Season 3 Episode 8 | My Best Friend’s Brother Dylan (Patreon)

All characters depicted in this story are fictional and 18 years of age or older. Everything portrayed is safe, sane, and consensual.

Episode 8: A Night with Potential

A week laterI woke slowly in Dylan’s bed, the sheets still warm from his body. Sunlight poured through the big windows, painting golden stripes across the dark bedding. His arm was draped heavily over my waist, holding me close even in sleep. I could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against my back, the faint scent of his skin and the lingering trace of last night’s sex still hanging in the air.

Dylan stirred behind me, pulling me tighter against him. His morning hardness pressed insistently against my ass, hot and thick. A low hum vibrated in his throat as he kissed the back of my neck, lips soft and warm.

“Morning,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep.

I smiled, arching slightly into him. “Morning.”

His hand slid down my stomach, fingers brushing over my cock, which was already half hard just from waking up next to him. He stroked me lazily, not rushing, just enjoying the feel of me.

“You can go on that date with Lucien tonight,” he said quietly, lips still against my neck. “But you come home to me. I don’t care if it’s four in the morning after he fucks you all night. I want you coming back and sleeping next to me.”

I let out a soft sarcastic laugh. “That’s a way of showing how romantic and jealous you are.”

Dylan flipped me onto my back in one smooth motion and kissed me hard, tongue sliding deep, claiming my mouth like he needed to remind both of us who I belonged to. His hand never left my cock, stroking me slow and firm while he kissed me breathless.

“Not jealous,” he whispered against my lips, voice low and intense. “Just letting Mr. Castle know that Troy is mine.”

I moaned into his mouth, hips rolling up into his fist. We made out heavy and slow, bodies pressed together, hands roaming. There was no rush to fuck this morning, just deep, affectionate kisses and the warm press of skin on skin. Dylan’s jealousy was there, simmering under the surface, but so was his effort to be better. He was trying. And that made my chest feel strangely full.Later that night, back in my own apartment, I stood in front of the mirror adjusting the collar of my shirt. I had chosen something simple but nice, a fitted black button down and dark jeans. My stomach was a mess of nerves and excitement. Dylan’s words from this morning kept echoing in my head. He had given me permission, but the jealousy in his eyes had been real. I was really doing this. Going on a date with Lucien while Dylan waited for me to come home.

A black luxury car pulled up outside exactly on time. The driver opened the door for me and I slid into the back seat. Lucien was already inside, looking devastating in a tailored navy shirt and dark trousers. The moment I sat down he smiled, that quiet, assessing smile that always made my pulse jump.

“You look incredible,” he said, voice smooth and warm.

“Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself.”

The car moved smoothly through the Paris streets. Lucien chatted easily, asking about my day at the patisserie, about the latest LifeInParis video I had posted. His questions were thoughtful, never shallow. I found myself relaxing into the conversation, laughing at his dry British humor.

We didn’t head toward any restaurant. Instead the car pulled up to a private helipad near the river. My eyes widened when I saw the sleek black helicopter waiting, rotors already spinning slowly.

“So you take all your first dates in a helicopter?” I asked, half shocked, half laughing.

Lucien smiled, that subtle dominant glint in his blue eyes. “Only the ones that look as cute as you.”

He helped me out of the car and guided me toward the helicopter, hand resting lightly on my lower back. The pilot greeted us politely as we climbed in. Lucien fastened my headset for me, fingers brushing my jaw in a way that sent heat down my spine. The rotors sped up and we lifted smoothly into the night sky.

Paris unfolded beneath us like a living painting. The Eiffel Tower glowed golden, the Seine glittered like a dark ribbon studded with diamonds, rooftops and lights stretched endlessly in every direction. The view was breathtaking. I pulled out my phone and took several quick pictures and short videos for LifeInParis, capturing the impossible beauty from above.

Lucien pointed out landmarks as we flew, voice calm and intimate through the headset. “That’s Notre Dame… and over there is the Louvre. At night it looks almost peaceful, doesn’t it?” He told me quiet stories about his life, how he moved to Paris years ago for work and fell in love with the city’s layers. He asked real questions about my dreams, about why I started filming LifeInParis, about what I wanted for the future.

I answered honestly, surprised at how easy it felt to talk to him up here, suspended above the city with no one else around. The tension between us was undeniable, a slow burning chemistry that felt different from the raw fire I had with Dylan. Lucien was controlled, attentive, subtly dominant in the way he guided the conversation and the evening itself.

A few minutes later, the helicopter began its descent, landing smoothly back at the helipad. When the rotors slowed and we stepped out, the night air felt cooler. Lucien offered me his arm as we walked toward the waiting car.

I took it, pulse racing, wondering what came next.

Lucien walked me back to the waiting black luxury car, his hand resting lightly on my lower back the entire way. The night air felt cooler after the warmth of the helicopter, but the heat from his touch stayed with me. He opened the door for me like a gentleman, waiting until I was settled before sliding in beside me.

The driver pulled away smoothly. Lucien turned to me, blue eyes catching the passing streetlights.

“Time for dinner?” he asked, voice calm and warm.

I blinked, surprised. “There is more to this date?”

He leaned in and kissed my cheek, soft and lingering, his stubble brushing my skin. Then he pulled back with a small smile and opened the car door again for me once we arrived at our destination.

“I told you,” he said quietly, “I like doing proper dates.”

The car had brought us only a short distance away, to a sleek modern building with a private entrance. Lucien led me inside and up to the top floor. When the elevator doors opened, I stepped into his penthouse and felt my breath catch.

The apartment was pure quiet luxury. Double-height ceilings made the space feel endless. Floor-to-ceiling windows wrapped around the living area, offering a breathtaking view of Paris glittering below. Minimalist design, clean lines, carefully chosen art on the walls. Soft lighting glowed from hidden fixtures, making everything feel warm and intimate.

Lucien gave me a slow tour, pouring two glasses of expensive red wine as we walked. He showed me the open living room, the sleek kitchen, the terrace that overlooked the city. His voice stayed low and easy as he pointed out details, never showing off, simply sharing his space with me.

We sat down to dinner at a long marble table near the windows. The meal was private and perfect, delivered earlier and kept warm. Lucien had chosen everything thoughtfully. As we ate he opened up a little more about why he had been drawn to my LifeInParis videos.

“I started watching because the way you capture ordinary moments felt honest,” he said, swirling his wine. “Most people perform for the camera. You do not. You let people see the quiet beauty in everyday life. That is rare.”

I felt seen in a way that was completely different from how Dylan saw me. Dylan knew my body, my desires, the way I moaned when he took me apart. Lucien seemed to see something deeper, something about who I wanted to become. The flirtation between us turned more charged with every glance, every quiet laugh, every time his knee brushed mine under the table.

Toward the end of dinner Lucien set his fork down and looked at me directly.

“I have been thinking about something for a while,” he said. “What if we promoted some of the brands I work with through LifeInParis? Not in a loud, advertisement way, but naturally. The same honest style you already use. I believe it could be good for both of us.”

I was genuinely interested and a little shocked. I had always thought of myself as someone who just shared pieces of his life on the internet. Now this man was offering something bigger, something that could actually grow into a career.

“Yes,” I said, smiling. “We should talk about that.”

Dinner ended naturally. We moved to the wide couch in the open living room, the double-height ceiling making the space feel even more expansive. The city lights sparkled endlessly beyond the windows. Lucien set his wine glass down on the low table, the soft clink echoing in the quiet penthouse. His attention was entirely on me now. He shifted closer on the wide couch, one arm resting along the back behind my shoulders, his knee brushing mine.

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to get you alone like this tonight,” he said, voice low and smooth. His piercing blue eyes dropped to my mouth for a moment before returning to my gaze. “The way you smile when you talk about your dreams… it’s quite distracting.”

My breath caught. The air between us had grown thicker with every story we shared, every lingering look. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, the subtle dominance in the way he held my stare.

Lucien lifted a hand, fingers brushing lightly along my jaw before his thumb traced my bottom lip. “I have been wondering what these lips would feel like since the moment I saw you behind that counter at the patisserie.”

The touch sent a shiver down my spine. I did not pull away. Instead I leaned into it slightly, heart hammering.

He smiled, slow and knowing. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

I shook my head, voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want you to stop.”

Lucien’s eyes darkened with satisfaction. He leaned in and kissed me once, deep and unhurried, tasting like wine and restrained hunger. When he pulled back, his hand slid to the back of my neck, guiding me gently but firmly.

“Then come here,” he murmured, voice rich with command.I moved closer without hesitation, heart racing. I had not planned for this not-a-date to turn so romantic, to lead us here so quickly. Yes, I felt a pang of guilt for kissing another man, but this time it was different. This time Dylan knew. This was the arrangement we had made — until he figured out what we were, I was allowed to explore. And honestly, he was free to do the same if he ever wanted to. I slid toward Lucien, looking at his beautiful face as my cock throbbed hard in my jeans.⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ Season 3 Episode 9 | My Best Friend’s Brother Dylan