Can't We Eat at Home? (2)
"It's your fault for doing that."
"Ugh..."
She rolled and tumbled.
The woman thrashing about on one side of the bed was none other than Jeong Ayeong.
The towel had already been flung far away.
I was the one who should have felt grossed out, yet I found myself fretting over her instead.
Her body trembled with shame, shuddering in waves.
It looked like she wouldn't be coming out of that groggy state anytime soon.
I might as well make some food.
"I'll use the kitchen."
"Mm..."
I slipped off my coat with a light shrug.
It was only lunchtime, but having this kind of free time was a genuine luxury.
Early dismissal really did have its own special flavor.
Leaving the still-trembling Jeong Ayeong behind, I headed for the kitchen.
Opening someone else's refrigerator was rude, but I'd already been given permission, so it didn't matter.
Was it because they lived well?
An apartment in Seoul meant at least a middle-class household.
The fridge was packed with abundant side dishes and ingredients.
Kimchi jjigae would be perfect for the soup.
There was mackerel too, so I could grill that and serve it alongside the banchan.
Alright then—time to start cooking.
Bubble, bubble.
After the towel incident, Jeong Ayeong was still trapped under the status effect called shame when the aroma pricking her nose finally dragged her back to her senses.
The scent drifting in from the kitchen.
It was the fragrance of kimchi jjigae—the kind that made any Korean's DNA react and saliva pool instantly.
Ayeong's nose twitched.
Cooped up at home all the time, she mostly lived on instant food rather than proper home cooking.
And yet.
Strangely enough, the moment she thought Han Sein made this, her stomach growled without pause.
Her body moved on pure instinct.
"Ah..."
Ayeong's mouth fell open.
Han Sein standing there in an apron.
It made a corner of her heart flutter hard enough to ache.
She stared blankly; he tilted his head.
"It's almost ready. Come eat."
"Mm..."
"You're hungry, right? The rice is just about done."
"Th-thanks."
Her face burned.
The sight of him wearing an apron, tasting the soup and smiling gently, was far too stimulating.
A desire rose up—she wanted to see this every single day.
To live with him, to face him every morning.
To eat the meals he prepared.
To play together.
To fall asleep side by side.
And then…
"Jeong Ayeong!"
"A-ah?! Y-yes!"
"What are you just staring at?"
"Aah… s-sorry."
She'd drifted into other thoughts again.
Even while berating herself, Ayeong kept gazing blankly at Sein's face.
Those eyes narrowed into thin slits—clearly a look of dislike—yet the emotion shining inside them was special.
Because of the hatred poured on her by so many students, she had grown extremely sensitive to other people's feelings.
Only the negative ones, of course—hatred, contempt.
But this gaze was different.
He was frowning, openly complaining of discomfort toward her.
And yet affection lived inside it.
Thump. Thump.
She couldn't keep spacing out forever.
Reality was not warm enough to spare any consideration for her feelings.
"At least scoop the rice. I'll put the side dishes out."
"Mm..."
There was no room left for distraction.
She wanted to keep looking at those slender eyes a little longer, but she didn't want him to hate her.
She scooped the rice and set the bowls on the table.
"I'll carry it."
"Oh, thanks."
It was a ttukbaegi that looked heavy at a glance.
Heavy from Sein's perspective, of course; for Ayeong it was a weight and size she could lift without thinking twice.
Maybe women really were still women after all.
Ayeong carried the stew over.
The moment she tried to set it down on the table—
"Ow!"
"You okay?"
"Ugh, hot…"
It hadn't been a long burn.
Barely even a first-degree scald, just an unconscious flinch.
"Where? Let me see."
"Mm…? Euk."
Sein, who had been bringing the banchan containers, closed the distance in an instant.
He set the dishes on the table and took her hand, gently stroking it.
Ayeong's body locked up completely.
More than the pain in her index finger, the warmth of him pressed so close felt scorching.
"Uuu..."
"Look. Does it hurt a lot?"
His hand settled over hers.
Maybe because of the size difference, the motion took on a fondling quality.
It was more than enough to set her heart racing.
No—this had already gone past mere stimulation.
"…!!"
"Here."
Ayeong's eyes flew wide.
A moist, hot sensation traveled up her finger.
The finger that had touched the hot pot slipped into Sein's mouth.
Normally she would have thought of cold water or infection risk, but the simple fact that it was inside his mouth made it nearly impossible to keep her mind intact.
"Wh-wh-what are you doing…"
"It'll feel a little better like this..."
"Ugh..."
Did he really have to talk while sucking on her finger?
Every so often the warm brush of his tongue made Ayeong's body shudder.
Trembling all over.
Lustful fantasies rose unbidden.
What if the thing Sein was licking…
wasn't her f-finger… but there?
"J-just a second—bathroom!!!"
"Uh, uh… go ahead."
Leaving Sein's voice behind, Ayeong fled to the bathroom as if running for her life.
"Haa… haa… haa…"
Ragged breaths.
Her heart hammered so hard it felt like it was squeezing her chest.
She couldn't calm down.
The finger that had been inside his mouth until moments ago filled her vision.
Still glossy with saliva, her index finger shone wetly.
Ayeong's eyes wavered.
Beneath her still-trembling breath, her lips parted slightly.
Sein's saliva.
The finger he had put his mouth on…?
It was pure instinct.
An action driven only by desire.
Slowly, she brought the finger he had sucked to her own lips.
And then—
"……."
Of course.
Saliva merely met saliva.
Nothing happened.
Yet Ayeong trembled faintly.
Her legs shook.
Her free hand drifted down and groped over her panties.
"Ah, haa… ahaha…"
Wet.
She was soaked.
I need to change my panties… what do I do?
Ayeong hesitated for a moment, then decided to just endure the sticky discomfort.
As long as she didn't spread her legs and hike up her skirt, there was no risk of being found out.
Only the crushing weight of post-nut clarity remained.
She sighed, stared at her finger a second longer, and opened the door.
It had been more of a startled flinch at the heat than an actual burn.
The finger had already been fine for a while.
"You okay?"
"Yeah."
"Let's eat."
After all that circling, it came back to the meal.
A non-incident of an incident.
Sein was completely unfazed.
Ayeong, however, ate for a long time with her head bowed like a guilty criminal.
After that, nothing major happened.
I wasn't sure where the line for "major" even started, but since Ayeong never forced herself on top of me or tried to strip my clothes, I figured it counted as fine.
She sometimes showed impulsive flashes of desire, yet her self-control was surprisingly excellent.
More precisely, she clung hard to the string of reason.
Or maybe she was just a coward.
"I won!"
"…Is that something to brag about?"
"S-sorry..."
Of course you would win.
It's your home console.
I tried digging through my past-life memories, but it was a type of game I'd never seen before.
Something in the PlayStation or Xbox family.
The game itself was a fighting title of a kind completely new to me.
I lost.
Five times, no less.
Well, winning hadn't been the point, so I wasn't sad about it.
Rather than getting angry, I found meaning in simply watching Ayeong light up with genuine joy at her victories.
I'd thought she was the type who only ever shrank into herself, but that wasn't entirely true, was it?
We watched TV, put on a movie, played games—and before I knew it the clock was pushing five.
Originally, that was time to leave.
"Ayeong, I…"
"W-what should we do next!"
I have to go home, you brat.
Unbelievable.
Her completely shameless attempt made a laugh slip out first.
At the beginning I had played along, pretending I couldn't refuse her.
But it was already five o'clock!
By now I should have been home preparing Han Seyeon's dinner.
I couldn't lose this round.
From the texts earlier, Seyeon's mood hadn't looked good at all.
I absolutely had to eat dinner at home tonight.
"I have to go home..."
"Ah… I see."
Her head drooped like a dejected puppy.
Not this time. Really, no.
Looking at me with those sad eyes won't work, Ayeong.
"It's not like I'm moving in."
"A-ahaha… r-right?"
Why did that make her happy?
It had been a thoughtless remark, yet her face flushed red as a beet.
Time to leave for real.
The moment I rose from the sofa, a sound from the front door froze my entire body.
*Beep, beep. Beep-beep beep.*
— Ding-a-ling!
"Ayeong~"
"We're home~"
A middle-aged couple stepped in through the front door.
Jeong Ayeong's parents.
What was I supposed to do? In this gender-reversed world, speaking with older adults was a first for me.
School teachers were one thing.
But a friend's parents? My brain felt like it was locking up.
"A-hello..."
"Oh my. Who might you be?"
"Uh, uhh?!"
It was painfully obvious whose genetics Ayeong's chest had come from.
A mother who resembled her but looked far more socially adept, and a father studying me with open curiosity.
A couple that radiated energy at a single glance.
"M-Mom. Dad."
"He's a classmate."
As I carefully studied their faces, heavy gazes pinned me in place.
Eyes full of heat.
"O-our Ayeong has… a friend?!"
"M-Mom…!!"
"Come right in. Have you had dinner yet? Let's eat together."
"Y-yes…?"
This was bad.
I had been trying to make my escape.
"Won't your parents worry?"
"Ahaha..."
"I can call them for you if you like, so make sure you eat dinner before you go."
Ayeong's parents clearly had no intention of letting me leave.
I wasn't especially good at reading hearts, but I thought I understood theirs perfectly well.
A child who had never once brought a friend home in her entire life suddenly shows up with one—and a boy, no less?
There was no way they would simply let him walk out the door.
"I-I'll text them..."
"Yes, yes. Make yourself comfortable!"
"Yes..."
What the hell am I supposed to send to my sister…?