87. New Year's Day
"...I rinsed my mouth."
My sister approached me with a smile in her eyes after rinsing her mouth. The awkwardness hadn't completely vanished yet, but she'd grown a lot less shy about it. As promised, we kissed, then headed back to the bathroom. We rewarmed our damp, cooled bodies under the water, and while kissing, I finally managed to lather shampoo into my hair. Watching Gyeo-ul stick so close to me even while I washed my hair made me want to tease her.
"Yup."
"...Oppa?"
I lightly poked her nose with my soapy hand. She made a slightly annoyed face, then stretched out her arm to touch my hair, scooping up shampoo foam and smearing it across my face.
"Hey, cut it out—I can't see..."
"You started it first. Take this!"
Unable to open my eyes, I pretended to go for a kiss, pressing my foam-covered face against hers to spread it back.
"Ah! Shampoo's getting in my mouth, oppa!"
"Why? You did it to me too."
"Stop it, for real!"
Gyeo-ul freaked out and turned on the showerhead, rinsing all the shampoo away. When we finally opened our eyes and looked at each other, our hair was plastered to our faces like drowned rats.
"...Pfft."
"Puhuhu..."
It was so childish and ridiculous that we couldn't stop laughing. We cracked up so hard we nearly slipped on the bathroom floor. And as we did, I thought,
...I'm so glad. I'm really glad you're my little sister.
This time, we properly washed our bodies and dried off thoroughly before stepping out—and the living room was a disaster. Water dripped everywhere on the floor, the sofa was soaked, total chaos. It wasn't just water; there was gel and semen splattered around too, making it seriously bad.
"...Um, oppa. What do we do?"
"What do you mean? We clean it up."
"Not the living room... the bed."
...Right, the bed would be wrecked too. I'd forgotten about it midway through since we'd laid down a blanket.
We went back to her room hand in hand and removed the blanket—and yeah, it was a mess here too.
...At least the sheets weren't soaked, right?
"Oppa, you're really too much."
"Hey, it's not all my fault. ...Some of that's yours too."
It wasn't just mine on there. ...If anything, didn't you contribute more? Semen doesn't come out in that much volume, no matter what. And sweat alone wouldn't soak the blanket like that. Even if I tried hard, I couldn't have done it alone.
"It's because you did... all that, so... yeah, you're too much. ...Right?"
"...Well, yeah, but."
...Man, what a little sister—boosting her big brother's ego like nobody's business.
We borrowed some internet wisdom to clean the stains as best we could without leaving marks, then tossed everything in the washer. Thanks to that, Gyeo-ul—who'd lost her bed's blanket—came wandering into my room with nowhere to sleep. She wasn't naked, though; she was in pajamas. I was just in my underwear.
"Do you usually sleep like that, oppa?"
"...When I sleep with you, yeah, this is normal."
"...Pervert."
...I hadn't expected her to actually put clothes on. Guess we'd mostly slept skin-to-skin before. Even our quick naps at the motel lately had been like that.
"Put some clothes on too, oppa. Just in case."
"In case of what."
"...What if we oversleep a bit and Mom comes home early... it'd be bad."
"I'd never let you oversleep."
"Says the guy who slept all day lately."
"That was 'cause my head wasn't right then. I'm good now. ...Thanks to you."
Not sure how she took that, but Gyeo-ul slipped into my bed with a displeased look. She wriggled around inside, then grabbed my hand and placed it on her thigh.
...Bare skin.
"You're such a total perv. Wasn't today enough already?"
"...No plans for more. I said we wouldn't after showering."
"...For real?"
"For real."
I stroked her skin with my palm, slowly shifting toward her butt. I gave those ridiculously plump cheeks a firm squeeze, then moved my other hand to her neckline and undid the front.
...This should be enough to sleep soundly without dreaming.
"...You said no, but why're you undressing me piece by piece?"
"You looked stuffy, so I just loosened the top. ...And you took off my pants yourself."
"You're really not gonna do it anymore tonight, oppa?"
"I said no."
A light goodnight kiss to seal it, then I pulled my half-lidded sister into a tight embrace. Our skin had collided so many times today, but after washing, it felt even warmer.
...And happier.
The sight I'd once been unable even to dream of was right here. I had to protect it. Not just vow it in words—I needed to think practically. This wasn't a dream.
What would it take to protect this? Money? Time? Friends? Family? I didn't have the answer yet, but I'd find it. No one but us would understand anyway.
"...Gyeo-ul, you haven't been hanging out with friends lately, right?"
"Yeah."
"Meet up with them this weekend or something. I'll start keeping up with my friends too."
"...Because of me?"
"Who else?"
Just in case we ever got kicked out of the house, we needed at least a place to crash for a bit, even if just the two of us. 'I got kicked out—can I stay one night?' 'Sorry, but can I live here a month? I'll pay you back somehow later.' How many friends could I say that to without hesitation?
...Excluding the guy in the army, right now? None, honestly.
I needed people who wouldn't pry or would brush it off understandingly. If we weren't planning to live just the two of us forever.
"And... wanna pretend we have lovers?"
"...Lovers?"
"Act like we both have boyfriends/girlfriends. Go on separate 'dates,' meet up midway, then head home separately. Sound good?"
"Do we have to? We get by fine after work now."
"...You need to quit the part-time job. Ask a coworker to cover. ...It's getting risky there."
We had to ditch the part-time gig. No hard feelings toward the boss or coworkers, but someone already knew about us. Staying there was way too dangerous. Honestly, it was a miracle we hadn't been caught sneaking around the back alley every day.
...Maybe we already had been, by someone else.
"Quit the job. Then pretend we have lovers and lay low for a while... but eventually, things'll get tough again. ...They will."
"..."
"Like this time. Or... something worse. We probably won't fight each other, but who knows."
"...So?"
"If we're down or off, Mom'll notice for sure. ...Blame it on lover fights or breakups."
"...Lying to Mom again?"
"When haven't we? ...And technically, it's not even a lie."
I knew it was trash-tier thinking. But with my barely-mature brain, it was the best I could come up with. Show Mom our happy sides a lot, and when things get rough, pin it on romance drama. If we don't get caught, say we have dating trauma and wanna live together. If we do...
I've shown you my happy and my hurt sides plenty, Mom.
I didn't even want to imagine the caught scenario, but I'd grovel if it came to it—visit constantly to apologize, cry with her, take the slaps till my cheeks swelled. No clue if she'd forgive us, but that's what I'd decided.
I couldn't just throw away this happiness I'd grasped. Giving up everything for the worst choice? You wouldn't stand for it.
...You'd probably try getting pregnant for real then.
"And quitting the job frees up time. ...We can work out together, take care of our bodies. ...Prepare. For living ahead."
"...Prepare for living?"
"Honestly, I'm kinda scared? What if I turn into some potbellied old guy and you get sick of me? I worry about that."
Thirty, forty, fifty. Rational attraction fades, wrinkles everywhere, body sags. If we live together forever and know each other too well with nothing new left, will you get bored of me? Will I of you?
"As if. Idiot. ...If anything, the opposite."
"I'd never get sick of you. ...Is there anything more exciting than sex with my little sister?"
"Whoa... that was seriously creepy, oppa."
"...Why? You tease me all the time, emphasizing 'real brother' and stuff."
...If we get bored, so be it. We're siblings anyway. Even if the man-woman spark dies, we can live as brother and sister forever. Couples who blind everyone with affection turn into family like siblings when they're hunched old folks—what's the difference? We're already family, yet we still burn for each other. Not bad at all.
Our genes are solid; manage well, and we can love long-term. Even old and ugly, with memories piled up, we'll cherish each other till the end.
"...And oppa, if you're that worried, just... leave lots of photos."
"...Photos?"
"We're at our prettiest, coolest now... so take proof with me. Then later, when we're old, look at them. ...That way, no cheating. For both of us."
"...Isn't that risky?"
"What're you thinking, oppa? ...Not that kind."
She said it so obviously, then played innocent—too cute.
...Photos or whatever. Even photos are dangerous. I'd lose it alone with stuff like that. I'd die of thirst, seriously.
"...That's for the near future; far future can wait. College first."
"Yeah."
"College, jobs. Eventually move somewhere else. Pricey here, but the place'll be worn out by then."
"Can we save enough to move?"
"Mom won't stay here forever either, so yeah."
"...I kinda wanna live just us two."
...Me too. Obviously. Hiding's exhausting. I wanna live openly too. But even hiding, I wanna live with you. Hide and lie forever if needed—I won't abandon Mom.
"Same, but who'd take care of her then?"
"We would, obviously... but still. ...I like sleeping like this. Ah, what if you live alone separately? I stay with Mom, visit your place weekends? How's that?"
"That needs two houses. Way too expensive, no?"
"You just make bank then. Go big—get a dog or cat, pool's tough but huge screen in the room like a theater. Lie together watching... sometimes... um... How's that?"
"...You're still good to go tonight? Tired was bullshit?"
"...Slipped out. Ah, dog or cat—which you like more, oppa?"
"Changing subject?"
"Anyway! Dog or cat—which, oppa."
My body screamed for sleep, exhausted, but my mind was wide awake, buzzing. We kept talking, spinning grand but possible futures, laughing.
I resolved to dream bigger. Like with Suneung—aim high, so even failure leaves something. Probably cry sometimes... but hope for more laughs. I wanna see you smile more.