Home from the nightclub [M/F] [inc]

*Not inspired by a true story. :)*

“I’m so ugly.”

Min-ho looked up from his book where he was reading on the couch when Hyeon-jeong walked in after a night out with friends. She was back earlier than expected; it wasn’t quite midnight yet and he hadn’t expected her back before 2am at the earliest…and expected her a *lot* less drunk than she was right now.

“What do you mean?” he asked her, putting his book on the table in front of him. “What happened?”

Weaving over to the couch, she collapsed beside him and slurred to him the whole story; how she and her friends went to the nightclub, how her friends – but not her – soon found men interested in them, how her friends – but not her – were soon having drinks bought for them and dancing, how her friends – but not her – soon found themselves leaving with their new dates and leaving her alone at the table, with no one but ever Increasingly alcoholic drinks for company. Min-ho was surprised she even made it home in the state she was in.

“I’m so ugly!” she repeated, louder. He shushed her. Their parents may have been asleep and two floors up but he didn’t want her to wake them and have them come down to see her in the boozy state she was in. That would not be a fun time, to say the least.

“No, you’re not,” he told her, and it was even true. Granted, she wasn’t pretty, or even cute; she was about as plain as a bowl of white rice, had less dress sense than a paper bag and wore makeup like she hated clowns. But she wasn’t *ugly*, not by any stretch.

“I am! I am!” she wailed, slumping against the back of the couch. “This *always* happens!”

He shushed her again, but he felt she had a point. This wasn’t the first time she’d come home alone, nor even the twentieth. He looked at her critically….no, she *wasn’t* ugly. But he had to admit that the glasses she wore and the clothes she chose – not to mention the heavy makeup – for these nights out didn’t help. Maybe he could tell her that…tomorrow. She was in no shape to hear it right now.

“C’mon,” he said, helping her to her feet. “You need some sleep. Let me get you to your room.”

“I’m ugly, I’m ugly,” she sang as he helped her weave her way up the stairs and towards her room. “I’m ugly….hey, where are we going?”

“I’m taking you to your room,” he told her. “You know…bed, sleep, tomorrow coffee?”

“No!” she said, stopping in place. “I need a shower. I’m not going to sleep without one.”

“You’re in no shape to shower,” he told her. “You can barely stand without help.”

“Don’t care, don’t care,” she sang, swaying in place. “Not going to sleep without one.”

“Shh!” he hissed, flapping his hands in a quiet-down-or-else gesture. “You’re gonna wake up mom and dad, and when they see you like this you’re going to get in *so* much trouble!”

“Don’t care, don’t care!” she sang, louder still. “Gotta wash the *stink* of that place, and those stupid, *stupid* guys off my clothes, my hair, my nose, right there,” and she pointed two centimetres to one side of it. “Need to shower, need to scour…”

“All right, yeah, all right,” he hissed more urgently still. “C’mere.” He guided her into the washroom, and sat her on the plastic stool by the drain. “Stay here. I’ll get your pyjamas.”

“OK,” she said, closed her eyes and leaned against the tiled wall. He closed the door and went down to her room. Gathering up a towel, clean pair of pyjamas and underwear, he returned to the washroom to the sound of running water. *Fine,* he thought, *I’ll just leave this outside the door so…oh, and the door is still open. And she turned on the shower.* And *she’s still dressed. Great. Just great.* He pushed open the door, placed her pyjamas on the shelf, and helped her up off the stool where she had sat back down on after turning on the water.

“Jeez, Hyeon. Just *how much* did you have to drink tonight? You couldn’t get undressed, or even close the door?”

“Sorry,” she said happily. “*Too* much, and no. Here, you can leave me now…I can do this on my own!” Owlishly, she tried to pull her arm out of her sweater, but a combination of the wet wool, the shirt underneath, and her inability to stand up straight sent her back down to the stool. Luckily, Min-ho was there to grab onto her and make the collapse a gentle one. Unluckily, the stool was still under the stream of water so she was getting wetter by the second.

She was still struggling to take off her sweater, so in the interest of getting her out of the washroom and into bed without waking up their parents, he knelt down and helped her remove it. By now he was also pretty wet, but what the heck? He’d be out and changed in a minute or so. When she also struggled to remove her shirt, he pulled it over her head, leaving her in her bra. He took off her socks, and was able to help her roll her jeans down, leaving her on the stool in her bra and underwear.

“You going to be OK to finish up here?” he asked her, straightening up. She nodded, then stood. A look of panic came over her face. Sitting again, quickly, she leaned over and grabbed onto his pyjama pants to steady herself. “Just a second,” she murmured. “Dizzy.” Using the cloth sides of his pyjamas like a ladder for support she slowly got to her feet, then just as quickly sat back down, inadvertently pulling his pyjamas down around his shins. Then, before he had a chance to extract his pyjamas from her bunched fists she leaned over and threw up inside the waistband. A second burst of vomit went down all over her front.

“Oh, no!” she slurred. “I’m…I’m sorry.” She let go of his pants but there was no way he was going to pull them up now. *I’ll rinse them off and get back to my room.* he thought. She splashed some water into his pyjama bottoms, then when that failed to do much struggled with the clasp of her vomit-stained bra, but couldn’t get it undone. She started to cry. “I’m sorry.”

**sigh** *Why me?* he thought to himself. “Just leave it alone,” he told her, and as carefully as he could, he stepped out of his own vomit-filled pyjamas and rinsed them off roughly in the stream of water. Seeing she was having no further luck removing her bra, he helped her unclasp it, then – in an effort to get this over with – rolled down the tops of her panties so she could struggle out of the wet, stained cloth. Then she sat, naked, on the stool and let the stream of water from the shower head wash over her.

He took the shower head off its holder, and quickly rinsed his crying sister off. “Close your eyes,” he told her, wet her hair, and handed her the shower head to hold while he lathered up her head, then took back the shower head and started rinsing the shampoo out.

“You know,” she said looking up at him while the soap ran down her back, “you’re the nicest brother ever to me. No other guy would even *look* at me, never mind wash puke off of me. Did you know,” she said, waving at his penis, “that this is even the first time I’ve ever seen a guy’s…thing? In real life? And it took me puking on his pants to do it?” She laughed to herself. “Is that what it takes?” She peered owlishly at it. “It’s a lot smaller than it is in pictures. And looks a lot softer, too. Is that normal?” She flicked it and he, his hands full of hair and the shower head, was caught unaware. “Smaller, softer, like a snail….” she flicked it again and again, “like a snail, like a snail…..oh! Here’s his head?” she said, as despite him moving his hips away he started to get erect. “Yeah! Here he is coming out of his shell!” she sang happily. “That’s what it’s supposed to look like. Hey, do you think *he* likes me? Hey, snail!” She turned to look Min-ho straight in the waist, and spread her knees apart. “Do *you* like me? Oh, look!” she laughed as he got more erect, “he does!”

“Stop that!” he hissed, working fast to rinse the last of the shampoo out of her hair, and trying hard not to look down. It was hard not to; he had to look in that direction to rinse the soap off. Really, he thought to himself, she really *wasn’t* ugly. Nice figure, nice breasts, a bit of a tumbleweed just above her honeypot but what did that matter? And there between her legs…

He tore his gaze away from there and finished rinsing her hair. She flicked his penis again. “Quit it!” he told her again, and she laughed.

“Look how big that snail is now,” she said, shaking her head. “The only one who ever liked me, and it’s this guy.” She leaned back against the wall, spread her knees and placed the soles of her feet against the tiled floor. Then she spread herself so Min-ho could see all of her. “Here, snail. Take a look, at my lady book, my lady raaaaiiiinnbooowww….”

“*You*…are drunk,” he told her.

“*Yes*…I am,” she agreed. She closed her legs and crossed her arms on her knees. “I’m also clean now? I am. Where’s the towel?” He handed her the towel, and she dried herself off…her hair, her chest, then between her legs. She then handed the towel to him. “Here. You can dry off the snail with this,” she said, gathered up her pyjamas, and carefully left the bathroom for her bedroom.

He looked at the towel in his hands, then slowly brought it up to his face and breathed in. Sure enough, it smelled like her shampoo…and surprisingly strongly of *her*, down there. he looked down at himself, still erect. “Well, snail? Time to dry off?” He did the best he could with the towel as it was, then gathered up the wet clothing and tossed it in the basket by the door. Then he wrapped the towel around his waist and left the bathroom, turning off the light as he did. He looked speculatively at the closed door of her bedroom, then went into his own room beside hers, crawled into bed, and did his best to put the sight between her legs firmly out of his mind.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/qpo9qg/home_from_the_nightclub_mf_inc