Blake Hart
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Step Bros - Part 9
🕑 Added 2025-03-12 14:30:02 +0000 UTCEveryone in this story is 18+
The first thing I heard when I woke up was the scratch of a marker against a whiteboard. Blinking groggily, I turned over to see Jax standing in front of the small whiteboard he’d picked up during orientation week, scribbling with intense concentration. His brows were furrowed, tongue slightly sticking out as he wrote like he was solving the meaning of life.
I groaned, rubbing my face. "Dude, it's too early for whatever this is."
Jax turned to me with a shit-eating grin. "Early? It's practically noon, Nickyboy. And besides, this is important."
I frowned, glancing at my clock. 07:00 AM. Noon?
"What the hell are you doing anyway?" I muttered, still trying to blink the sleep out of my eyes.
With a flourish, he stepped back and gestured at his creation with a dramatic wave. "Behold."
I squinted at the board.
THE SLUT-OFF was scrawled across the top in bold, barely legible handwriting. Underneath, two names:
Nick: 3
Jax: 1
I let out a dry laugh. "The Slut-Off? Oh my god, you're actually serious about this."
"Damn right," Jax smirked, tapping the marker against the board like a coach about to give a pep talk. "Alright, so before we go any further—ground rules."
I flopped back onto my pillow with a groan. "Jax, I swear—"
"Shut up and listen," he cut in. "Handstuff, oral, and anal count for us both. And for me, obviously, regular vaginal counts too." He paused, smirking. "Unless you wanna come out as bi too, considering how much of a nympho you are."
I shot him a glare. "I’m good and I’m not a nympho. Just… enthusiastic, I guess."
Jax snorted. "Yeah, very enthusiastic. Anyway, back to business—one person equals one point. No bonus points for repeats, even if you do more stuff with them."
"So all those times you fuck the same chick don’t count?" I asked, smirking.
"Correct. One and done. Which means, unfortunately, I can't hit up that girl from last night again," he said, rubbing his chin. "Been there, done that."
"Wow. Such restraint."
He winked. "Hey, I’m still gonna catch up somehow, man."
I shook my head as he proudly capped the marker. Jesus Christ.
--- --- ---
We left for class soon after, both of us moving through campus at our own pace. Jax and I shared a couple of general education classes, but mostly, we did our own thing.
Jax, however, took The Slut-Off way too seriously.
Throughout the day, I watched as he put on a masterclass in trying too damn hard. He leaned against desks like he was posing for a photoshoot, flashed that cocky grin, flexed his arms just right—and, sure, at first, the girls ate it up. But it didn’t take long before they caught on. He wasn’t just flirting. He was desperate.
And nothing kills a vibe faster than desperation.
Most of them entertained it for a moment before hitting him with something along the lines of:
"You're hot, but you're a freshie. Get in line. Lol."
"Talk to me when you’re at least a sophomore, babe."
And my personal favorite: "Come back when you’ve grown some hair on your balls."
I snickered as Jax ran a hand through his bleached-blond hair, his confidence visibly shaken. For the first time ever, his natural charm wasn’t enough.
Admittedly the girl who had flashed herself at the party was more than happy to schedule a second round, but Jax just waved her off.
Grinning to me, "Nah, been there, done that."
Meanwhile, I played it cool. I didn’t stress about the scoreboard. I didn’t force it. I knew opportunities would come when they came.
Jax? Not so much.
By the time the day wound down, his frustration was obvious. The problem? Normally, he was effortlessly cool with girls—confident, easygoing, no pressure. But now that he was actively trying, they saw right through it. And it was fucking hilarious.
And honestly? I was loving this.
--- --- ---
As the day wound down, Jax and I were sprawled out in our beds, each doing our own thing. I was half-scrolling through my phone when a familiar ding broke the silence.
I smirked. Grindr alert.
Before I could even respond, Jax glanced over. "Dude, tell me you’re not seriously about to get laid again."
I shrugged, typing back a quick response. "Listen, big guy. I got company coming over, so could you, I don’t know, go take a shower or grab some food while we get busy?"
Jax sat up, staring at me like I’d grown a second head. "Are you serious? What the fuck is the deal with that app?"
I laughed. "I don’t know, man. I guess guys are just easier. But it’s not like you don’t have Tinder. And let’s be real, you’re not exactly lacking in attention over there."
"Yeah, but it usually takes a few dates first," Jax grumbled, running a hand through his hair. "This is instant. What, you just send a few messages, and boom, they’re at your door?"
I smirked. "Pretty much."
Jax shook his head, clearly baffled. "That’s insane."
"Or efficient."
"Or insane."
We went back and forth for a bit, Jax asking more questions than I expected—how it worked, what kind of guys messaged me, whether I ever got catfished. He acted like he was just curious, but there was something about the way he kept glancing at my phone, like he couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.
Then, before either of us could say anything else, there was a knock at the door.
I hopped up, shooting Jax a look before opening it. Standing there was a cute twink, barely 5’7", dressed in a fitted crop top and tight jeans. His hair was styled to perfection, and when he spoke, his lisp was noticeable but charming.
"Hi!" he chirped, flashing a nervous smile.
I grinned. "Hey, come on in. Don’t mind my stepbrother—he was just leaving, weren’t you?"
Jax scoffed but stood up, grabbing his hoodie. "Yeah, yeah, I’m going." As he passed by, he shot the twink a once-over before turning back to me with a smirk. "Welcome to our humble shag pad—enjoy the attractions. Or Nick, as some call him."
The twink giggled, and I rolled my eyes, shoving Jax toward the door. "Bye."
But as Jax stepped out, I caught something strange. He glanced back—not at me, but at the twink’s ass—and then back at me with an expression I couldn’t quite place.
Almost like he didn’t want to leave.
But that would be crazy, right?
