AN: I forgot to mention before—I LOVE REVIEWS! Good or bad, all are accepted, encouraged, and appreciated ^_^.. Please leave one if you have the time, folks ;D

1. Not Yet a Man

"If I told you once, you little whore, I told you a thousand times!" Panty flung her plastic dinner bowl to the ground, as if it would shatter. Its contents spattered in clumps across the hardwood. "I don't want fucking miso-soup for lunch!"

Stocking's fists trembled ever so slightly as some of the soup splashed onto her skirt. She kept her head down, bangs over her big blue eyes. "Maybe if you would come to the grocery store with me, I would pick out things you liked."

Her hands were fiddling around behind her, searching for Chuck, so she could pound Panty's head in with him. Panty herself was already strutting away, however, back to her sister. "Honestly," she said, her tone lofty and dismissive. "You're a half-assed cook anyway. Why do you even bother?"

Panty stumbled forward a few feet when something cracked against the back of her head. Stocking found Chuck. The blonde swiveled with a growl, eyes slit.

"You're just sore because you can't cook at all. The only thing you're good at is fucking."

Panty could only glare; Stocking glared back. It was a grey afternoon on a Tuesday—a typical December day in Daten City. The air was so crisp you could break in half and dip it in coffee, and the clouds were heavy with a possible snow. There was a wind with no whistle that would occasionally rattle the church windows; it was deeply cold, but not wet outside. The whole world seemed mute when the sisters took a moment to stop quarrelling. Somehow, in light of the coming Christmas and cold weather, Panty just scoffed.

"Whatever," she said, wandering into the living room area. She kept her hands laced behind her head, walking with that airy, model mentality she always did. "You have a terrible sense of taste, so I guess you can't help it."

That's when she heard a knock at the door. Panty's eyes flicked to the window, noting what must have been a freezing temperature. The inside of the church was toasty warm, so Panty was wearing only a bra and underwear, both of black and red lace.

"Ugh," she groaned, leaning on the door. Her voice was lazy. "Who's there?"

"P-P-P-Pantyyyyyy!"

Panty rolled her eyes skyward. Anyone could guess who that was. "Brief," she said, glancing over at Stocking as she peeked into from the doorway. "What do you want?"

There was a moment of silence, and then a soft, shaky breath. An inhale. "C-C-C-Could you p-p-please let m-me ins-s-s-side?" Panty couldn't decide if he was stuttering because he always stuttered, or because he was cold. "It's f-f-f-freezing out h-h-h…" He paused, to steady himself. "Here!" Then he made one of those, "uwaaa!" noises he loves to make.

Panty and Stocking met eyes, and then both of them grinned. This was the boy who followed them everywhere, ran after their car when they left him behind, tried to buy Panty's underwear online and even went so far as to collect her boogers. He was gullible, and incredibly devoted—almost pathetically so. Fun at his expense was cheap, dirty and had replay value—just how Panty liked it. And no matter how far the pushed him, he always crawled back. A never-ending cycle of entertainment.

The blonde stretched her back against the door, arms above her head as she made a contented noise at the back of her throat. "How long have you been out there, ne?" Stocking joined her, bringing along a cup of vanilla pudding. She took it spoonful by spoonful, cooing at the taste of each one.

"N-N-Not that l-long," he said, voice muffled beyond the door. He was always patient and tolerant of her, but his tone was strained. He wanted to come inside. "P-P-Please, P-Panty.. I-It's cold."

"Don't you wear a coat?" Stocking asked around a mouthful of sweets. "Or do you only wear that stupid jumpsuit?"

"Oh, yeah!" Panty said, starting to giggle. Her red nails found her lips, resting there as she shook a bit from laughter. "That damn ugly thing! Does it keep your member warm, geek boy?"

Brief made another signature noise. "Awwuaa~! P-P-Pantyyy!" She heard him shudder. "Don't ask things l-l-like that-!"

It was Panty's turn to sigh as she turned away from the door. "You see? This is why we only fucked once, Brief," she said with a wave of her hand, as if shooing him from the premises. "You may have a penis the size of a stove pipe, but you're no man."

Stocking listened to Brief as he pleaded with Panty, he having noticed that her voice was fading, that she was walking away. Through his stuttering, he mentioned something about gifts, but it fell on deaf ears. After Panty's door slammed into its jam, Stocking padded away into the kitchen, leaving Brief stuck on the porch.

Outside, Brief held tight to himself, his bag of dried jalapeño peppers, his box of chocolates, and his bouquet. His knees rattled together as he stood pigeon-toed, hunched against the cold. His jumpsuit would have been toasty-warm on a day like this, but he hadn't worn it. Instead, he wore the "coolest" set of clothes he had: a faded pair of jeans with holes at the knees, and a T-shirt two sizes too small with the words "Come Quick!" on it. He also wore a baseball cap with a wide brim pulled down over his eyes, to hide his new haircut, which he didn't like. While dressing, Brief had gotten so flushed while thinking about Panty's reaction to his hair (and Panty's last reaction to his face, two years ago) that he had burned up when wearing a coat. So he left it at home. The first few minutes outside weren't so bad, but as he got less agitated, the goose bumps appeared. Before long, he was shuddering so much he could hardly form a sentence.

As a chilly wind fluttered against the back of his neck, Brief snapped forward with a sneeze. He managed to keep himself from spraying the presents, but didn't have a spare hand to wipe his nose. He sniffled once, then twice for good measure.

"P-P-P-Panty-! St-t-tocking-!" He kicked at the door with his beat-up tennis shoe. "Open up-p!" He was going to say more, but the cold took his breath away. He made a shaky noise, sounding much like he did when he was at the mercy of a clothes-less Panty. "I h-h-h-have p-presents!"

Brief hoped it would draw their attention, but he heard no noise from inside. Honestly, how could they treat him like this? After two years, following them around, practically worshipping them and they still leave him standing outside like an idiot? He thought he would have earned their respect or something, by now. Apparently not.

"G-… G-…. Girls-!" He stood as straight as his body aloud, since he was losing heat faster by staying open. His voice cracked, and he coughed once or twice. His voice had started changing last month, and it still fluctuated between his scratchy kid voice and his developing deeper tone. Perhaps due to the seriousness of the moment, it dropped an octave. "L-Let me in!"

Stocking paused as she munched on a forkful of cake. She had been walking out of the kitchen, back to her room, when she heard the voice. Could it be?... No, of course not. Geek Boy was just a little pest, a kid. Tossing her dark hair across a shoulder, huddled in her fuzzy socks and house-robe, she listened again.

"I s-s-s-said," the voice repeated, shaking but stern. "I w-w-want to c-come in!" It cracked on the fourth word, shooting up in pitch to the falsetto she knew so well. Starting to frown, Stocking walked, then power-walked for the door and yanked it open. Her plate of cake clattered to the floor.

"B-B-…" She stepped back from him, searching his face. "Geek Boy?"

AN: Uwaaaaa~! I wish a bishie Brief were real x3.. Please, excuse my hapless fangirling xD. Oh, and if any of them are OOC (within reason, since this fic is kind of in the future a bit) mind giving me some advice? ;)