The Double Melons Are Real!
The day after my little war of words — not that it deserved the name — with my sister-in-law.
I strolled out of my room mid-yawn and spotted her hovering around the liquor display cabinet tucked into the corner of the living room. The moment our eyes met, she skipped the morning greeting entirely and fired off questions about the bottles inside — where on earth I'd gotten them, how she'd done a little digging yesterday and found out they were worth quite a bit, and so on.
She must have assumed I just stocked the cabinet with cheap stuff to look fancy.
Given that she'd never said a word until now and only brought it up out of nowhere, yesterday's little scene was clearly the spark. Her pride stung, she must have scrambled to look up the collection — let's see just how impressive this supposedly is — and only then, too late, realized what the bottles actually cost. Whereupon she hurried back to me, flustered, and blurted out what, exactly?
Something about how, to commemorate us living together, could she have just a few of them?
She had no money now, apparently, so she couldn't post the kind of content she used to put up on her socials. That's why she wanted them — content and gift in one, or so she claimed.
Picking out only the rarest, hardest-to-find ones, no less.
Obviously, I said no. After pretending I didn't exist all this time, the sudden about-face into shameless opportunism was genuinely disgusting to watch. If she'd had even the tiniest shred of decency or common sense, maybe I'd have handed a couple over. Naturally, she didn't — and so, exactly as predicted, she stormed off to her room grumbling about how I couldn't spare a single bottle out of a whole cabinet full.
With that kind of temper, she might well have smashed it open and helped herself — except the display cabinet and the Gunpla shelf were both fitted with locks, so she couldn't touch anything inside. Which is why she'd been stuck hopping around waiting for me to come out in the first place.
And after that, all hell broke loose in every way imaginable.
That wasn't the end of it, either. Living alone had been one thing, but with two extra people in the apartment, I started encountering incidents I'd never once experienced in my life.
"…Now what is this."
On my way to the living room, I stepped on something soft, looked down, and found a set of black lingerie lying abandoned on the floor. The kind of item neither I nor Kim Taeho could ever wear — a bra, the undergarment that lifts and shapes a woman's breasts.
"What is with this size?"
It was big enough that an adult man could barely cover it with one hand. I couldn't help letting out a low whistle at the sheer majesty of the double watermelons.
"I can't even imagine how big the real thing is."
I was inwardly wondering just how impressive the actual body attached to this bra might be when a sudden, sharp impact landed on my back.
Smack!
"Ow—!"
"You pervert! What the hell are you pawing at!?"
I turned to find my sister-in-law standing there, face crimson. She snatched the bra right out of my hand.
Unbelievable.
All I did was pick it up on my way past. Anyone watching would think I'd been sniffing it and jerking off, would they?
"Hey, that's going a bit far. I didn't take it out of your room — I just picked it up off the hallway floor."
"Ha. How am I supposed to believe that? You were probably grabbing it with all sorts of filthy thoughts in your head."
"What, no—"
"Ugh, forget it."
She rattled off whatever she wanted without rhyme or reason, then flounced off. My sister-in-law, dutifully stacking another point onto her rudeness tally for the day.
"…I was just going to bring it to you."
I murmured the words to her retreating back — words I didn't mean even one percent. Shouldn't have picked it up. Just admired it in passing and moved on. I made a quiet note of my regret.
"Oh, and one more thing!"
The sister-in-law who had been storming away popped her head back around the corner and glared at me, clearly with more to say.
"From now on, we're doing laundry separately. The very thought of it makes my skin crawl — I can't stand it!"
"What—"
What the hell. Isn't that going too far?
I'm not some kind of bug, you know.
A few days later.
I came back from my workout drenched in sweat and headed straight for the bathroom.
"Huh…"
"…"
The moment I pushed open the changing room door, I walked right into my sister-in-law, who had apparently just finished her bath.
Both of us froze, blinking at each other like statues. There was no point arguing about who was at fault — we'd both intruded on each other, so by rights one of us should have apologized.
Not a chance.
I poured every ounce of my attention into her body. All I did was stand there, staring openly and shamelessly at her bare figure — not a stitch of clothing on it.
Mmm.
Seeing only the bra that day had already earned a whistle of admiration. Now, beholding the actual breasts in all their generous glory, my breath actually caught.
Even the hair around her crotch and under her arms was neatly groomed, which meant the fissure of her pussy, presented to me in full, was quite the sight to savor. And with her body carrying just a hint of lush softness, a desire to wrap her up in a tight, squeezing hug came bubbling up from somewhere deep in my gut.
She only had to say the word — my heart had been ready and waiting to embrace her at a moment's notice for a long time now.
"Ah—"
Just as I was losing myself in this rare and magnificent view, her face flared red as a boiled beet, and she scrambled to cover herself with the towel hanging beside her.
Aw, damn.
I'd wanted to take in so much more. Tsk… a truly regrettable loss.
My sister-in-law, still rooted in place, glared at me with pure contempt for continuing to stand there and stare.
"Excuse me, what are you still doing here? Just how long are you planning to stand there?"
"Go where? I came in from my workout covered in sweat — I'm here to shower."
"…Th-then just go into the shower stall! Why do you keep staring like that!?"
"You're the one blocking the door. Move, and I'll get in — or not."
"…"
It was true she'd planted herself in front of the shower room door. It was also true that I'd stood there quietly to get a look at a woman's naked body, a sight not easily come by. But on that score, I was guiltless. If she'd simply stepped aside in the first place, we wouldn't be locked in this standoff at all.
"Don't tell me. For all that big talk, you didn't actually want me to look…? What is it they say — influencer instincts?"
"!!!"
My sister-in-law, who had been glaring at me like she wanted me dead, huddled inside her towel and bolted from the changing room.
Aw, damn. Round two.
Why say a thing like that? Hadn't she secretly wanted to show off, after all? If I'd just kept my mouth shut, I could've savored the view for at least another second.
Then again…
It wasn't all disappointment. I'd walked away with side dishes of a quality far beyond anything I'd imagined, so I couldn't exactly complain.
All these various episodes let me piece together a fair picture of my sister-in-law's daily routine.
What time she heads off to shower, for instance.
Frankly, aside from helping me secure my side dishes, none of it was of the slightest use. In time, though, I moved on to the next stage: study. Mapping out every possible scenario for how I might stretch my viewing time of her body even longer.
This wasn't the kind of problem you could solve by brute-forcing your way through — it demanded actual thought. And when the prize was side dishes of that caliber, I was more than willing to put up with the hassle.
Looks like she went out somewhere today. When's she coming back?
I didn't want to ask Kim Taeho — I had no interest in so much as talking to him, let alone crossing paths. But I couldn't exactly call the woman herself and ask, either.
Like she'd tell me.
We were already on terrible terms, and she half treated me like a pervert as it was. Asking her that would only make me look weirder, so all I could do was wait. The art of waiting, after all, is a gentleman's virtue and his dignity both. No need to rush.
Bzzz-bzzz.
"The hell?"
I was waiting while enjoying a video from my Jikbakguri folder when my phone suddenly started buzzing. Getting interrupted mid-enjoyment put me in a thoroughly foul mood. I peeked at the caller ID to see who it was.
"Spam…? Hmm, doesn't seem like it…"
It was a number from my own area, and it gave off that vague feeling of a number I'd seen somewhere before but never saved. So not spam. Since my computer was already on, I searched the number on a whim.
And…
"Liquor Market? Well, I do shop there. But why on earth would they be calling me out of nowhere?"
There'd been nothing on their socials or KakaoTalk — no event announcements, no restock notices. Even if I'd somehow missed them, it wasn't the season for that kind of thing. A few question marks hung in the air, but there was no harm in picking up.
"Hello?"
[Am I speaking with Kim Taeyang?]
"Ah, yes. Speaking."
[Ah. Hello. This is Yoo Hanseok, the manager of Liquor Market.]
"Oh, hello. It's been a while since I heard your voice. What can I do for you?"
[Ha ha, well, the thing is… we've run into a rather difficult situation involving you, Mr. Kim.]
"A difficult situation? Oh — is it about that product I was looking for never coming back in stock…?"
[No, no. It's not that kind of issue…]
???
I tilted my head, wondering what else it could possibly be. Then, from the other end of the line, came a small, barely audible sigh.
[It's just that… someone here — a w—… no, a certain person claims she's some kind of influencer? And she's been throwing your name around, Mr. Kim, trying to walk off with bottles of liquor.]
"…I'm sorry, what?"