An Unexpected Visitor

As with every morning, /fa/'s alarm goes off, A$AP Rocky's "Peso" putting the whole block on freeze as it blares from his surround sound stereo system. Outside the window, /x/ is frantically pounding the pavement, who, prior to his rude awakening, was probably sleeping under his AC unit to avoid some spooky scary skeleton he read about in the nightly creepypasta thread.

After slapping his rose gold iPhone 6 Plus for the ninth time, /fa/ stares groggily around his room.

Taped to the wall are posters of high fashion icons: Rick Owens, Yohji Yamamoto, Raf Simons, and Casemods. The shelf below lies some memorabilia: a pair of Sruli Recht Sharkskin Gloves, Geobaskets, an Ovate Hoodie, and a Number (N)ine round brim priest hat. All that's left is a small desk to the side, a Macbook on top, with last night's WAYWT thread still on screen, a dim glow in the otherwise unlit room. Everything else is shoved into the closet, dakimakuras and all, leaving the room bare except for the twin bed on the other side. Too much clutter isn't effay, after all.

After taking a shower, a quick once-over in the mirror reveals the stats: Hitler Youth, check. Jawline, check. Eye bags, check.

Downstairs, breakfast is in order, as suggested by /ck/: a single poached egg and a slice of toasted whole wheat bread, with a cup of black coffee and half a pack of Lucky Strikes. Filling.

The next house over, /r9k/ can be seen mowing his lawn, and while there doesn't seem to be anyone around to make him do so, he blushes and looks down, the spaghetti already tipping out of his Everest fanny pack, meatballs aplenty. When he attempts to regain his composure, he lets go of the lawnmower --to re-adjust his fedora of course-- and it careens out into the street, nearly taking out /n/ on his new Bianchi fixed gear bicycle, and /an/ walking her giant samoyed as it goes rolling down the road. Ashamed, /r9k/ chases after it while muttering apologies, leaving in his wake a trail of noodles cooked al dente, covered in his mom's homemade meat sauce.

Soon after, knocks are heard at the door.

"Onii-chan, are you hoooooome~?"

And there's the culprit. /fa/ shouts back.

"No weebs allowed! You can read English, right? Or did you fully convert to strictly moonrunes?"

Without responding, the lock in the door clicks. A key? Before /fa/ can get there, it swings open, and there stands /cgl/, wearing a simple sun dress, which is actually normal... Surprisingly enough. Behind her is a large rolling suitcase, seemingly about to burst open if you so much as even touched it.

"What th-- You aren't moving in, are you? And how did you get my key?"

"Mom and Dad went overseas for business, and so I'm going to be staying with you for a while!"

A groan.

"Also, I have to talk to you about something."

/fa/ drops his tsuntsun facade for a bit.

"Wait, don't tell me that /fat/ meathead /fit/'s been hitting on you again."

"No, nothing like that, but--"

From across the street comes a loud grunt, followed by something big and heavy dropping.

"Well come on, get in before that swollen brute finds out you're here."

Upstairs, /cgl/ makes a comment about the bleakness and lack of color of the room as with every visit, and a snide remark about how the sheer amount of stuffed animals in /cgl/'s room would signify she'd never get a boyfriend, much less get past first base comes from /fa/. They both take a seat on the bed. /fa/ starts.

"Well, out with it. What did you come here for?

"You saw the threads, right? We're going to the ball together, and I thought we could make matching coords!"

Confused, /fa/ looks at /cgl/, then the suitcase, then his computer.

"Wait, what?"

/cgl/ stands.

"Coords", she says, tiptoeing. "You know, like matching 'fits'?"

At these words, she leans over and opens the suitcase, and a bunch of frilly dresses fly out, along with a bunch of shorts and vest looking things that look like something a kid attending a bizarro English boarding school would wear. Realization sinks in for /fa/.

"No. No no no. You are NOT making me wear that.

"Come ooooon nii-chan, we'd be so cute together! An ouji coord would really suit you!"

"Absolutely not. I have standards! Do you realize what would happen if I showed up to the ball in..."

/fa/ eyes the tiny top hat at the bottom of the suitcase.

"In that?"

/cgl/ smirks.

"Yes, because everyone would be sooo disappointed in you for not showing up in your best Tricky Ricky outfit, 'tbh smh fam'."

Without another word, /fa/ makes for the door, but is shocked to find that the door is locked. Because he isn't /fit/, he doesn't have enough points in STR to open the it. That's why he leaves all the doors in his house locked, minus the front. Behind him, /cgl/ smiles mischieviously, and without saying anything either, hops toward /fa/ and wraps her arms around him from behind. The heat of her body clashes with the frost that surrounds /fa/'s heart. He shudders.

"You... Let go. Right now."

/cgl/ breathes onto his neck, and hugs tighter.

"Onii-channn, you don't have to be so shy~"

Her body feels so warm, and it's not the kind of warm you get when you hug another dude over your excitement that the Geobaskets from Taobao do not look fake at all, quite the opposite. This, combined with the fact that /cgl/'s somewhat small and soft breasts pushing up against his back are taking its toll on /fa/. He isn't used to girls, not like this. Fed up with the teasing, he struggles with all his might, and manages to break free, the J-shaped seam on his Void the Brand shirt now somehow straight. /cgl/ puffs her cheeks.

"Hmph, if you don't wanna wear it, then I'll just have to make you!"

She makes a grab for /fa/ again, but he skillfully dodges out and away, coming around behind her. Thankfully, he's got some points in DEX, like the scummy katana user he is. However, as fast as she attacked, /cgl/ turns around and makes a dash for /fa/ again. Startled at her surprising quickness when not dressed up as Kuroneko, he instinctively jumps back. Little does he know, that his vagina flap Rick dunks are at the bottom of his bed, which he ends up falling over. /cgl/ can't stop her momentum either, and lands on top of him.

At this point. /fa/ does not have the required STR level to lift this object. From the way they landed, /cgl/ is now firmly seated atop /fa/'s waist. She doesn't move immediately. Aware of this development, /fa/ swallows. /cgl/ leans over to whisper something, so close that their chests touch. Upon closer inspection, she's actually pretty cute. You can see why those nerds always try to hit on her at conventions. She even smells like cherries. Juicy ones.

"Onii-chan, we shouldn't be doing something like this..."

/fa/'s waxed HY isn't the only thing standing up.

"/cgl-tan, I..."

Before he can continue, /cgl/ leans in closer. She could almost kiss him.

"Can we..."

Not even after those words, /fa/ speaks with her, reluctantly agreeing before the last words are spoken. Unfortunately for him, those words aren't exactly what he wants to hear.

"...wear matching coords to the ball?"

Because he accepted without letting her finish, they both knew who had come out the victor here. Giddy, /cgl/ gives him a peck on the forehead, and springs up, clearly unable to contain her excitement.

"Yay! me and nii-chan, matching at the ball~"

And with this, she begins going on and on about what would look the cutest for the two of you. Everything begins to fade out for /fa/, tuning out all sensory information until one thing remains in his mind.

He's gonna have to look like a cuck at the ball.

Fam will definitely be disappointed.

T H E E N D
H
E

E
N
D