Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Oh, thank you plat_stars for the $1k!” That was something Kakyoin didn’t expect to repeat so many times in a year, and it was only the 11th of February.

He’d been streaming for a year and two months, or maybe a little more, under the name h.green. It started as something to tide him over during his Christmas break, mostly friends from school watching him as they hurled jokes around. But after picking up a game he thought was obscure, he found out he was first to play the game on his platform. He also became the one to popularize it, all because of a few clips of him losing his mind growing viral.

It was all unexpected, but he appreciated the newfound popularity. Even then, it was hard for him to comprehend it all, never being the type to appreciate the limelight. He kept going on as he did, though this time with a few friends of his turning into mods. His fanbase’s growth was fast, and a few months later, he was at the top of his game; it would stay that way for a long while.

Along with this fame were more fans, friends, and fans-turned-mods. As much as he put himself down, he was a friendlier face amongst his peers. He was interactive with his audience, not caring for a missed kill or accidental hit when he read over the chat. He wasn’t sure if it was that or his stupid little jokes that gained him further fame.

Then, as soon as the New Year hit, a new viewer became a meme to his viewers and a conundrum to him: plat_stars.

Kakyoin knew a lot of the people watching were devoted to him, watching every hour of his streams, and as much as it weirded him out—he was still some 18-year-old—he at least appreciated them. While odd when he thought back on it, two of his friends were people who gave him a little over a hundred dollars a while back. But whoever this was, was different and a lot richer.

The first donation still ran clear in his mind, sounds and all. He took a break from playing a dress-up game that the chat forced him to play. Taking off his headphones, he wrapped them around his neck as he glanced over the chat. The faint sounds of a knock-off pop song continued to play in the game while he sipped on his bottled milk tea, reading over a few messages he saw. Everyone kept pestering him about his abandoned Animal Crossing island, and he would comment on it later. A person also asked about his set-up, to which he tilted his camera around to show off how he’d covered everything in cherry patterns, from his keyboard to his mouse; as much as it was just something he found cute, the fruit became synonymous with him.

The loud ding of a bigger donation played from his headphones, sudden and catching him off guard. He turned back towards the screen with the game before whipping his head back to the one with the chat, still getting used to having double monitors. He grinned and was ready to utter a silly thanks, only to pause and gawk. Off to the side, he saw the chat go wild.

plat_stars donated $1,000! What the actual fuck! The prompt only appeared for donations over $100. Maybe Kakyoin should start up another tier.

He fell back into his seat, slumping into it out of his shock while a large grin spread on his face, pushing himself away from the camera. “Who the hell are you?” he asked, still picked up by his mic despite his widening distance from it. Soon, he pulled himself up, tugging his shirt down as the prompt disappeared from his sights. Even then, his excitement didn’t die down.

“Um, who was it? Plat_stars?” Kakyoin slipped his headphones back on, rolling his chair closer to his desk once again. He took a glimpse at the chat which confirmed his question. “Right. Okay, uh, thank you for the donation. Have I ever gotten anything that big? God, no, I haven’t.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his affectionately nicknamed hair noodle bouncing with the motion. It took him a lot of rambling to get over the donation, but he brought it up again in the other hours of the stream. This was a big donation; he knew he should have made a big deal of it all.

Then it happened again the next day, and he had as big of a reaction as the first. And it happened again. And again. And again. It got a little old.

The shock of it all died down within two weeks, and the donation ended up as just another donation amongst $1 ones. Instead of saying his thanks each time, he took the chat’s advice: at all times, his blank green screen had plat_stars on it in bright pink comic sans, contrasting against each game he played. While some asked him to take it down and he considered doing so, that’s when he realized how much all that money was. On the 27th day of the madness, he thought back on what he spent the money on while building a giant cake statue in Minecraft.

It sunk in how important each donation was, aiding in every single way he could think of. He paid for a few medical checkups he put off, gifts his friends never expected he felt they deserved, and even some debts his parents had. He made adequate money prior to this stranger’s kindness, but everything this person gave pushed him further into a spot of financial comfort he never thought he’d ever be in.

With that in mind, Kakyoin took his time to thank whoever it was every week with earnest speeches about how much he appreciated it all. His chat would spam the word ‘gay’, and he’d laugh and say, “I know.” Except he didn’t, but that wasn’t important.

From there, we return to now, with Kakyoin just having finished a stream. He pulled his headphones off after shutting his PC down, getting up from his seat with a sigh. It was a long stream, one where he was on the verge of screaming. Remind him to never play any rhythm games on the hardest mode anymore.

Each step he took away from his set-up took away more of his boisterous Internet personality; it was all a ruse when he thought about it, knowing in himself he had been a silent type over the years. The camera gave him confidence, regardless of whether he wanted to admit it.

Walking around the green screen to the rest of his room, he sighed as he looked around. His shiny, new gaming corner was the only pleasant thing there. Everything else in his room was old, all secondhand furniture from before he was even born: a shabby mattress with shabbier sheets; a dingy closet he forced himself to keep clean inside; a desk he once used for school that now collected dust; to say he needed a room renovation was an understatement. Maybe he’d ask his mother about it.

Then his mind returned to plat_stars. How much had he donated? He took a moment to count down the days since it all began, and he had to puzzle over January having 30 or 31 days. “That’s—right, and then you add—oh.”

41 days. $41k worth coming his way, only because he enjoyed watching him play video games. While his audience loved to condense the stranger to just another ‘simp’ or obsessive creep, it didn’t feel that way to Kakyoin. No, there were never any attached messages to the donations, nor any attempts to get in contact with him. It was strange, but all the money that came in was legitimate, so he couldn’t complain.

Contemplating this all, he threw himself on his bed, reaching for his phone plugged into the wall. He always wondered who plat_stars was from the beginning, but it strengthened the longer he let all this money flow in. He scrolled through Twitter, liking random posts until a thought struck his mind.

Maybe it was time to find out who the hell it was.

He was quick to type, not thinking twice about his wording. Soon, he’d end up with a tweet that read like this: ok, so i thought about it and i honest to god just want to find out who plat_stars is?? If you’re out there drop me a dm, screenshot proof of the money. i legit wanna start talking to whoever it is lol.

He looked over it and thought something felt off. He hummed before attaching an image of a cat meme he saved a while back. Yeah, that felt a lot better. Rolling over onto his side, he tweeted it out for the world to see and was ready for the barrage of joke replies and messages he’d receive.

And they all came in full swing, but he was in no place to complain. He sighed and looked over some replies to his post: a few ‘good luck’s amongst an ocean of memes and fancams. Maybe he’d nap on it, at least after checking whatever DM requests he received within minutes. Unsurprisingly, it was a lot, much more than he’d received any other day.

He scrolled past messages, all saying something among the lines of, “It’s me!” Though he had serious doubts, checking a few of the accounts and not seeing anyone he thought was a contender, nor any actual proof in the messages. At least one person sent a picture of their cat, with which he replied a quick thanks.

Was Kakyoin losing hope scrolling through? Yes, and it showed as he yawned, his eyes coming to a near close with his sleepiness. The more that he thought about it, this was a useless endeavor, especially with the lack of planning on his end. He grumbled and had his finger on his phone’s lock button, ready to get some rest. Then, his eyes met with a message that differed from the rest, appearing as he was ready to turn off his phone.

Someone with the display name jojo, the username ‘star_plats’, no profile picture. Underneath all this information was a message that shared his post and said, i was waiting for this lol. He squinted before pressing on the message, not sure what he was expecting to see. Instead, he only saw an indication of typing, and he waited in silence. He still had his genuine doubts about this person,

w8 my paypal won’t work, Jojo replied.

Kakyoin blinked, not sure if he wanted to wait, but he was already awake. ok take ur time, he said, staring at the screen and their three messages. He was expecting an unrelated or random image to come into his messages, and he sighed. It’ll be good to screenshot at least, he thought to himself as he waited with low expectations.

And waited.

And waited.

And an image came in, taking a long while to load despite the speedy Internet in the house.

Kakyoin grumbled as he rolled over onto his stomach, held up by his forearms as the picture loaded inch by inch as the person sent more. It was like a slow reveal in a musical, a curtain pulling up to reveal what was to come; except this time it was a loading image, inching downwards to show off what he needed.

At that point, too tired out from his stream, his internal overwhelming shock translated into a few blinks at the screenshots of PayPal transactions. Kakyoin Noriaki, Payment Received. $1,000 in each row. All the dates lined up too, all coming one after the other, becoming more impressive with the visualization of it all. He knew it could all be edited easily, but he doubted anyone could have done all this work in five minutes.

u know what. He sent that after looking over every detail again, sure of its legitimacy but used to being extra cautious.

what?? The reply was immediate, making Kakyoin chuckle.

i believe u. tthank you jojo.

you don’t need to thank me. your streams are nice

im superthankful for all your donations, u know! but do u not want anything for it?? its kind of a lot dude lol.

i don’t really want anything though.

how abt we talk for a bit?? Kakyoin wasn't sure how the other would respond to the suggestion, but he felt it was adequate. He wouldn't force Jojo into anything, anyway.

A pause, a rather lengthy one. This Jojo person took longer to type this time, at least a minute, though the reply Kakyoin received had him cackle: ok.

Their few messages sent were the start of something special, though neither were aware.

Chapter Text

Kakyoin enjoyed his brief conversation with Jojo, even if it was just him asking his mystery person a few questions. With those, he garnered a few facts about them: they were 18, far from tech-savvy as they only made Twitter two weeks before, and loved to play instruments. Specifics? They didn’t give any. The latter two were interesting facts, though that was about it. After finding these out, he was prompt to fall asleep.

He grumbled as soon as he woke up, picking up his phone after patting around on his nightstand. He checked the time, seeing the usual 9 AM he saw as soon as he awoke. It was a Sunday—what he considered a break since he only streamed for an hour at most—and he always made the most of it; well, at least in the latter half. For now, he looked through his Twitter for whatever memes popped up on his timeline.

“Man,” he said to himself, rubbing at his eyes after not finding much of value, then slipping back to his DMs. He replied to a few from close friends, some with an attachment of horrid images. Then, before he got up to go downstairs for breakfast, he stared at one unopened message from the night before.

jojo @star_plats
ok, rest up. night.

Kakyoin’s finger hovered over it, thinking of a few ways he could go about it, all of which he wasn’t too sure about. He could leave Jojo on read, but that sounded too cruel. He could react to the message and leave it at that, but that had him sounding unthankful for all they gave him. Maybe he should reply? No, it was too early; his brain was still finding its functioning state. Maybe-

He put a pause on all his thoughts. He should draw.

Pushing himself off of the bed, he tripped over his own slippers and dropped onto his knees. He grunted at the impact, his entire body tensing before he stood to make way towards his desk, teeth clenched. “Motherfucker.” He couldn’t help but swear, knowing the bruises it would leave, though he couldn’t do a thing about it.

He pulled his chair back, still as creaky as the first time he used it in first grade. Puffing up his cheeks, a random habit he picked up while searching around, he found his iPad underneath stacks of paper his mother asked him to keep. Unsure of why he even accepted them, he nudged the stack to the side as he turned the tablet on, relieved to see its battery didn’t drain too much.

While he’d play a podcast or playlist while doodling, an idea popped into his mind; he thought it would be a good time to check on his Discord. Scrolling through the tons of apps he never sorted, he found the app, going straight to the server he shared with his mods.

There was some chit chat from earlier, all when he was asleep, from those in other countries. He glanced at the sidebar and found himself surprised; he expected everyone to be offline by then but saw two people online: Polnareff and Avdol, nicknamed in the chat as funky swords and gay fireman, respectively. Looking off to the side, he realized the pair was voice chatting.

He couldn’t help quirk up an eyebrow as he wanted to join them, not used to seeing both of them online at the same time. He never liked to talk when he was groggy, but anything Polnareff or Avdol talked about piqued his interest. Maybe he’d listen in.

For a moment, he had to look through all the drawers on his desk before pulling out a pair of knockoff Bluetooth earphones that worked well, along with his Apple Pencil he wasn’t proud of splurging on. Pushing the earphone case open with his thumb, he slipped each into his ear before joining the call.

“—ling you, I can’t cook!” Avdol said, a near cry as he uttered the phrase for the umpteenth time, his deep voice booming into Kakyoin’s ears.

Polnareff scoffed, his eye-rolling was audible with his tone. “Come on, you post all those salmon pictures on your story and—” For a moment, the Frenchman interrupted his own heavily accented rambling. There was silence. “Oh, hey, Kak.”

Kakyoin let out a laugh, leaning back in his seat as he opened up an app and began scribbling away on a square canvas. He didn’t know what he was making yet, though filled the whole screen up with green. “Hey, Pol. What’re you and Avdol on about?” There was a sigh, but Kakyoin wasn’t sure who it was.

“He’s trying to tell me I can cook,” Avdol said, less upset than he had been earlier.

“Yeah, you can.” Polnareff’s word sounded like a defeated grumble at that point. Another sigh and Kakyoin was sure it was Avdol this time

“Look, enough about me, let’s get to the cherry boy here,” Avdol said. “How have you been doing? Anything special going on?”

He hummed, raising his stylus off his screen, smiling at the sight of lazily sketched bunnies. Well, they looked like bunnies. “Eh, nothing too much. Just woke up.”

“Aren’t you going to have breakfast?” Polnareff asked.

Kakyoin shrugged as if the pair could see it, scribbling flowers to surround his newly drawn friends, unable to hold back a delighted giggle. “I’ll be fine.” And with that, no one spoke, but he didn’t mind.

He continued to add colors into his mess of a drawing, chewing on his bottom lip the entire time. While he was silent, he could hear some background noise created by the two. From one of them came nails tapping against a desk in a rhythm, and the other the distant barks of a dog. He could only assume they were both busy, but he didn’t mind.

“Oh, hey,” Avdol said, cutting through the silence mere seconds later. “Polnareff and I have been coming up with some theories about your plat_stars guy. Your tweet last night had us thinking.”

Before any conspiracy theories could grace his ears, Kakyoin interrupted the pair with a snort. “Yeah, about that,” he began, hearing gasps in response.

“Do you know who he is?” the pair asked, synced so close that they laughed out loud. Kakyoin couldn’t help but chuckle along, waiting for the two to calm down before he could reply. It took a little while, but he got his word in.

“Uh, some person named Jojo, don’t know if it’s a girl or whatever.” He stopped drawing, pleased with his bunny-filled field with its pastel colors. It was pleasant enough for a quick post, even if it was a mess of lines, and he saved it. “They sent screenshots, looked legit. They’re 18 too.”

As he exited out of the app and opened up Twitter, Polnareff guffawed. “How the hell does an 18-year-old have so much money?”

“I don’t know,” Avdol said, feigning deep thoughts with his tone. “Probably has an OnlyFans.” While he received snickers on both ends, he huffed. “What? I’m serious—ah, shit. Wait.” Then Avdol muted himself.

Kakyoin tried to think of a caption for his doodle. “They said they weren’t a social media type, so I doubt they’re showing their ass on the Internet.” He then scrolled through all the emojis before finding the rabbit emotion, typing in three before posting his tweet.

“Damn, might be some old man,” Polnareff joked.

Rolling his eyes, Kakyoin looked through the immediate replies on his post, liking many without thought nor even reading them. “Gonna be honest, didn’t feel like one.” He took his time to type a quick, fuck u ! ily, to a friend who complimented his art. He was ready to continue doodling, midway through swiping the app's screen away when a notification popped up.

jojo @star_plats
hey i think i know what i want now

Kakyoin didn’t know a message could make him shiver, instilling a sensation that had him squint and crinkle his nose. No, he didn't know what he meant at first, racking his mind for an answer. What did he mean? He pouted and, without thinking, tapped on the notification right before it disappeared. It sent him right to the message, and he froze up as he realized he now had the other left on read. Oh.

“Goddamnit.” He always grumbled to himself, though too soft for his microphone to pick up. Scrolling up, he skimmed through messages from hours before, finding the message that fixed his confusion: his offer for, well, literally anything. He pressed his thumb against his mouth, a light bite down on the tip as he fell deep in thought. Soon, he ended up typing a simple phrase: what lmao, adding a cat emoji to not seem hostile. Then he paused. can i have ur pronouns btw

The sound of someone unmuting his mic. “Hey, what’s going on?” Avdol asked, sounding breathless. “Sorry, chickens were going wild.”

“Oh!” The other’s return caught Kakyoin off guard, eyes wide as he stared down at his iPad. “Uh, Jojo messaged me again.”

“Damn, what’d they say?” Polnareff asked, though Kakyoin found it too hard to talk as he stared at three dots bouncing as Jojo typed. It took a while, though this time it felt like they were saying a lot more. Then it came in.

ok so he/him i am a boy also i don’t know if you’re comfortable with it but i would like to do a discord call. again only if you’re comfortable

Kakyoin didn’t budge for a second or two, causing Avdol and Polnareff to utter obnoxious ‘hello’s into his ear. Okay, so it was a guy. He was pleased that he cleared that up. But a call? His mouth agape and body unmoving, he was clueless. If he were in his gaming chair, he would have pushed it so far back he would lie parallel to the ground.

It’s not that he struggled during calls—his confidence wasn’t that horrid—but the thought of having to call his number one donor was striking. Sure, he’d invite his favorites into a private server, but never one-on-one. No, he always found those irksome, but he also had to consider all the money he’d received.

“Earth to cherry boy!” Polnareff said out loud, snapping Kakyoin out of his daze.

A yelp left Kakyoin’s lips, though he still spoke despite this. “Jojo’s a dude! He wants to call me! Like, voice chatting!” He stumbled over his words, each one sputtered out in a flurry that he could only imagine brought about surprise for the other two. He slapped his forehead, groaning, lucky his microphone barely caught the noise. It was too early for him to get so flustered, and yet there he was.

“Damn, really?” Polnareff asked after processing each word. “I think you should.”

“Yeah, I agree with Pol.” Avdol added to the other with no hesitance.

The nonchalance of the pair made Kakyoin furrow his eyebrows, holding his tablet closer to his face he stared down at Jojo’s unanswered message. “For real?” He already had his fingers over the keyboard, but needed a little more of a push.

Loud typing ended before Avdol began speaking: “I mean, you keep going in streams that you want to know who he is, right? So entertaining would be like a win-win.”

Perhaps he was distracted, but Polnareff jumped in before Kakyoin could respond: “Yeah, what he said.”

“Mm. Okay, sure.” He sighed and nodded, ready to type down his thoughts until the sound of his stomach gurgling rang into his ears, the pangs of hunger following right after. “Uh, you guys mind if I drop the call? Getting hungry. Also, I have to actually work my brain.”

“It’s all good, bye-bye Kak!” Polnareff said. “Okay, Avdol, about your cooking.”

“Bye, Ka—oh my god, Pol shut up—”

Kakyoin dropped the call before returning to Twitter. The message blasted into his face again as he was ready to answer. He took a while, though only because he had no idea how to word it, finding the words after three minutes of silence: i think a discrd call would be cool!! :D. He stared at his message, content with it yet in disdain as well; he only ever talked like that to close friends.

Then, in a blink of an eye, Jojo replied.

cool, let me get my username thing, he replied, rather abrupt when Kakyoin thought about it. Even then, he waited with patience, already calmer than he was earlier. It was one call with one fan; he hadn’t done it before, but he might as well start there. He wanted to swipe away to check his timeline, but he had the username in his sights before he could: jojo#7021.

Gulping, he pressed down onto the text box to copy it.

Chapter Text

Kakyoin added Jojo on Discord; he was thankful his username wasn’t outlandish when he did so. After a brief exchange of greetings, he excused himself to go eat breakfast, and now he pondered what could happen over a sweet bowl of oatmeal.

He had a few speculations of the other’s true identity. Though two stood out, both worrying and viable: either a young teen with their parents’ credit card or a creepy old man. The thought of both made him shudder. To hear a high-pitched voice yelling in excitement or an older stranger wheezing into his ears had him terrified. Considering how his anxieties grew, he shouldn’t have thought of it so much.

“Honey, aren’t you going to eat your food?” The interruption had his head snapped up as he dropped out of his daze. Back in his sights were the clean kitchen, covered in plants of all sorts, all of which watered by his mother: Ann. She was still in her pajamas, typical of her on days without office work.

He swore under his breath despite awareness she had no gripes with cussing. “Sorry, kind of in my head,” he said, poking and prodding at the bowl before him. Then he took a spoonful of his oats, two blueberries sinking into the syrup-covered mush. Taking it into his mouth and humming as the acidity of the berries mixed with the sugary syrup, he remembered why this stayed his favorite breakfast for years. He quickly calmed, then continued to eat.

Ann hummed, glancing back at him as she placed her mini watering can onto the counter, a cool copper against the glinting white of the clean marble. “Finally want to go to college?” she asked: an obvious joke, though he still whined.

“Mom!” Kakyoin shook his head, looking away for a moment, hiding any bit of irritation. Even then, he smiled. Going to college was what his father always wanted for him, accountancy in particular; thus, the man kept bugging him with vehement opposition when he said streaming was making him money. Only after offering to pay off family debts did the questions about his education end. Now, the boy always joked about it with his mother. His father meant well, though it was still funny to the pair.

“Oh, yeah, where’s dad?” She turned to him as he asked that, his cheeks full of oats as he stuffed his mouth with a sizeable spoonful. He hadn't noticed, but a bit of blueberry stained skin off to the side of his lips.

She stepped forward to wipe food off of his face, but he groaned and pushed her away. “Meet-up with those lawyer friends of his, so we might have to push back board games tonight.” She paused. “You look real distracted. Are you busy? I’ll need help with grocery shopping soon.”

With that, they stared into each other’s eyes for uncomfortably long. All Ann could do was stare at Kakyoin as he thought about it. He always put his family's needs first, but the call was something he'd been anticipating to happen for a while. He sighed.

“Can we push it back to later this afternoon? Three? Got a call, important.”

While hesitance crept its way into her face, she nodded after a beat of silence. “Alright, alright. Now let me shut up because you still got a lot of food,” she said with a chuckle, and she returned to tending her flowers. “Good luck on your call, whatever it is.”

He didn’t take much longer to eat his food, and soon he made his way upstairs again.

Kakyoin took fifteen minutes of lying around to get over how full he was, patting at his stomach. His recovery of sorts wasn’t the most pleasant, though it made way for him to fall into a more soothed state. With that, he opened his phone and didn’t waste his time with messaging Jojo.

noodley hair
done eating! :]

jojo
ok, ready when you are

Then Kakyoin noticed two messages in the mod’s chat—sent probably because he came back online—quick to jump onto the server and quicker to read over the messages.

funky swords
HAVE FUN CHERRY BOY LMAO

gay fireman
Pol, don’t be so mean!! lol
You’ll do fine, Kak! Good luck with Jojo. :)

Those were the last messages Avdol and Polnareff left him, certainly encouraging. He went back to his chat with Jojo, pressing the call button. He dropped his phone onto the bed and paced around his room, thankful he cleaned and had the space to do so. He pushed his earphones deeper into his ears while he waited for Jojo to pick up.

Maybe it was his conversation with his mother or nature taking its course, but he felt prepared for this. He wouldn’t panic at all, determined to give whoever this was the best call of their life. Okay, maybe he was overselling himself at this point.

The ringing stopped, and the call began.

He froze in place, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. There was rustling on the other end, blankets and pillows pulled around, the lazy drag of cotton against cotton reminding him of unpleasant mornings. He let out a huff. Was he supposed to speak first?

“Give me a sec, the bed’s a mess,” Jojo said, and Kakyoin couldn’t hold back a gasp. In a matter of moments, thrown out were all the doubts he had. It wasn’t some stupid kid or creepy grandpa like he’d expected. Instead, the voice he heard graced his ears: somewhat rough, though deep, perhaps husky. Like a cup of strong coffee, going down smooth despite the initial hit of bitterness.

Now that he had a voice, he wondered how the other looked. While booming voices had his mind wander off into big, burly men, many people he knew with voices lower in tone were smaller than him in their physique. That was saying something, considering he had a decent body; admittedly, he enjoyed doing the occasional workout. So was it a huge guy, or a sad, scrawny boy? He leaned towards the latter but didn’t let the thought affect him too much. At the end of the day, Jojo was still a person.

It took him a while to recover from his shock, but Kakyoin found his words soon after. “Yeah, no, take your time,” he said, his idea of pacing around now a miscalculation on his end as he glanced around. Then he looked at his gaming chair, not too worn as it was newer. Without another thought after snatching up his phone, he ran towards the seat, dropping into its soft leather with a thump. The other must have heard him.

“Are you okay?” Jojo asked. The rustling of the sheets ended.

“Yeah, I am,” Kakyoin said, a chuckle leaving his lips. “Just didn’t think standing around was, I don’t know, smart.”

A hum, an amused one. “Yeah, I get that.” Then a cough. “Sorry, by the way. I don’t sound like it, but I’m nervous. Super nervous.”

The comment had Kakyoin confused, unsure how the statement could run true with how the other spoke without a slip in his sentences. “Don’t be! I’m just glad that I can talk to the dude that’s been financing me.” He heard a half-suppressed laugh, melodic, contrasting with his own that he often thought sounded like a hyena.

“And I’m glad the person I’m financing is glad.” This time, they both laughed, albeit softly.

Kakyoin swung around in his chair, leaning it back so he stayed relaxed as he sunk into the plush leather. “You’re a real nice guy, Jojo. Is your name actually that, by the way? Kinda been like, on my mind.”

“God, no!”

The pure revulsion with the other’s answer prompted astonishment on Kakyoin’s end. “Oh—”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Jojo was apologetic as he spoke, the soft scratch of a fingernail against skin audible in those moments. “It’s a nickname my family gave me. And trust me, I don’t like it, but it felt safer to use it. My actual name’s too unique. Or at least feels like it.”

“Do you mind telling me it then?” Kakyoin was curious, perhaps the slightest bit desperate after weeks of not knowing a thing. If he also had to be honest, he thought the name Jojo was ridiculous, only because it reminded him of pop culture references he’d rather not think about.

A few noises, caught by the mic despite the intensive filtering the app did: a tongue pop, muttering of indiscernible phrases. Then a mumble, hesitance in the jumble of words.

Not knowing what he heard, unable to discern a thing, Kakyoin leaned forward in his seat, squinting his eyes. “Um, can you repeat that?”

“Oh. Did you not hear it? It’s—” A cough cut him off. “—Jotaro.”

There it was. He finally had a (better sounding) name to his mystery boy, and he couldn’t help but sigh in relief. “Jotaro. Yeah, I like that name, comes off kind of strong. Like your voice.”

“Hm. Strong?” Jotaro sounded a little baffled, but Kakyoin couldn’t blame him.

“Yeah, real deep. I feel puny talking to you.”

“Oh. I get that a lot.” Jotaro hummed. “But puny? I know we sound different to ourselves, but I think you sound good too.”

What did good entail? Kakyoin didn’t know and wasn’t sure if he wanted to, but something about the way Jotaro said it brought about strong warmth in his face, a flush in his cheeks. It was kind, uttered with a sweetness that sounded uncharacteristic for the other, but it could be assumptions with the pitch of his voice. Perhaps he was thinking too hard about it; thankfully, his mind let him change the topic.

“Hey, do you mind if I like, take my time to thank you, Joj—Jotaro? I know I do it in streams, but it’s different telling it to you.” It was a sudden request, and Kakyoin hoped that it wasn’t too odd. Well, it could have been, considering how long Jotaro took to even reply.

“Oh, go ahead. Sorry, Internet blipped.”

Another sigh of relief slipped past Kakyoin’s lips. “It’s okay.” Now he sat up straight, pulling the back of his chair back up with a quick pull of the lever to its side. “Can I start?” He heard the other fiddling with a few things before getting a response.

“Mmhmm.”

With that, Kakyoin was quick to compose himself and his thoughts. He had some things to say he was too scared to in streams. “Well, okay, here’s to you.” He would always say plat_stars, and he was thankful he didn’t say that instead. “I’m thankful for all that you’ve given, right? Like, it's not just me; I got to help friends and family too. Gifts and paying off some, I don't know, important things. Hell, you could have stopped paying twenty days in and everything would be fine. But now here I am and I'm happy. You're kind of a part of lots of people's lives now in some weird way, and I think I like that.”

It was soft, but Kakyoin swore he heard a gasp on the other end. People loved to assume he spent the money on himself—his more hateful messages alone were proof of that—so he didn't mind the surprise. “I’m also always thankful for loyal fans, right? But to know you enjoy my content that much? It means a lot, especially since I kind of grew up feeling unappreciated.”

That came as a surprise too, to the point Jotaro questioned it himself. “Wait, what? Really? You feel like a popular type.”

If he had it in him, Kakyoin would have tossed his head back and let out the loudest laugh he could. He still remembered school in his mind: lighter things such as being chosen last in everything, up to the worst physical threats when he grew older. After his newfound friends that came with fame (and a lot of therapy), he looked back at his past as tragic, but what turned him into the funny man he was today. Well, everyone else called him a funny man.

“No, far from it.” Kakyoin bounced his leg, a light nervousness falling over him with what he admitted. Other than people who went to school with him, who witnessed all his small downfalls, only Jotaro knew about this.

“Damn.” And Jotaro didn’t say another word.

Kakyoin didn’t know what else to say, scratching the back of his neck, chewing on his bottom lip. Was there anything else he could ask? He could ask how the other felt about his streams or a lighter topic about how he was doing. He opened his mouth to ask the latter but grumbled as a notification on Discord interrupted him: a random row of cat emojis from Polnareff. Then it hit him as conversation with the mods from earlier sprang into his mind.

“Hey, how did you make your money, anyway?” Kakyoin asked.

“Part of my weekly allowance.”

“Part?”

“Yeah. I—” The loud slam of a door rang into Kakyoin’s ear, and Jotaro grunted. “Wait, this is important.”

There was a click, an attempt to mute the mic, though that didn’t work. Kakyoin could hear every word Jotaro said: “Mom, I’m busy—what—huh, I thought grandma Suzie and gramps bought the groceries! Oh, fine, I’ll go—love you too!” The door slammed close again, an unpleasant sound.

“I’m sorry for listening in on that,” Kakyoin said, taken aback by the more aggressive tone followed by the sweet, three-letter phrase. He could tell Jotaro meant no harm, though to hear him speak so loudly was different.

“Wait, did you hear that?” Jotaro asked, an expression clear considering how he sputtered it out: eyes wide, mouth agape, pure and utter shock.

“I did, I hope you don’t mind.”

Jotaro sighed. “Eh, my fault I didn’t mute it. But yeah, kind of have to go now.”

“Mmhmm, that’s fine by me. Talk to you soon, okay?”

“I'd be glad to."

Only because he knew the struggle of who was supposed to end the call, he thought to end it himself. His thumb hovered over the little icon to do so, then hesitated as the other spoke for the last time.

“We’ll keep in touch, right? Like this won't sizzle out?” Jotaro asked, not too expectant.

Kakyoin wondered why that was, but shrugged it off. “Of course. You’re a chill guy. Let's call again tomorrow.”

And, like their first time messaging each other, they cut their conversation short.

Chapter Text

Kakyoin wanted to commend Jotaro; there was something that the boy had that he could only dream of: consistency. Along with the money that still came in with each stream, their conversations were daily.

Even then, there was a schedule of sorts: on Mondays to Saturdays were more small talk, always before or after a stream. They would only last for an hour at most because either Kakyoin had to set up his PC or he’s drained after talking so much. Though Sundays were a free-for-all, a complete lack of small talk as they near blasted information into each other’s ears. Though, despite the distinction between the days, the calls would always begin with the same Discord messages:

jojo
are you ready, cherry boy

noodley hair
ready when you are!!

If he were to be honest, it surprised Kakyoin that Jotaro put up with him. He was good in group calls, but always iffy with one-on-ones. He could still remember one moment, a contender for one of the worst between them.

Jotaro finished a long story about a moment in Minecraft, misplaced TNT causing the unwanted demolition of his blocky brick mansion. “So, you got any stories like that?” he asked after what sounded like a lighter click on his end.

And, without a moment wasted, Kakyoin’s body seized up while his thoughts tumbled out as an utterance he barely understood himself: “Uh, I still pee in pools!”

A beat. “What? In Minecraft?”

No, Kakyoin didn’t want to try remembering that exchange; it was too embarrassing to bear, and even if he wanted to, it was all a blur amongst many others. He didn’t count the days but had a rough estimate with how the plat_stars donations kept adding up. $55k now. Two weeks sounded about right.

Though what did they talk about in those two weeks? It always began with greetings, questions about how the day was going, all before devolving into whatever topics came to mind. The most common thing they would talk about was their interests: Jotaro sputtering out about albums he loved while Kakyoin went on about his questionable childhood love for racing games. There were also confessions of secrets, nothing too deep, though some you’d prefer to hide from others.

All the while, Kakyoin distracted his hands: squishing a stuffed toy, hugging a pillow, drawing random sketches. Their conversations he did the third option with were ideal, only because he always drew up their more outlandish ideas; after sending sketches of two Ford trucks getting married, he couldn’t erase Jotaro’s laughter from his mind.

And with that, a return to the present day, a Monday. It was an hour before a stream, Kakyoin sitting at his desk while scribbling away on his tablet. He’d already been drawing for two hours, maybe longer.

“Hey, you know what I’m drawing?” Kakyoin asked, Jotaro having just returned after being called by his mother for unknown reasons. He refused to pry after what he heard the first time.

“Huh? What is it?” Jotaro quirked up, his voice having the same tone a student would when called to answer a question.

Kakyoin chuckled, he couldn’t help it. “I’m drawing what I think you look like.” It was a blatant lie, looking down at what he drew over a white backdrop: a taiko drum facing front, a bright brim surrounding its darker grey center. While the character was drawn with a cutesy face, two dots for eyes, a vertical 3 for a mouth, a black turtleneck now covered the mouth, stretched up with the aid of sleeve clad lumps supposed to be arms.

“Oh? Better be drawing me handsome.”

If he were honest, Kakyoin tried not to lose it at his detailed drawing, putting in too much effort for a reference he barely understood. The only reason he drew it was seeing Jotaro listen to an artist named Taeko Onuki on Spotify, along with liking posts about a taiko drum game on Twitter. Taiko Onuki. Mixing the two up sounded funny in his mind, a stupid pun, but unsure if the other would appreciate it. “Trust me, I’m shading the shit out of this thing. Got some nice angles going on.” Except he didn’t. Everything was exceptionally round.

“God, you’re making me out like I’m some model,” Jotaro said, chuckling. “I’m not all that.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know that,” Kakyoin said, biting down on the tip of his tongue as he considered what he had before him great. It was cute, silly, maybe as mysterious as the woman on the album cover he copied. But would Jotaro enjoy it as he did? He took a moment to save the image before hopping back into Discord. He sent the image, watching as it uploaded. “Sent the drawing.”

A pleased hum came from the other end, a light tapping on what he assumed was a phone screen. “I’m scared that you’ll get the details right.”

“How could I if I’ve never seen you? I’m no spy.” Kakyoin spun in his chair, smiling to himself as he awaited a response. The picture just uploaded. He set his tablet down onto the desk before him, to the side where he kept snacks when he got them, and waited.

There was a moment of silence before cackling came into Kakyoin’s ears, audio glitching with the connection as he only heard every third ‘ha’ of the booming laughter. Thankfully, the words uttered right after were loud and clear: “Holy shit, that’s good. I’ve been thinking of this for forever. Taiko—wow. That is stupid.”

Stupid, a scathing word to Kakyoin, though he couldn’t care less now. “It is! Don’t you think you’re beautiful?”

“I do, I do, but I’ll have to send pictures over for realism.”

And Kakyoin froze. Sending over pictures? It was a joke, he could tell that much, but there might have been a tinge of seriousness there. Maybe he was hopeful, but he wondered if he could push it. “Eh, pictures won’t do it for me,” he said, a feigned disappointment in his voice, one most would assume was real if they never knew him. “What about a video chat?”

He meant it to be a comment in passing, something to shrug off then move on from. The call seemed to pause, the type that brought a chill down a spine in the warmest rooms. Knowing how Jotaro’s wi-fi was—for lack of a better term—wacky, he didn’t worry too, though the want to bother the other boy irked him.

Jotaro asked as if he hadn’t heard of the technology: “A video chat?”

“Yeah, we could do one right now.”

“Damn. I don’t know, I’m looking bad today.”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that!” Kakyoin was aggressive with the reminder, but he was like that with all of his friends. “I’m sure you look fine, okay? But if you don’t want to turn on your webcam or anything, that’s fine.” He heard a few hard taps on a screen.

“What about tomorrow?”

And there it was: what Kakyoin wanted to hear. To think the other may have been willing this whole time came to mind, and he slapped his forehead. “Tomorrow’s fine, yeah. Would after a stream be good? Mom’s bugging me with stuff to do.”

Jotaro laughed. “Talk about a coincidence,” he said, an amused bewilderment audible as he spoke. “Mom wants me to do stuff with her too.”

Kakyoin scoffed. “Okay, mama’s boy!”

“Hey, you are too!”

“Shush!”

“Another plat_stars donation! Let’s go!”

Kakyoin had been hyper for the entire stream, further amplified by the donation. The chat took note of it and he only laughed, shrugging everything off with three words: “I feel great!” He told no one about meeting his now nicknamed ‘sugar simp’, nor that he had a call with him that night. Why would he?

In the end, the chat didn’t grill him too much on his happiness, helping create a better stream experience for everyone. That night he played Pokemon, just to have something mindless to latch onto while he hid his excitement to talk to Jotaro.

Within three, nearing four hours, it was over. He ended the stream but kept the webcam on, hopping onto Discord. Other than more messages in the mod server, a few ones from other friends, he had nothing he had to reply to. He jumped straight to his chat with Jotaro.

noodley hair
im good now!!!
call me when ur good lol don’t have the brain capacity to do other shit

jojo
give me a sec, my grandma’s trying to give me fruit

noodley hair
at like midnight??

jojo
no one in this house sleeps normal
anyway i’m good. sorry i’m eating apples

Kakyoin sat back in his seat, one arm reached forward onto his mouse, waiting for the call prompt to pop up. There, he waited for a second, then two, three, four, then Jotaro’s call came in. He accepted without hesitation and soon saw himself on his computer screen, far from an unfamiliar sight. Giving himself a slow wave, he hummed before his window grew smaller, Jotaro’s appearing beside it, buffering. With a few clicks, he kept Jotaro’s window as the central one.

It took a minute or two to load in, and he braced himself to see the boy. He clutched onto the arms of his seat, not visible as he pulled himself closer to the camera. Oh, God. It loaded—and there was a room and an empty chair. Behind him were white walls, plastered with posters of artists from yesteryear he didn’t recognize, all Japanese. There was also a bed, navy blue sheets folded neatly and pillows propped up. There was a slight blur all around, possibly because of a bad Internet connection.

“Goddamn,” Kakyoin said, adjusting his headset’s mic as he already pushed his big bulky microphone to the side. He didn’t care that the other could hear him, hoping it came off as a passing remark. Apparently, Jotaro heard.

“Give me a minute, I’m—” What came out were sputters of a sentence. “—a mess!”

Kakyoin chuckled to himself, a soft one. It was always: Give me a moment. Give me a second. Give me a minute. For all he knew, it would keep crawling up. An hour. A day. A week. The thought was preposterous. Then he leaned forward in his chair when the screen flickered, bits and pieces of someone falling into frame appearing before him. It wasn’t loading right, and he considered resetting his whole PC.

He reached for his mouse to restart the thing, only to pause and stare at the screen in shock. There was now a figure in the chair and he gulped.

It was Jotaro.

Kakyoin stayed unmoving, hopefully seeming like a glitch rather than genuine surprise. What he saw was a giant of a man, as if he were about to burst out of the chair, the back of it covered by the other’s broad body. He felt like he was staring at a bodybuilder, muscle evident underneath a loose black t-shirt. Then he took a glance at his face: sharp features on a face full of sharp angles. Teal eyes, striking at a glance, stared him down. The figure before him ate thin apple slices, dipping each one into a jar of peanut butter with a careful hand.

Jotaro wasn’t anything he imagined him to be. He was handsome, the type of face he’d seen on models, his body chiseled like a marble statue. It was a lot to take in.

“Hey?” Jotaro asked, oddly unnerving to hear his voice with a body attached to it. “Kak, I think you’re lagging.”

Kakyoin snapped out of his surprise and pulled himself up into his seat. “Oh my god, hi!” he said, greeting Jotaro like he hadn’t felt a mix of emotions regarding his appearance. He waved with enthusiasm. Perhaps too much.

“Oh, thank god.” Jotaro took another apple slice into his mouth, no peanut butter this time. “Great stream today.”

“You think so?” Kakyoin asked. Small talk? Strange. He might as well amp up the conversation. “You know, I didn’t expect you to be good looking.” There was a chance the tint of his computer screen had him mistaken, but there was a faint flush on Jotaro’s cheeks. Though he meant nothing by the quick compliment, speaking what was on his mind.

“Ah, I’m not that handsome or anything!” Jotaro rose his hands up in defense, shaking his head. “I mean—sorry, it’s only my parents calling me that.” He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck, looking bashful.

Kakyoin raised an eyebrow. “Really? You know how you told me I looked like the popular type or whatever?” Jotaro nodded. “Yeah, you really look like it. The type people are obsessed with.”

Jotaro, for a moment, seemed appalled. “What? Really?” he asked, leaning forward to look at himself in the chat window. He abandoned his apples by then, whittled down to two slices. The peanut butter seemed to be running on empty too. “I don’t know about that.”

A grin spread across Kakyoin’s face, laughing at the sudden view that was too close for comfort. He might as well be staring at Jotaro’s pores. “You mind moving back?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Jotaro pushed himself back from the camera before holding two thumbs up. “I’m used to just voice things with most people. I mean, when I’m actually talking to people.”

This prompted Kakyoin to raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?” Jotaro didn’t think twice about answering.

“I don’t talk to a lot of people. I butt into server things, sure, but I don’t get the chance to get close with most.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to word it like this, so does that mean you don’t have many—”

“Friends?” Jotaro shrugged. Then he smiled, not one to hide shame but to tell Kakyoin he understood why such a question came up. It was like Jotaro became used to answering these types of things. “I have a few close ones, everyone else I just know. You’re the first new friend I’ve made in about three years.”

“Huh.” Kakyoin had a hunch that Jotaro was a little more awkward than the general public but ended up pleasantly surprised to know they had similarities. “I mean, I’m honored.”

Jotaro, for a second, looked distracted. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“I mean, haven’t we been asking each other questions this whole time?” They both laughed. “Hit me with it.”

“If I didn’t pay all that money, would we still be friends?”

Kakyoin paused to ponder on the question. It was a good one, nothing he taught off, and he leaned further back against his seat to think. Considering how long he took to think, he sighed at the realization that should probably just blabber. “Well, for starters, I wouldn’t have met you without these donations.”

A snort. “Yeah, that’s a given.”

“But at the same time, like let’s say we just meet at random, I dig your vibe.” Kakyoin cringed at his own words, unused to letting phrases he tried not to say slip. “You’re a neat guy, Jotaro.”

Jotaro nodded when he needed to, watching Kakyoin speak with an intense focus. It was when the slip of a compliment came by that his cheeks seemed to flush. “You think so?”

“Mmhmm.” Kakyoin gave him a grin, genuine in every way. “I’m lucky to have a friend like you.”

Chapter Text

“So, this is the game of the week, huh?”

The plat_stars donation already came in earlier, a sort of alarm clock to play another game. Now, for the past half-hour, Kakyoin played Hello Kitty Kruisers on a WiiU emulator. Brought up only because of his admission to enjoying racing games, in his weekly poll of user-submitted games, it became the highest voted game of all time. That meant he had to play it for the rest of the week, thirty minutes at minimum. He now considered taking that thing down. Well, he considered that every single week.

It wasn’t the worst of bad things the chat forced him to play, but it was up there. Sure, there was the choice of cars, boats, and airplanes; but they all controlled the same. It didn’t help that it felt so slow compared to something as simple as Mario Kart. At least he could play as Hello Kitty, a character he liked.

“Wow, I feel like we’ve seen this before,” he said, alluding to the fact that every stage for each vehicle was the same. He wasn’t unamused, enjoying the thought this game somehow got through quality checks. He wasn’t not having fun either, especially with the chat egging him on despite the game’s lackluster visuals not doing much for anyone.

He drove along as the cat in a boat, though it felt just like the car and airplane he played with earlier. Even with that, his investment in the game was questionable, leaning closer towards his screen as he steered with his controller in hand. From the corner of his eye, he could see the chat going wild with emoticons, support for a game he could win with ease.

Thanks to his concentration and headphones over his ears, he didn’t notice several things: his bedroom door opening, the scent of overly sweet iced tea, soft steps behind him—

A warm touch on his shoulder. “Honey, I got you—”

“Oh my god!” Kakyoin said, dropping his controller and hopping out of his chair, only to see his mother right behind him. He hadn’t stopped the game. Instead of saying a word, an intense warmth rushed into his cheeks. In all his time streaming, his mother never interrupted him.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Ann pressed a hand to her chest before holding a glass up, full of iced tea. “Got you your favorite.”

Kakyoin nodded, albeit rushed and hesitant as he took then placed the glass to the side. “Mom, I’m busy,” he said, coming out as a whimper that the chat would make fun of for years. He didn’t care too much.

For a moment, confusion stayed strewn on Ann’s face before she looked to the PC’s screen. With the game still running, her eyes went wide, and she mouthed an apology before rushing away. She wasn’t keen on newer technology, but at least knew when she interrupted something. Kakyoin took a quick glimpse at his other monitor to see people going wild, and he sighed.

He wanted to utter a joke, though he grew afraid it would come out snarky and rub everyone the wrong way. Instead, he bent down to take his controller from the floor, dusting it off before pausing the game. Unexpected to him, he fell into last place. “I should lock my door.”

He stared into his camera and shrugged, exiting the stage he was playing to play as another character. This time, he let the chat choose who to pick, distracting the viewers from earlier happenings. What ended up in a boat this time was a fish character he barely knew. “Look, I know you guys voted, but you must all be out of it if you think I’m playing this shit for like, an hour a day. This is some bare minimum stuff.”

A soft ding came from the side, a smaller donation. Luckily, he hadn’t started the game yet, still stuck on track selection. As he glanced to the side and saw it was $10, he knew to indulge whoever it was a bit. Though bewilderment set in when he realized who it was.

“Wait, plat_stars?” This was the first time the other donated twice, as well as donating much less than the usual. What was Jotaro trying to do? He squinted his eyes as he read the message underneath the name.

plat_stars donated $10!! That’s neat!!
talk about a mama’s boy

It took a while before the comment sank in, causing the heat in his face that had disappeared to return. He shook his head, pouting as he chose a stage at random—an ice stage. “Look, plat,” he said, happy he didn’t let Jotaro’s name slip. “I like you and all, but I think that’s the final straw.” He wrinkled his nose before laughing, shaking his head. “Eh, I’m kidding. Thanks for the ten bucks, plat. I’ll probably get some chicken nuggets later or something.”

Then he noticed two chat messages from Avdol and Polnareff; both of them were just ‘lol’. While he wanted to overthink and see it as the pair nudging him to speak up about Jotaro—he said nothing about the boy to anyone yet—it was probably another silly thing they did in tandem. Now that he thought about it, the two talked a lot more in their server than usual and were always playing Minecraft at the same time. Maybe they were getting closer, or it was all some weird coincidence. Either way, he always thought of the two as compatible.

He leaned back in his seat and continued to play, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he focused a lot on something that meant little to him.

The stream ended two hours later, and Kakyoin hopped into Discord. As usual, Jotaro was online. They decided on a schedule of sorts: video calls after streams on weekdays, staying on texts on a Saturday, and never-ending calls on Sundays. There were no plans for this, a noticeable lack of discussion, yet it fell into place so perfectly that they stuck onto it. It had only been two weeks since their first video chat.

Before he could type in their typical greeting, the prompt for a video call came up. “Jesus,” he mumbled to himself, unable to hold back surprise. He knew Jotaro enough to know he wouldn’t start a call without warning. But this happened once, when Jotaro’s mother called him to do something right before a call. Either way, he accepted it, and he pinned Jotaro’s camera to the center as their videos loaded in.

And as usual, Jotaro wasn’t in his seat yet. He was probably getting himself a glass of water or a snack, maybe both, either always present during their calls. The bed had lilac sheets this time. His eyes fixated on the posters on the wall, now recognizing a few people: Mako Ishino, Yoko Oginome, Mie and Kei from Pink Lady. When Kakyoin asked his mom about the artists, she didn’t hide astonishment as she told him she hadn’t heard any of the names in years. This made him question if Jotaro knew anything about modern music, but shrugged it off.

After a minute or two, Jotaro appeared before him, waving with his empty hand. The other held a plate of large chocolate chip cookies. It differed from the typical healthier choices of fruits or a small cup of yogurt.

“Grandma made me take these,” Jotaro said as he fell back into his chair, taking one of the cookies into his mouth. From the way hardly any crumbs fell, it seemed to be a chewier cookie.

“God, I wish I had those,” Kakyoin said, smiling at the thought of sweet flavors tickling his taste buds. “No one bakes here.”

“I can teach you.”

Kakyoin paused. The expression of want that had his mind drifting off into the distance disappeared. What was once a longing for fresh-baked goods turned into confusion. “Wait, you bake?”

Jotaro stared into the camera at the question, face as neutral as it could while chewing a large chunk of cookie. When he swallowed, he spoke: “Hey, how’d you feel about my extra donation earlier?”

The mere mention made memories of earlier hit Kakyoin like a truck. Thankfully, he didn’t blush like he expected to. “You want me to be honest?”

“You know I always say yes,” Jotaro said, covering his mouth, but it was obvious from his muffled words he was eating. The slight lag didn’t show him taking a bite.

“Kind of embarrassed.”

Maybe it took a while to process or Jotaro swallowed his food first, but his reaction was delayed by quite a bit. As soon as it came out, it startled Kakyoin a bit: loud, booming laughter, Jotaro tossing his head back, and what he assumed was a knee slap.

“Hey, what’s so funny?” Kakyoin grinned; he didn’t understand a thing, but the laughter was infectious. Jotaro didn’t laugh like that often, always hard to elicit. A part of him expected the comment to come.

“Do you not get the irony of it all?” Jotaro asked, quick to recover from the brief laughing fit, already composed with another cookie in his hand. “You’ve been so desensitized to getting thousands of dollars a week, but ten bucks irk you? Not even the comment I put?”

Kakyoin sighed, running a hand through his hair, his perfectly styled hair noodle bouncing with the motion. “I mean, I guess. Not going to lie, though; you’ve given me a lot more money than I know what to do with.”

“Huh.” Jotaro might have been speechless, maybe thinking over what to say. “But you said your family’s been paying stuff off with it.”

“We already kind of have. Paid everything off, I mean."

“Oh.”

Maybe Kakyoin’s eyes were mistaken, but Jotaro now looked like he was pondering some deep thoughts. The boy had his hand on his small plate, reaching for another cookie, though there was no attempt to grasp one in his hand. Instead, he gawked and stared somewhere off to the side. For a second, Kakyoin felt an odd sense of impending doom. Did he just ruin their friendship forever? The money meant nothing, a loss he could make up for, but friendship? That was rough. He had no idea how he came to his near conclusions, but the thought irked him.

Kakyoin gulped. “Hey, Jotaro. Jojo?” He didn’t want his overthinking to get the best of him. “Are you still with me?”

Jotaro snapped back to reality before speaking like he didn’t have such a long pause: “Sorry, lost in thoughts. Okay, so does this mean you don’t want the donations? Like, do they make you uncomfortable now?” It all came out perfect, probably what had the boy pause without warning.

Kakyoin blinked once, twice, thrice. Good question, simple answer. “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable at all. As for the donations, it’s your choice, anyway.” Then a thought hit him. “Why do you donate so much, anyway? $100 is already insane for me; that would have sufficed.”

“To be blunt about it—” Jotaro bit on an enormous chunk of a cookie, covering his mouth again to talk. While it muffled words, they were at least understandable, though there were interruptions as he swallowed food. “—I have no idea what to do with my money most of the time. Got too much of it, I thought I could at least spend it on something entertaining. I’ve been watching since October last year, so I thought the New Year was a good day to hand out money.”

God, Kakyoin wished he had that same problem. Excess money? He could only imagine what he’d do with it. It astonished him that Jotaro had been watching for so long, though. “Giant allowance, right? Like, what does your family do, anyway? Don’t have to answer anything, by the way.”

“Oh, my grandpa doesn’t like me talking about that stuff.” Jotaro took his hand down from his mouth. “That’s the one thing I adhere to from him. Let’s just say they, uh, handle something big.”

A scoff, then a mocking tone. “My dad works for Nintendo,” Kakyoin said, pitch changing with each syllable. Jotaro chuckled. “I mean, why me, though? I know you watch other streamers, so why give me the money?”

“I mean, there’s a multitude of reasons.”

“What’s the most important of them then?”

Jotaro hummed, his face shifting as an answer tried to make its way past him. His lips pursed, pouted. “Well,” he began, now looking into his webcam. Kakyoin didn’t respond, distracted by a bug on the wall. “Kakyoin?”

“Oh! Yeah, I’m listening.” Kakyoin looked right into the camera as well, eyes meeting Jotaro’s. If they were face to face in real life, this would have been unnerving.

“Well,” Jotaro repeated. “You felt special, that’s all.”

Kakyoin didn’t notice a faint flutter in his stomach, an airiness overtaking his body. Instead, he gasped then giggled, unaware of his own developing feelings.