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‘Cover your dick!’ someone calls out and, instead of moving, Chris freezes in place and thinks whatwhatwhatthefuckwhatthefuckwha? before there’s a loud bang on the bathroom door and the female voice continues, ‘I need my toothbrush!’
The doorhandle moves downwards swiftly and he realises, belatedly, that he didn’t lock the door, because he never locks the door, because there’s not really any reason to do that when you have nudist tendencies and share a flat with your best friend who doesn’t make a habit of barging in on you in the shower. His brain is still echoing whatthefuck when, a second later, the door opens properly and he gets the chance to put a face to the emphatic voice.
‘Oh,’ she says, body going stop-motion still and cheeks flaring pink and eyes widening where they’re glued to Chris’ naked body—
Oh, indeed, because it’s Jisu, of course it’s Jisu, Changbin said she was going to come visit for the weekend and Chris should’ve remembered that. But it slipped his mind, he didn’t think about it, or maybe he would’ve locked the door when he went to shower on the off chance that she’d try to… what, visit him under the showerhead?
Chris is such a fucking idiot.
‘You are… not my brother.’ All the fanfare has frizzled out of her voice. It’s all soft now, a little breathless, and her gaze is still aimed between Chris’ legs.
He wrests a towel off the heater and wraps it around his waist. ‘I’m not,’ he agrees. He sounds a little off-kilter too and his face feels heated, but—she caught him by surprise. Quite badly. It’s Jisu, all right, with her round cheeks and little rosebud mouth that he remembers so well, but there’s a fresh confidence about the way she holds herself. In her denim skirt and pink top with no bra underneath, she looks good. Like, really good. She looks like the kind of girl he’d hit on if he ran into her in a bar, which is a terribly ill-timed thought for multiple reasons. She’s Changbin’s sister, and you don’t fuck your best mate’s baby sister. You just don’t. More pressingly, there is only a thin towel between her everything and his cock, so he can’t be thinking about fucking her. At all. Even though the deep flush in her cheeks makes it nearly impossible to not think about fucking her. He allows himself another brief glance at where her nipples poke through her flimsy top and finally says, ‘You mentioned needing a toothbrush, I think.’
‘Yes!’ she says, and spins around. She grabs an orange toothbrush from the cup next to the sink where she must’ve left it last night. ‘Thank you. I’m so sorry.’ She shifts on her feet. Her teeth dig into her lower lip as her eyes drop to Chris’s chest again before her gaze snaps back to his face. She smiles, suddenly, and it’s stunning. Her cheeks bunch up cutely. ‘I’m going to… go.’ She waves her hand. ‘Out there. And brush my teeth in the kitchen.’ She backs out of the bathroom. ‘When you’re done here, please come say hi and we’ll both pretend this never happened.’
‘Sure,’ he says. He mirrors the once-over she just gave him. When their eyes meet again, he doesn’t back down. He just smiles when her gaze skitters away. ‘See you in a bit.’
#
He finds her sprawled on the couch with her phone in her hand and an open can of diet Coke on the coffee table. Her thighs look soft and smooth; struck by the sudden desire to mark her skin with his teeth, his tongue, he makes a beeline into the kitchen and pulls open the fridge. Why isn’t Changbin here? Isn’t she here to visit him? How could he leave Chris alone with his sister who is suddenly unbearably, enigmatically hot?
‘Hey, Jisu-yah,’ he calls out, ‘where’s your brother?’
She startles and looks towards him. ‘Work called,’ she says, waving her phone at him. ‘Apparently.’
‘Damn.’ He leans against the counter and takes a sip of his drink. ‘I thought he took the day off for you.’
‘Apparently it couldn’t wait.’ She yawns and it melts into a little squeaky noise. ‘Guess you’ll have to keep me company instead.’
‘Guess I have to,’ he says. He looks at her mouth and tracks the movement of her tongue when she wets her lips. He tells himself to not be weird. Don’t make this weird. Don’t look at her tits, for fuck’s sake. Don’t.
She sits up properly and folds her legs against her chest, then rests her cheek on her knee. ‘How’re you doing?’ she asks. ‘Haven’t seen you in a million years.’
‘And whose fault is that?’ he jokes; he brings his drink with him and sits down on the couch. He keeps a respectable distance between them and reminds himself not to touch her. She is off-limits, even if she’s terribly pretty. Even if she’d probably look all sorts of fucking perfect in his lap. ‘It’s nice seeing you again, Jisu.’
‘You weren’t here last I came,’ she says. ‘So.’
‘So?’
‘So,’ she repeats, smile growing. She leans over to grab her soda and takes a slow sip. ‘I don’t know what you thought was more important than hanging out with me.’
Right now, he can’t think of anything either. Right now, it seems like the most important thing in the world to chat her up—no, not that, it seems important to chat with her and see how she’s been doing and make sure she isn’t feeling neglected or bored while Changbin is at work. That’s chivalry, isn’t it? He’s just being decent. ‘I don’t know either,’ he says anyway, returning her smile in a way that is probably a little bit dirty. He steals another look at the dip of her collarbones before catching her eyes again. ‘So it’s my fault it’s been a million years, is it?’
‘Yep,’ she says. ‘And you forgot my twentieth birthday.’
‘How could I forget something that hasn’t happened yet?’ he asks. ‘You’re still twelve.’
‘Shut up!’ She kicks her foot into his thigh. Her socks have little pineapples on them. ‘It was last month. And yours is in three days.’
He blinks at her.
‘Twenty-three, right?’ she continues. ‘You’re ancient.’
‘Hey! What’d I do to deserve such disrespect?’
‘Forgot my birthday,’ she says sweetly. ‘How’re you going to make it up to me?’
‘You hungry?’ he asks, a beat late because he got distracted looking at her mouth again. ‘I can make you pancakes. If you want.’
#
She sits on the counter next to him as he ladles more batter into the hot pan. He bats her hand away when she tries to steal a finished pancake from the growing stack between them. ‘Bad girl,’ he scolds, only semi-accidentally, and bites back a smile when he hears her tiny, sharp intake of breath. ‘No patience.’
‘I’ve already waited almost a month for these birthday pancakes,’ she says. ‘How’s that for patience?’
‘Then you can wait another ten minutes.’ He eases the spatula under one pancake and gently flips it on to the other side.
‘You’re still good at this,’ she says a moment later, pressing her sole against the cupboard. ‘I remember you were.’
‘Good at what?’
‘Cooking,’ she says. ‘You’d make breakfast sometimes when you slept over with Changbin.’
‘It’s just pancakes.’
She hops off the counter and pulls open an overhead cupboard to get down plates for them both; she grabs utensils from the top drawer and sets the table with jam and syrup and colourful sprinkles.
Chris finishes the last pancakes and brings the plate to the table. ‘Hope you still like them,’ he says and sits down across from her. ‘Maybe I lost my touch.’
‘As if.’ She squeezes an overly generous amount of syrup all over her pancake and adds an equally generous amount of sprinkles on top. She grins at him and forks off a bite, slips it between her tempting lips. Her eyes close as she lets out a pleased little moan and points her fork at him excitedly.
His dick twitches traitorously. He clears his throat. ‘Good?’
She nods eagerly and chews faster to finish the bite. ‘Ohmygod.’ She takes a sip of her drink and licks her lips. ‘Yes. Totally still have the touch.’
‘Good to hear,’ he says. ‘Happy birthday, Jisu. Sorry I didn’t text.’
‘Don’t worry.’ Her smile feels like the sunniest day in June. It feels private and just for him. ‘I don’t think you’re really required to text your friends’ siblings happy birthday.’
‘You’re more than just a friend’s sibling though,’ he says. Implied: you are suddenly dizzyingly attractive and I’m trying to think of five good reasons not to bend you over this table right now and find out what sounds you make when you come. Implied: we’ve probably got at least a few hours before your brother comes back from that urgent shit he had to handle at work. Implied: he wouldn’t have to know.
‘I am?’ She licks her fork clean before she spears another bite of pancake.
‘Of course,’ he says. ‘You’re…’ He trails off. ‘You used to play Mario Kart with us.’
She beams at him. ‘You taught me how to always win.’
‘You were a natural.’ He grins at her and grabs another pancake, smears jam all over it. Jisu was always just Changbin’s little sister, a bit under-socialised maybe, a little shy, but crazy sharp and funny in unexpected ways. Chris was fond of her, sure, and protective enough to beat up that kid who bullied her in the sixth grade, but he never thought too much about her, never looked at her the way he’s looking at her now.
‘Remember—’ She drops her voice like she’s scared of anyone hearing even though they’re alone, ‘Remember when you let me smoke that one time?’
‘Hah.’ He licks at his teeth. ‘Yeah, ‘course I do.’ At one of Changbin’s house parties, Chris had gone out in the garden for a minute to get some fresh air. Suddenly Jisu was there, blushing slightly, asking if he were okay.
‘Yeah, I’m good,’ he said. ‘How’re you?’ When he smiled at her, her blush deepened. She probably had a tiny crush on him, which was kind of cute and very flattering. Even then, he didn’t look too closely though—off-limits, she was, and he was good at respecting boundaries. Changbin would freak. Chris didn’t want any part of that.
‘Me too,’ she said, eyeing the cigarette in his hand. She pointed at it. ‘Can I try that?’
He took another drag. ‘Your brother would kill me.’
Her lips turned into a pout; she kept looking at him.
‘Okay.’ He passed it to her. Overly indulgent, probably too soft. ‘But don’t tell him, okay? It’ll be our secret.’
‘You never told Changbin, did you?’ he asks now, looking at her intently.
‘You would’ve been disappointed if I had,’ she says. ‘I wouldn’t want that.’ There’s something about the way she says it, and about the way she looks at him—he’s not imagining it, he’s pretty sure, that touch of suggestion. The way her eyes stay fixed on his a second longer than they should, the way her tongue swipes across her plush lip. ‘It’s still our secret.’
‘Good girl,’ he says, even though he shouldn’t. Even though he should try to dispel the tension that’s stained the air since she walked in on him naked, not try to augment it. But she ducks her head at his words and it doesn’t hide the way her cheeks turn pink again; he still can’t think of more than one reason he shouldn’t flirt with her, and it’s not even that good a reason. Or it is, but Chris is crumbling fast. He shouldn’t think of this, of her, he should—he should ask her to put on an extra shirt, probably. But that’d be weird, too. That’s, like, bodyshaming, isn’t it? And he’s a feminist ally. He’s read Valerie Solanas. He loves women. God, he loves women, that’s the root of the current issue. Stop thinking about her pussy. Stop it. She is still Changbin’s sister. She is untouchable.
She finishes her last bite of pancake and empties her soda. ‘Thank you for the pancakes,’ she says, and meets his eyes again. ‘Do you have anything else for me for my birthday?’
He puts down his cutlery and leans back in his chair. ‘Dunno,’ he says. ‘I didn’t buy you anything.’
She looks towards the living room door and back at him again. Biting her lip, she puts the lid back on the jam, screwing it tight.
‘You wishing for anything?’
She shrugs one shoulder; she wets her finger and presses it against two stray pink sprinkles on her plate. ‘Guess.’
‘I’m supposed to guess?’
‘Uh huh.’ She gets up from her chair and rounds the table, then plants herself cross-legged on the couch. Her skirt rides up to reveal more of her thighs; he wants to grab them. He wants to grab her.
Wordlessly, he follows her to the couch. He leaves a lot less space between them this time, but they’re still not touching. If she moved just a little bit, they would be. He can smell her perfume, like wildflowers and fresh laundry. He wonders what colour her panties are. ‘Okay,’ he says slowly, catching her eyes again. ‘I guess you’re wishing for my pancake recipe.’
A soft smile blooms on her face. ‘Try again.’
‘I don’t know,’ he says. ‘What do pretty girls want for their birthdays?’
She shifts and suddenly her knee presses against his thigh. ‘Guess again.’
‘Can I have a hint?’ he asks. ‘It’s so hard.’
‘It should be,’ she says with a self-satisfied smile. Without asking, she plants herself in his lap and wraps her arms loosely around his neck.
‘Baby.’ He smooths his hands up her soft thighs. Stop it, stop it, stop it— ‘What’s this?’
She grinds her hips in a way that’s entirely unsubtle and makes his cock fill out with interest. ‘It’s your hint,’ she says. ‘Now guess again.’
He feels up her waist; he puts one hand on the back of her neck and guides her closer and then he just—kisses her. How could he not? Her mouth is soft and eager; she makes a sweet little noise and squirms in his lap as he coaxes her lips apart to play his tongue against hers. She tastes like syrup, the sweetest thing, and clutches his biceps when he touches the small of her back and deepens the kiss.
‘Do you want me?’ she whispers, voice raspy already.
Chris’s mind splinters. He thinks about how pissed-off Changbin will be, but he still kisses her again, nice and slow and dirty till she’s squirming quite desperately. ‘Is that what you want?’ he asks, ghosting his mouth along her jaw. ‘You want me to fuck you right here?’
‘Nngh, yeah,’ she mumbles, nodding erratically. She slides her hands down his chest and hovers her fingertips where he’s visibly hard and trapped in his jeans. ‘In the bathroom, you were so…’
‘Thought we were going to forget that ever happened.’
‘I couldn’t,’ she says, ‘not ever. I need to feel you inside me, you’re so… So big. Want to come on your cock, please.’
‘Fuck.’ He grabs her waist a little tighter and manhandles her down against his lap. ‘You’re so sweet, baby.’
‘I can be.’ She starts to unbutton her skirt with fumbling fingers and throws it to the side as soon as she’s got it off. Her panties are a pale shade of orange and trimmed with lace; there’s a little heart at the front. ‘You wanna do it here?’ she asks, a mischievous curl to her lips. ‘Changbin will come home and watch TV and he won’t know he’s sitting right where you fucked his sister stupid.’
‘Shit.’ His cock throbs again. Unsteady at the thought, he squeezes her thighs and teases his thumbs beneath the edges of her underwear. He’s in way over his head. He’s going to drown. Okay, so he’ll drown—then at least he won’t have to deal with the fallout of this.
‘I know you would,’ she goes on. ‘Fuck me stupid. Wouldn’t you?’
He gives her another searing kiss and flips her around so she’s lying on the couch. ‘Of course, baby.’ He pulls off her underwear and kisses her cunt before she gets the chance to say anything more; she squeaks when he holds her down by the thighs and fits his tongue between the folds of her pussy.
‘Chris,’ she says, high-pitched, squirming on the couch. ‘Chris, ohmygod, what’re you—’
He moans against her and licks into her wet heat. She’s so soft and so responsive for him; she moans with each move of his tongue and whines desperately when he sucks on her clit. ‘You’re dripping for me,’ he says, sliding a finger into her pussy. ‘Fuck, baby, hear how wet you are—’ He mouths at her clit again, the room filling with her breathless moans and the loud, wet noises of her being fingerfucked right to the edge.
‘Fuckfuckfuck—’ The muscles in her thighs tremble. She curls one hand in his hair and rocks her hips up against his face. ‘Can I come, please, can I—’
He keeps moving his fingers inside her till she tumbles over the edge; her cunt clenches tight and she squeals for him. ‘There’s a good girl,’ he praises, easing up a little and kissing across her still trembling thigh. ‘Just like that, baby.’
She tightens up again and throws an arm over her face. ‘Please,’ she mumbles into the crook of her elbow. ‘Please fuck me.’
He kisses her thigh again and slowly pulls his fingers out of her pussy. It takes two tries to get the stupid button of his jeans undone; he’s so hard it fucking hurts. He needs to feel her cunt around him, impossibly tight and so wet just for him, stretched to take everything. He wants to fuck her till she aches for hours; he wants to look at her tomorrow, wants her to look back at him, wants to know they’re both still thinking about it. Their little secret. The guilt doubles inside him but only makes him throb. He wraps a hand around himself and smiles when she whimpers.
‘You’re gonna have to make it fit,’ she mumbles. ‘It’ll hurt. A little.’ She tucks her legs up to her chest. ‘I like it when it hurts a little.’
‘We’ll make it fit, baby,’ he promises, nudging the head of his cock against her clit. She’s shiny with her own slick and his spit, flushed so pink and lovely for him. He teases his cock down her pussy without pushing inside; just gets a feel of her warmth, her wetness, this perfect cunt that’s desperate to be filled. By him. She wants him and he—wants her, even if he shouldn’t. Maybe that’s half the reason why. When did she suddenly get so hot? And he’s weak, terribly weak, and he shouldn’t but does anyway.
She shifts, restless and needy. She pouts at him and it makes him throb with the need to ruin her. It also makes his heart ache a little. ‘Please.’
‘Please what?’
‘Please.’
He thumbs at her clit and smiles again when she jerks from the touch. ‘Okay, baby,’ he says. They already crossed the line, so—commit to the crime. Do the bad thing and repent later. He starts to ease himself inside her; her pussy clenches around him and she sucks in tight little breaths of air. ‘Shh, darling.’ He circles his thumbs at her hipbones. ‘You’re doing so well. Relax for me a little more.’
‘Too big,’ she whines, ‘won’t fit. Won’t, ah—ah-ah-ah, ‘s too much.’
‘It fits perfectly,’ he soothes, slowly grinding deeper into her. ‘You’re taking it so well, baby. You’re so tight for me, you feel so good on my cock.’
‘Nnnng, so full.’ She gasps wetly and catches his eyes; she looks wild, all fucked-out and stunning. ‘So good.’
‘So good,’ he echoes. He pulls back out a little and snaps his hips forward; he keeps fucking her slow and deep, each stroke punching another high, needy gasp out of her. ‘So good, baby, shit, like you were made for my cock.’
She whines for him and clenches again; a second later, her head tilts back and her mouth falls open and she comes a second beautiful time, tightening up so nicely on his cock.
‘Ah—ah-ah, keep—keep fucking me, please.’
He does, of course; how could he stop when she takes him so well and makes the sweetest noises for him? How could he stop when she wraps her legs around his waist and starts babbling mindlessly? How could he ever stop when she’s so fucking pretty like this, flushed and breathless and overstimulated?
He kisses her again, sloppy and wet, and fucks her till his pleasure crests and he comes deep inside her with a broken moan. She milks him through it and whimpers when he pulls out, stuffs three fingers into her pussy and licks them clean of his cum.
He curls up between her legs again to lick her clean and wrings another orgasm out of her. She moans prettily and twitches like caught prey; he presses a tender kiss to her pubic mound and sits up again, runs his hand along her soft calf. She’s still wearing the pineapple socks. Maybe he’ll think of her pussy every time he eats pineapples for the rest of time. Maybe he’ll feel the noose of guilt tighten around his neck.
‘I’m sore now,’ she says and runs her tongue along her bottom row of teeth. ‘You fucked me stupid, Chris.’
‘Isn’t that what you wanted?’
‘Yes,’ she says. ‘You are… stupid hot. But you probably know that.’
‘So are you.’ He tucks a strand of hair off her face and grabs his jeans off the floor. He starts to put them on.
‘You know, you could text me sometimes,’ she says. ‘Or call. Even if it’s not my birthday.’
He looks at her face. ‘I could,’ he says a moment later. ‘I could do that.’
She smiles. The flush in her cheeks deepens again. ‘We should tidy up,’ she says. ‘Changbin might be home soon.’
‘Yeah,’ Chris says, stealing another glance at her pussy. She’s so pink and swollen after taking him so well. ‘Yeah, he’ll probably be here soon.’
And he can’t know that Chris fucked his sister. It’s the one thing you’re not supposed to do, and Chris did it. He looks at Jisu’s little belly and swallows. Swallows again. He imagines calling her once she’s back on campus, talking her through an orgasm or two. Imagines how Changbin would punch him if he found out, hard and fast; his ears ring. Imagines taking a shower tomorrow morning and leaving the door unlocked. Again. Just in case.
Who knows what would happen.