Cleaning Up My Little Brother
Our house had only two rooms.
One was the big room where my two sisters lived together and doubled as the living room and kitchen; the other was the small one I used.
Cramped.
I'd somehow been getting by in a space like this all this time. With how indifferent I'd been to women, dating had been a distant dream anyway. Lee Yurim, my childhood friend, was a great girl, but I couldn't even work up the nerve to confess to her.
So the new "me" had decided to change things — went to school with Yurim, and today even got my hair done at a salon.
Not that I managed to say a word about it.
I'd hoped the women of our house would notice when I got home, and it was the complete opposite. Both of them had just gotten sulky.
Yang Dami spat her usual "idiot" and stormed off, while Yang Dahee hugged me, sniffed me, and then pouted herself into a sulk.
"Hah..."
I let out a wry laugh and flopped backward onto the bed.
Creak.
The old mattress was familiar. Memories of "Yang Dajun" drifted up and circled through my head, recalling the old past as naturally as if it had always been mine.
What had happened to the parents on this side? Even "Yang Dajun's" memories didn't hold the answer. I'd asked Yang Dahee, who'd raised her two younger siblings alone without them, several times — but the answers never came.
"Nuna, what about our mom and dad—"
"Hold on. I need to take this call."
"Nuna, other people are saying that—"
"Dajun, if the laundry's done, can you go bring it in?"
Whenever Dahee deflected and changed the subject, I'd let it slide right away. The years passed that way, until I stopped asking altogether.
I'd simply grown used to a life that depended on my nuna and no one else.
Hmm...
What snapped me out of my musings on the past was the buzz of my phone on the blanket.
Zzzzt.
Still lying on the bed, I raised my arm and held the phone above my face. Texts had come in from both Lee Yurim and Chae Riji. I decided to check Yurim's first.
I told her exactly what had happened right after getting home — how my sister acted, how my nuna acted. House talk like this was something I could only ever share with Yurim.
With Yurim's promise to see me again tomorrow as the last message, I switched screens. Now it was Chae Riji's turn.
A girl with golden eyes and beige hair tied in a side ponytail — a stark contrast to the short-haired Yurim in terms of image. I closed out of Riji's profile picture and checked her texts.
She was practically bouncing through the screen, making a point of the fact that we'd agreed to be friends. So her personality really was that bubbly — even her texts came out like this.
I'd felt bad about turning down her invitation to hang out this morning, but apparently she hadn't taken it to heart. Even after Yurim made it obvious the two of them were close at the salon, Riji hadn't seemed to mind at all, which I appreciated.
Then I should send one back.
I sent an emoticon far cuter than anything the old "Yang Dajun" would have used.
She kept hammering on the word friends. The way she was subtly closing in made me flinch.
If I keep dodging her, is she going to just show up and drag me around by force?
The kind of girl who'd laugh off anything could just as suddenly flip her attitude and start strong-arming me. It could start with grabbing my hand — "It's fine, we're friends!" — and only escalate from there.
Maybe I should just keep avoiding her?
I was thinking through how I could get these girls to pounce on me. Lee Yeryeong had shown interest in my relationship with her sister, so the closer I got to Yurim, the more provoked she'd be — she'd come at me boldly. And Yurim herself?
Maybe I'll invite her over, let something lewd happen, then pretend to fall asleep.
That felt like it could be the first key to letting myself get devoured by women.
Lewd thoughts flitted through my head. I was tired from being out all day, but so much had built up over these past twenty-four hours that I wanted release.
The only naked women I'd ever seen were my "nuna" and my "little sister," so I couldn't picture anyone else. Maybe it was the depravity of it, but my cock twitched all on its own.
That gave me shivers.
After a full-body shudder, I slowly pulled down my pants. Since "Nuna" was sulking, she wouldn't set foot in my room — so I could relax and start running both hands over my cock.
Knock knock knock.
"Dajun?"
Yang Dahee called her little brother's name as she carefully opened his door. Even as she stepped inside, she pressed her lips tight, keeping her face wiped clean of any smile.
Because I'm absolutely not going to smile for him.
Displeased that he'd gone off to hang around other women without her, she'd resolved to speak in a voice sunk completely flat.
But the moment Dahee opened the door and stepped in, she froze at the scent that rushed up to meet her.
"Hm...?"
A strange odor hung in the room. Dahee narrowed her brow and stood there a beat, blinking blankly as she scanned it.
No way. It can't be.
She recalled the male musk that had vibrated through the house when she came home from work yesterday, then quickly shook her head. It was an addictive smell, but she forced her face to stay cold and spoke in a flat, mechanical voice.
"Yang Dajun. Dinner."
"..."
Even calling his name drew no answer. Dajun lay on the bed, face still turned to the side.
"What are you doing."
She deliberately dropped her voice low and strode over. He'd stripped his shirt off — bare to the waist, navel exposed.
"Ah... he's asleep."
She took his shoulder to roll him onto his side, and a soft, colored breath escaped him. Dajun was fast asleep, eyes gently closed.
Must have been exhausted. Shirt all the way off, too...
A boy sprawled asleep with his belly button on display, without a shred of shame. Thank goodness it was his nuna who found him — if any other women had seen this, their eyes would have rolled back.
Sulky as she was, he was still her beloved little brother, and she couldn't just leave him like that, so she reached down to pull his top back over him.
And then.
"Ah..."
The instant she leaned close to his stomach, the scent of a man billowed up into her face.
Unlike a woman's sweet-tart fragrance, this was a thick smell that clung stickily to the inside of her skull.
Enchanted by the smell that stirs women, Yang Dahee brought the tip of her nose to her beloved little brother's lower abdomen, her eyes gone hazy and unfocused.
"Hah..."
Her high, straight nose bridge prodded again and again at her little brother's stomach. She rooted recklessly across the skin he must never bare so carelessly, drinking in the scent from every corner.
"Hahk, hoo... hoohk... hehk, hek..."
She buried her face in his abdomen, heaving deep breaths, one hand slipping down to her own lower half. Each inhale made her head sting; each little jolt of her chin sent her fingers working back and forth. Through one thin layer of underwear, she ground against the plump mound of her pussy as a trickle of juices seeped out.
She couldn't even be sure her brother was really asleep. Dahee suddenly lifted her head and slapped her own cheeks, regretting it far too late.
"Hh, hheu... ah... aah? Wh-what did I just do...?!"
She'd meant only to pull his shirt down — and somewhere along the way she'd ended up face-first in his stomach, eyes rolled back, huffing his scent.
...There's no way he woke up. Right?
She jolted upright and whipped her gaze back to her brother.
"D-Dajun?"
"..."
She even leaned in, pressed her lips to his ear, and whispered quietly to check whether he was asleep. No matter how many times she called his name at his side, no answer came back.
Watching him slumber soundlessly, without so much as a twitch, the sister in her stirred back to life.
Ugh, I've lost my mind.
The mere fact that she'd gone into heat sniffing her own brother's scent mortified her. It would be one thing if the circumstances had been proper — but to have soaked between her legs from nothing but the smell rising off his stomach? Her face burned.
Dahee brushed the bangs back from her sleeping little brother's face and studied it.
The little brother she'd raised with tender care in place of their parents. Her own flesh and blood — dearer to her than anyone in the world.
And...
Dahee leaned toward her brother's forehead and pressed her lips softly to it.
Smooch...
Her lips stuck and released with a light, mortifying little sound. No one was watching, and yet she glanced around all the same and drew in a big breath.
"Hah, hahh..."
The thought that she'd kissed her brother's forehead made the corners of her mouth curl up before she could stop them.
He was the only man who would ever be allowed into Yang Dahee's life — of course her heart couldn't help but pound itself senseless.
Every beat pumped blood through her whole body, and a heat spreading up from below flushed her from head to toe. And then—
"Ah...?"
Her senses sharpened to a needle point, and Dahee suddenly furrowed her brow. An unfamiliar scent had threaded in and stung its way up her nose.
A smell that had never been there before. The scent of a stranger she knew nothing about.
...The scent of another woman — one that should never be coming off her little brother's body.
It was, in fact, the very same foreign scent that Dahee had whirled away from just this afternoon, turning her back on her brother.
"Tch..."
She clicked her tongue, and her grip clenched hard enough that her nails left marks in his skin.
Her expression sank dark again as she stared fixedly at Yang Dajun's face.
"Yang Dajun. Did you really go see another woman?"
He was such a good boy — there was no way he would.
She forced herself to shake her head, but the other woman's scent still swirled dizzyingly around her, knitting her brow tight. The only women he knew were his nuna, his sister, and a childhood friend.
Before long she was feeling outright sour about it, as if a stain had bloomed across a spotless white cloth.
"Where is it coming from..."
Murmuring that, Dahee slid down from her brother's face.
Quieting even her breathing so he wouldn't wake, she buried her face in the nape of her little brother's neck.
...It's coming from here.
Maybe it had just soaked into the air, but the fact that another woman's scent clung to his nape made her bite her lip. Another woman's smell, dirtying the scent of the little brother she loved. And mixed in — faint, but unmistakable at times — that tingling musk of a male.
"Hahk..."
She'd pressed her nose into his nape and inhaled so deep she was nearly cross-eyed with it, her pupils swimming out of focus.
Whoever she was, that other woman's scent kept grating on Dahee's nerves.
"...I have to clean it off him."
Panting as she gazed down at her brother, Dahee soon murmured it low and stuck her tongue out long.
Chuuub...
She pressed her bright-red tongue against Dajun's throat and dragged it slowly from bottom to top, beginning to lick, little by little. Face buried in the nape of her brother's neck — a place no one else was ever permitted to touch — she licked it corner to corner, coating every inch in her saliva without missing a spot.
"Chub... tsk... Yang Dajun... Nuna's going to clean you all up... chuuub..."
She licked his nape with wet, sticky sounds, puckered her lips to suck at his protruding Adam's apple with a lewd pop. Like a woman kissing the man she loved, she bit at him all over, sucked with a lewd slurp, stretched her long tongue out to lap at him slick and slow.
Without pausing, drooling saliva over him, she scrubbed her brother's body squeaky clean.
"Tsk... chub... here too... I'll make this place clean too... chuuub...♡"
Soon Dahee was pressed so tight against him she'd clambered fully on top, wrapping her arms around her own little brother and parting her lips wide.
As a nuna she was supposed to tend to her brother; as a woman she was supposed to protect her man — and yet.
"Mmm... love my little brother's smell, love iiit... mmmb... tsk♡ hoo, hohk... hoohk... hah♡"
Abandoning even her role as caretaker, Dahee flared her cute little nostrils wide, determined not to miss a single molecule of her brother's scent. Face buried in his nape, she inhaled everything within reach—
—until a sharp tingling stabbed up the back of her neck, whiting out her vision and snapping her bolt upright.
"Hk, hahk... hoohk... hheung...? Hik, hah...? Haah, haangh!!"
Still straddling her little brother, Dahee clamped a hand over her mouth and shivered, letting moans leak out in little tremors. The sensation was so dizzying her head threatened to fall back, her limbs refusing to obey — all she could do was jolt again and again.
Before long, her vision returned as if fog were lifting, and Dahee bowed her head to glare down at her brother for a long, long moment.
"Dajun..."
She'd already come once, and her mind had burned completely white.
She'd forgotten why she'd even come into her little brother's room, lost entirely in craving the body of a man. With that male scent raking through her skull, not a shred of reason remained — and Yang Dahee could think only of the one man she knew.
Yang Dajun — the little brother who shared her blood, lying right before her eyes.
"Hk..."
Lowering herself, she flared her nostrils once more.
Determined to find where the scent grew thickest, she resolved to clean it away thoroughly — with a nuna's mouth, tongue, and throat.
A dangerous smell like this... if I don't wash it away, other women will come circling.
She was the only woman allowed at his side, so licking him, sucking him, marking him with her saliva — all of it was for her brother's sake.
With a small nod, Dahee pressed her face flush against her little brother's body and began to inch her way down.
Past the chest rising and falling in quiet sleep, to his navel. Past his lower abdomen, to the space between his slightly parted legs.
Hands and limbs flat against the bed, sliding down bit by bit — the place where Yang Dahee finally stopped was between her little brother's legs. The groin where a man's thing hung.