Aversion
Dad wasn't nearly as sensitive as Mom. He was dense enough that unless he saw or heard something with his own eyes and ears, he would never notice whatever was going on in the house.
Maybe it was just his blunt personality. Or maybe, since Mom usually filled him in on everything from the side, he simply never had much reason to be curious.
That was probably why I preferred the times when only Dad was around. He mostly stayed in his room resting, rarely came out, never pried into this or that, and wrapped things up with just a few fatherly questions.
Having Mom around—whose instincts were practically razor-sharp—was always a burden.
Dad stayed in the room; Mom camped out in the living room. Whenever the two of them shuffled back and forth for a glass of water or whatever, I grew so jumpy that even their footsteps put me on edge.
I really need to get out of this house soon.
If it weren't for this whole mess, I wouldn't have to walk on eggshells at all. I'd act however I damn well pleased, without a second thought.
But with Song Haneul right next to me, I had to stay on constant alert about when our bodies might switch again. And once they did, my nerves frayed like this—so either way, nothing about it was going to feel comfortable.
I wanted to live on my own as soon as possible, but we needed to switch bodies first before we could even go look at places.
If we just went and rented a two-room apartment and moved out together in this state, it would only make things more awkward.
“Oh, Haneul, are you heading out?”
I tightened my grip on the strap of the bag I'd packed to look convincing.
“Just to a café for a bit…”
The answer felt lame even to me. Going to cafés at the drop of a hat—didn't that seem a little off? I couldn't help fretting over how it looked.
Without any real confidence, I kept second-guessing how I must appear from the outside, growing more careful by the second.
“I see. Will you be late?”
“No. I'll be back before dinner.”
“Hmm, all right. Be careful.”
“Yes, I will.”
“It's cold out. Bundle up more.”
“This is enough.”
I dipped my head in a quick bow and fled outside like I was escaping.
Imagining Song Haneul following right behind, I lengthened my strides and walked briskly.
Just like before, I rented a room and stepped inside first. The upside was that, unlike last time, there was nothing I had to prepare ahead of time. The downside was that the only preparation required was mental.
I sat on the edge of the bed and clasped my hands together. I didn't particularly believe in any religion, but if praying were an option, I would have prayed to anything that would listen. Even if I cobbled together some faith on the spot and begged, who was actually going to hear me?
I knew full well that once we'd come this far, there was no turning back. No matter how much of it had been said in the heat of the moment, I was the one who had brought it up first. And the fact that if the mood had just been right yesterday, we might have done it right then and there left me briefly unsettled.
It was my own body, my own dick—and yet here I was, seriously contemplating sucking it with my mouth. That alone was pretty impressive.
Otherwise he wouldn't switch our bodies back.
“You waiting long? Mom asked if I was going out drinking again, so I just said yeah and came.”
It didn't take long for Song Haneul to show up.
After I opened the door for him, a flicker of tension hit me—yet the thought that this could finally put an end to that stifling life left my mouth bone-dry. The fact that what I had to do to reach the goal wasn't exactly easy kept snagging at my ankles.
“Good job.”
“What's with that face?”
“It's always like this.”
“It wasn't always that expression.”
I clicked my tongue and turned my head away.
What did the expression matter anyway.
“That's not important right now.”
“Well… true enough. Should I strip right away? Or wash up first? How do you want it?”
Song Haneul casually shrugged off his coat.
I flinched hard at the question he tossed out with a snicker. We washed every single time, and cleanliness mattered more than anything, so there was nothing to debate. I wanted to get it over with as fast as possible, but there was still an order to these things.
“Wash first.”
“Phew, washing a lot these days. It's not even summer.”
“Whose fault is that.”
I glared daggers at him, but Song Haneul didn't so much as glance my way as he hurried inside.
It was the kind of move that said he had zero interest in hearing another word out of me.
Song Haneul came out of the bathroom almost right away.
His hair looked soft and fluffy, I supposed.
He padded over in nothing but a robe, and for a moment our eyes met.
He brushed his hair back and gave an awkward little smile.
“No need to wash the hair, right?”
As if he'd felt my stare, he tacked on a completely unnecessary justification.
I'd thought it was fine, but maybe even he found it weird on his own.
“Doesn't matter…”
I wasn't about to suck on hair, after all.
I tried to act casual, normal—but the situation itself was anything but normal, so it wasn't easy.
I kept finding myself lowering my head, compromising, and I didn't like that one bit.
The fact that this was all I could actually do about it left me a little uncomfortable.
“Aren't you washing?”
“Me? I'll just brush my teeth and come back.”
“No. Just wash up. If you skip the hair it's quick.”
“…You.”
“No, seriously.”
Even as I glared, Song Haneul raised both hands, completely unfazed.
Wondering if he really had no ulterior motive, I leaned my head forward a little. Song Haneul only shrugged his shoulders with perfect confidence, which made me freeze for a second.
I pouted, then let out a long, heavy sigh.
“Fine. Whatever.”
Skipping the hair really did cut the washing time way down. Shampoo, conditioner, rinse—there was just so much to do that it was inevitable, I supposed.
I wrapped myself in a robe the way Song Haneul had, but it felt enormous on me. Different body sizes, of course.
“Done washing, huh.”
Song Haneul, who'd been fiddling with his phone, turned his head.
“What are you watching?”
“Nothing. Just a video?”
“Don't tell me.”
“No way. Why would I carry that around on my phone?”
He recoiled with a look of pure disgust.
Apparently feeling wronged, Song Haneul thrust the phone straight at me.
“Here. Satisfied?”
“You watch old variety shows too?”
“The old ones are more fun.”
“Yeah, true.”
These days they dug up every old variety clip imaginable, so there was never a dull moment. Play them one after another and time just flew by.
“When are you going to work on dramas? You need to get a job too, you know.”
But this really wasn't the time for that, was it?
I had to return to school; he had to find work. We each had things we needed to do with our own bodies. Dodging it like this wasn't going to produce any answers.
Once we switched, I could attend classes without any trouble—but Song Haneul couldn't, so the worry slipped out of me.
I sent him a pointed look, hoping he'd catch what I was really trying to say through that concern.
What I was actually fretting over was my own future, but saying it that bluntly would only hurt his feelings.
“A job…”
He set the phone down and let out a sigh.
“How's the new scenario coming?”
“It's not.”
“Yeah, I haven't seen you writing once.”
Before, he used to hunch over the laptop working hard at something. These days there was no sign of that. He just seemed like someone who spent all his time researching what kind of sex felt good, or what this or that from some video must feel like.
I had no idea how much porn he'd watched to make the tissue string that long in such a short time.
Had he just sat around watching that stuff the whole time I was in the military?
“Enough. Did we come all the way here just to do life counseling?”
With that, Song Haneul untied the belt of his robe.
The fabric parted left and right, baring his body.
Below the collarbone, chest and abdomen came into view. Between his casually spread legs, a single dangling mass drew the eye.
“Huh.”
“Make it hard. With your mouth.”
“…Ah, fuck off.”
“It's oral either way. What's the problem?”
Even getting it hard?
The corner of my mouth twitched. Even for someone who usually hated this kind of thing, this was a bit much.
I wasn't exactly in a great mood. Something that could have ended after one or two rounds of sex—widening it out like this didn't sit well with me at all.
“Ugh.”
“Don't look at me like that. You said you hated doing it with the ass, so I compromised and took that off the table.”
“Both of them are your coercion.”
“I told you if you don't like it, don't do it.”
“Not switching bodies is the real coercion.”
I grumbled, but nothing changed.
For some reason Song Haneul acted like he had zero attachment to his own body.
I couldn't understand that, so I asked for no good reason.
“Don't you have any attachment to your body? It's not like you haven't done anything with it.”
“Attachment? I do.”
“Where exactly do you see that.”
“Hugging it like this?”
“You're insane… you're joking, right?”
“Yeah.”
Watching him chuckle, I realized I'd just been toyed with.
There was plenty I wanted to say, but I couldn't say all of it, so I just sighed. My hesitant, wandering gaze eventually drifted lower and lower until I was kneeling right in front of Song Haneul.
I matched the height of my eyes to it. The dick sitting there alone in my field of vision made me hesitate a little. My head simply refused to move forward, was the best way to put it.
Even so—the thought kept pushing me back.
Like trying to force the same poles of two magnets together, I kept whipping my head away.
“When are you going to do it?”
“I will.”
Just get it over with already, switch bodies or whatever—I had to.
Once our bodies were back to normal, just you wait.
I'd pay back every single bit of torment so far.
The corner of my mouth twisted. The hesitant lips slowly parted.
The mere thought of doing this with my mouth was pure horror. Even as my tongue came out to meet it, my mouth kept trying to close. The gaping lips finally sealed shut again right in front of it.
I glanced up at Song Haneul.
“…Can't we do it some other way?”
“Why?”
“It's a little… over the line.”
“I'll help, then.”
I shook my head at the clear refusal.
But the signal never got through, and my head was grabbed.
“W-wait…”
“You just need to get rid of the aversion, right?”
“No—no…”
Eyes squeezed shut, I had no choice but to meet that unpleasant, hot sensation with my face.
I flailed my hands at Song Haneul, who was rubbing the limp dick all over my face.
His strength was ridiculous; even when I shoved at his body it didn't budge an inch. Instead the grip on my head only tightened.
“Ugh—euk.”
Was this supposed to make the aversion go away?
Every time it rubbed across my face I could feel the shaft.
It seemed to rise little by little, until eventually a dark shadow felt like it was casting itself over my head.