Sure. He’s, uh ... photogenic.”
Elliot turned to me then, really looked at me. “Everything okay?”
My mouth opened. Nothing came out.
He tilted his head. “You’ve been weird all day.”
“I’m not...” I stopped.
Because Dylan had just walked over, toweling himself off. He looked at the screen over my shoulder. “Damn, I look good. Make sure to send me the unfiltered ones. And tag my protein partner, obviously.”
He glanced at Elliot. “You’re killing it, man.”
Elliot smiled. “You’re easy to shoot.”
Their handshake felt slow-motion. Their banter, casual. But I could feel it; the electricity between them. And me? I was standing in the middle of a charged wire.
Elliot looked between the two of us, then back at me. “So ... how long have you and Dylan known each other?”
I hesitated.
Elliot looked between the two of us, then back at me. “So ... how long have you and Dylan known each other?”
I hesitated.
Then glanced at Dylan.
He was already across the room, towel slung around his neck, wiping down his abs as one of the producers showed him something on a clipboard. He nodded, said something with that half-smirk still lingering on his face. Like nothing was wrong.
Elliot’s voice was quieter now. Closer.
“Troy.”
I turned.
“Can we talk for a sec?”
He didn’t wait for a full answer. Just gestured toward the back hallway, near the emergency exit door. No one else was around. The sounds of studio chatter and camera gear faded as we stepped into the quiet space. The door swung shut behind us with a soft click.
Elliot didn’t look mad. Just-steady. Composed. The way someone looks when they’ve already run the conversation in their head.
“I didn’t want to ask you in the middle of the shoot,” he said. “I’m a professional.”
He paused, took a breath. “But the way you took off his shirt? The way he looked at you; like he’d already had you. Like he was waiting for more. And you...”
I stayed silent.
“You looked like someone who already knew every inch of him,” Elliot said. “Not a stranger. Not just a friend.”
My chest tightened.
He kept his voice soft. “Are you sleeping with him?”
I didn’t answer.
Not because I wanted to lie. Just because the truth sat like a stone in my mouth.
Elliot’s jaw shifted. Just once. “That’s what I thought.”
I looked down.
“We aren’t exclusive,” he added quickly. “I get that. And I walked into this knowing it might not last. But I still let myself fall.”
His voice caught; not dramatic, just real.
“And now I can’t unfeel it, Troy. I can’t stand here, watching you with someone else, and pretend it doesn’t affect me. Especially not when that someone looks like...” He stopped. Smiled thinly. “ ... well, him.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know you didn’t. But that’s not enough anymore.”, said Elliot.
A long, quiet pause passed between us. Somewhere behind the wall, I could still hear Dylan’s laugh; low and easy.
“I just...” Elliot finally said. “I don’t want to be someone’s second choice.”
I looked up.
He met my eyes, held them. “So if you figure it out; if you know what you want - text me.”