Relations
Once. Twice. Three times. And then once more, because it would've been a shame to end it there. A little time still left, so one last time. …Just once more. Once more. And once more after that.
I had lost count of how many just once mores I'd used as an excuse while pumping semen into the most secret place Lee Jiyoon had. Maybe that was why.
The voice that used to whisper …pervert bastard every time I pressed the head to her lips was gone. So was the one that had gone quiet while she spread herself with two fingers and murmured, You already came inside anyway…. …It's fine. Gone, too, the hush of her talking under her breath while I had her pinned and finished inside her: …You're tired already? For real? Already? And the one that had leaked a snicker—Even a monkey wouldn't go this far. …You animal. Even the careful little probe, …Did you go this long with Lee Hayun, too?—I couldn't hear that anymore either.
All that reached me now was Lee Jiyoon's rough, panting moans, sunk deep in climax.
It stood in such stark contrast to the cold Lee Jiyoon I knew from ten years on. Shove a cock filthy with semen in that future girl's face and she would only wrinkle her brow a little, glance at me once, and then dutifully give me a cleaning fellatio—and yet she was nothing like the Lee Jiyoon of ten years later, who met everything with a lukewarm look and turned her eyes away, uninterested. My lower back, which by all rights should have been aching, still sparked with a pleasant tingle.
"Hoo…."
"…Mmph, ha…, haah…, hahk…."
…I was going to lose my mind.
Even when I'd been practicing as a villain, I had never once gone so far as to finish inside. And on top of that I'd emptied my balls completely, pouring every last drop into Lee Jiyoon. Maybe that was why. An endless sense of conquest flooded my skull until it felt like my brain was melting clean away.
If I'd actually given in back when those girls scratched and wheedled at the condom on my cock, begging to do it raw, today wouldn't have been anywhere near this satisfying. I'd nearly let this thrill slip past me. Useless sluts.
"…Does it taste good? You've been licking like you mean it."
"Tsk… you think I'm licking this crap because it tastes good, you moron…?"
"No?"
"Wanna try some yourself? You're a guy, so you don't really know what semen tastes like, right? Come on, I'll pass it over with a kiss. Open your mouth. Hurry."
"No thanks. I can go my whole life without knowing. Don't even want to."
"…Ha. And yet earlier you stuck fingers covered in my slick right into my mouth…."
"…I did?"
"Yeah. You did. You bastard…. Schlrp…."
"How do you know what was on my hand was your slick? …Did you figure it out by taste?"
"Koff—! Cough! Cough…!"
"Don't tell me you've been doing it alone…."
"The smell, the smell, you idiot…! It's the same smell I get on my hands when I masturbate, and your hand reeked of it…!"
Lee Jiyoon, still snapping and bristling, turned me on far more than those girls who'd put on some half-baked cute act and begged for raw sex with no connection between us at all. Even after showing me that much of her shame, she was still trying her hardest to act like her usual self, and that was filthy hot. While I stroked her head and she licked my cock, she reached down as if to toy with her clit, then pretended she hadn't, groping along her lower belly and sneaking glances at me—and that drove me insane. She knew she'd let something embarrassing slip; her brow creased faintly and she sucked with desperate focus, as if to tell me not to talk, and that was sigh-worthy hot.
…But even so, I couldn't roll around vulgarly with Lee Jiyoon one more time.
Good girls don't go trotting around outside late into the night.
"We should wash up soon. You've got to be home before one, at least."
"…Mmn…. What time is it…?"
"Almost midnight."
"…Already?"
"Check your phone. It's right there."
"…."
"If you don't want a lecture from your sister, wash up quick. I'll shower later."
"…."
…Of course.
"What are you doing. Get in already…."
"…C-come with me."
"…."
"Come in with me…. ……Like we did at our place."
"…."
"…Do you not want to…?"
"…I'm finishing as fast as I can. We don't have time."
"Y-you mean the shower, right?"
"…."
"…."
"…Hurry."
"…Mm."
A girl who only played innocent in front of her sister was no different.
Luck always comes with a price.
If someone said, Hmm. Interesting. And why is that? and told me to produce a logical reason, honestly, I wouldn't have a word to offer. Mmm. A woman's intuition, maybe? Anyway, living long enough, the thought would strike me out of nowhere.
Take a few recent examples from my own life. Jiyoon suddenly announced she'd done a light bit of housecleaning, and I wondered if she'd finally grown up—only for her to air the place out so long that the air in my room became completely identical to the dead of winter outside. Or the time she said, out of nowhere, Since I was washing the blankets, I just ran the laundry too, and I was so genuinely proud I nearly teared up—only to find she hadn't separated the whites from the jeans, and several outfits had to be demoted to sleepwear. Or the time she made her first friend and I was as happy as if it had happened to me, only for that friend to be my boyfriend, and for Jiyoon to be holed up in a PC café with him all evening, leaving me unable to reach him the entire time.
The more I turned it over, the stranger and more uncanny it felt. It was almost as if something as abstract as luck had a fixed total amount. As if, because you'd just taken this much on the plus side, you would someday have to give back this much on the minus side to keep the balance.
Well… if the price of my shut-in gamer of a little sister slowly learning how to be a person was a handful of trivial conditions like those, it wasn't so bad.
…Ah. Then what would happen if I won the lottery? Step outside on a rainy day and get a stinging flick on the head from a bolt of lightning? Or get slammed—wham—by one of those isekai trucks from the novels….
The river of nonsense thoughts, drifting however it pleased right before sleep, stopped there.
I had been melting under the warm blanket when the sound of the door lock being punched in from outside made me haul myself up, sluggish and reluctant. I already knew who it was. To check the time I let out a long haaah of a yawn and tapped the phone plugged into the charger.
The screen flared bright, and the numbers filling it were—
"…Huh?"
Not the big 12 I'd been expecting. A big 1. And tacked on behind it, the number 30.
"What? It's one-thirty…?"
Woojin had said he'd probably head home around midnight, and this wasn't anywhere near midnight—it was one-thirty, later even than what Jiyoon had told me. I squinted against the bright phone light, killed the screen again, and stretched long and slow.
Games ran long, match after match, so I didn't really want to make a fuss over a thirty-minute gap. But what was this feeling, this urge to scold her senseless over being only half an hour late? A mother's heart, laying down a curfew for her daughter?
"…Mmm."
…Haah. No. Forget it.
This had to be her first time going to a PC café with a friend. She'd probably played with Woojin for as long as she wanted and come home. Nitpicking something like this would feel a little petty. And knowing Jiyoon, anything I said would go in one ear and out the other anyway. Forget it. Forget it.
Still, what had been so fun that she'd half-answered her phone and come back this late? The little sulk lasted only a moment. I yawned, rubbed my eyes, and opened my door.
"You're back…?"
"Y-yeah."
Come to think of it, this might have been the first time in my life I'd greeted Jiyoon like that. Coming home relatively late had always been my role; waiting at home, gaming, had been hers. I was scratching my cheek at the awkwardness of a greeting I'd never said before when Jiyoon, kicking off her shoes in the entryway, lost her balance, swayed, and caught herself on the shoe cabinet.
She'd said she was going to a PC café, so I'd figured on slippers—but surprisingly, sneakers. And the khaki jumper I always saw her in… the black ball cap I always saw her in. Exactly the outfit she used to wear when she worked the café part-time over break. I stared at it blankly for a moment, then tossed out a few words without much thought.
"Jiyoon."
"…S-sorry I'm late. Unnie. We were gaming with Woojin and, um…. …Neither of us—me or Seo Woojin—could find a place to stop, so we just… kept going. …We played a ton…."
"…? No. Forget that…."
"…Ah. Okay."
"Those clothes from before…. The coat, was it? Anyway, the stuff you went and bought with Woojin. Why aren't you wearing any of it?"
"…Th-the coat? Why…?"
I'd asked with genuinely nothing behind it, but for some reason Jiyoon was stammering hard, tripping over her words. I'd never seen her like that. What was going on? …And why were her ears that red? It hadn't been that cold today, had it? The night air had been cool when I went to the mart. Was she weak to the cold from staying inside all the time? Or maybe her white hair just made it stand out…. Whatever. It wasn't important.
"Why are you still on classic Lee Jiyoon? Woojin bought you all kinds of clothes back then. Three outfits at most, but still."
"…Why would I wear those."
"What do you mean, why? You gonna throw them out?"
"I'm not throwing them out. …They're just kind of a waste."
When I asked, rubbing my eyes with the back of my hand, Jiyoon answered differently than usual—hesitant, like she was watching my face for a reaction. The thought that she might've eaten something weird at the PC café got set aside for a moment. I leaned a shoulder against the wall and went on.
"A waste, my ass. What exactly is being wasted? You buy clothes so you can wear them."
"…They're a waste anyway. I'll wear them later."
"It's almost April. Winter's basically over, so what are you—"
"Then I'll wear them next year."
"By next year the trend will have changed. Dummy."
"Since when have I ever dressed like I cared about trends…."
"…Haah. Fine, fine. Do whatever you want…."
"…."
I didn't feel like dragging the argument out any further, so I cut it off and wound a strand of hair around my fingertip. I had no idea what was supposed to be such a waste. Was it because it was the first gift from her first friend, and she wanted to treasure it? A girl who swore all the time while she gamed, suddenly acting like some heavenly maiden about this…. …Well. She'd figure it out. Yeah. I was too sleepy to fuss over something that small.
I stretched until my arms trembled, then, before the conversation could wander off again, let the question I'd meant to ask fall out of my mouth.
"Anyway."
"…."
"You really didn't say anything weird to Woojin, right?"
"…I didn't."
"Should I go to the infirmary tomorrow and ask him myself?"
"Do whatever…."
Maybe it was the hour. Jiyoon looked dead tired too; she nodded weakly and headed for her room.
…Honestly, I couldn't quite believe her a hundred percent. But not believing her wouldn't change anything. I scratched the back of my neck and went into the bedroom, simply hoping Woojin hadn't been taken in by whatever she'd said.
"…."
…That night, I think I did something really strange in a dream. By morning, I couldn't remember any of it.