Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Naruto is scrolling through Twitter on his ancient iPhone with its cracked screen on some dismal Saturday in early October, curled up in the corner of the couch with the spare duvet, while some old One Piece episodes are playing on the TV. His mom had messaged before he’d woken up - she was taking a double shift and wasn’t likely to be home until sometime in the afternoon.

They normally have lunch together on Saturdays and, by way of an apology, she had ordered a pizza delivery to come at about noon. So… he’s just lazing, waiting for that, and then… who knows? Lazy was synonymous with boring, right?

He gets off the couch at about 10, and potters off to the apartment complex's laundry room, emptying the dryer and rotating in the next load. When he returns to the apartment, he drops the basket in front of the couch and checks the kitchen. There’s… some milk, but Kushina will need it for her coffee that evening.

He grabs a string cheese snack and some water and heads back to the couch, sitting cross-legged and draping the duvet over his shoulders. It’s a bit chilly today. He tucks the corners of the duvet under his feet and gets to work folding the washing - Kushina rarely, if ever, had time for it, and certainly wouldn’t have time that day. He always tries to have clean clothes for school, anyway, so he doesn’t mind too much.

He’s been raised to be pretty independent, Kushina working from early evening and coming home just before he heads off to school, and sleeping while he’s at school until it's time to get up and cook his dinner/her breakfast. He doesn’t go to early morning sports anymore, as they're expensive, but when he did, he’d had to wake, dress, and transit there by himself. Now, he stays at school an extra hour or two, sometimes studying for wont of anything else to do, preferring it over the pressing quietude of their apartment as she slept.

He knows a lot about money, time, and stress at such an early age - more, he thinks, than most of his yearmates. So, he helps where he can, spends as little as possible, eats and shops conservatively, and tries to focus on the relationships he has - Kushina, Shikamaru - rather than the things he doesn’t.

Tries.

He’s nearly finished with the washing, lamenting a hole in his favorite pair of orange socks, when he notices the little red notification icon on his phone.

SharingAnon: Good morning, Beautiful. It’s your birthday next week. What would you like?

YuzumakiNarts: Huh? Who this?

SharingAnon: I’d prefer not to say.

YuzumakiNarts: Lol fine! I dunno… get me a laptop! :P

SharingAnon: Is that all?

YuzumakiNarts: I guess! Just make sure its good enough to at least play Sims, alright? Lol!

SharingAnon: Consider it done.

It’s a crazy little interaction, it only takes 3 minutes, and he doesn’t think for a second that anything will come of it. He raises an eyebrow at his phone and laughs to himself, but no new messages come through. He wonders who it could be, who would send him these random anonymous messages, but he can’t think of anyone. 

If the arrival of his pizza doesn’t distract him enough, the entire conversation is gone from his mind by the time Kushina gets home.

On October 10th, he turns 16.

He wakes up expecting little. They don’t usually have enough money for big birthday presents. So, he’s in no rush to race out and see what Kushina has gotten him. Sleepily, he rolls over to find the box of a brand-new, high-end gaming laptop on his rickety nightstand.

He thinks he’s still dreaming.

Slowly, he cracks open the box, peels back layers of styrofoam and protective film, pries open the sleek device, and presses the power button, his stomach slowly forming knots. He’s certain it isn’t from his mom - it's far too expensive! -  and no one else he knew had a couple of grand burning a hole in their pockets.

It turns on. 

Quickly, with a soft whirr, a vibrant desktop soon greets him. It smells clean, its keys bright and shiny, the display crisp and unmarred. Giddy, he carefully places it on his bed before jumping to his feet. He pumps his fists in the air and kicks about, forcing out his unruly excitement as quietly as he can. When he’s finished, he stands there panting in the middle of his room as his gears finally start turning.

Not Kushina. Not Shikamaru or his parents. Maybe Jiraiya, his godfather, or Tsunade, his great-aunt? If anyone had the money, they would. He can’t really imagine them going to the trouble, though. It was only his 16th birthday, and they lived out of state. 

He drops down to kneel before the computer, a cheek-splitting grin on his face as he tentatively explores, loading up the default browser to download some must-have applications. It was so beautiful. Nobody, in their right mind, would gift this to him.  Slowly, his stomach sinks, and he glances furtively over his shoulder at the door to his bedroom. What will Mom say? What will she say when he confesses that he doesn’t even know who his mysterious gifter is?

Thinking quickly, he shoots up off the floor, grabs his old laptop, and thrusts it into the darkest corner of his wardrobe, heart thudding erratically in his chest. Then he rips open a few drawers on his desk until he finds a hoarded stack of stickers, too cool to have been used yet. He winces and whispers apologies as he plasters them all over the laptop’s casing, hiding the shimmer of the freshly de-filmed device, reverent in his irreverence.

He puts it on the desk where his old one had been and prays his mom won’t ask him about it. When she does, he’ll lie and say cousin Karin loaned it to him. That’ll work, right? 

He throws on some pants and emerges from his room. Kushina says nothing about the laptop, proving she’s unaware of its existence and isn't the one who put it in his room. He accepts the shiny new pair of sneakers she gifts him gratefully but spends the rest of the day feeling like he’s holding a live wire. 

Who had gifted him a laptop? How had it gotten on his bedside table?

In the weeks after his birthday, every time he uses it, he feels a weird combination of giddy and guilty, torn between keeping it a secret and shouting from the rooftops. Who are you, why have you given me this, how can I repay you?

...Why me?

SharingAnon: Good morning, Beautiful. Christmas is around the corner. What’s Santa bringing you?

YuzumakiNarts: Oh hey it’s you! Are you Santa today then? XD

SharingAnon: I assure you; we look nothing alike. But, for the purposes of this conversation, sure.

YuzumakiNarts: Well then, Santa, how about you get me that new iPhone?

SharingAnon: What color?

YuzumakiNarts: …you’r joking. omg. Who IS thiS???

SharingAnon: Well, if you aren’t going to answer the question…

YuzumakiNarts: Fuck! Orange??? I don’t know, do they make orange??? Black, I guess!

SharingAnon: Consider it done.

YuzumakiNarts: No wait! Hang on. Hello??? Ugh, reply to me, you bastard!

When Naruto wakes up on Christmas Day, he foolishly expects to find another expensive box on his nightstand. There isn’t anything. He wrestles with the bitter feeling in his chest, wondering if he has done something wrong. He hasn’t even said thank you, has he? It’s petulant and juvenile to complain that he hasn’t received a second expensive gift, but… 

It takes him a while to crawl out of bed, feeling far too childish. He hasn’t even done anything to deserve a laptop, let alone an iPhone, but he just… That he’d gotten another message at all? He’d jumped on it! His phone had been on the way out for over a year, so when he’s asked… he doesn’t even need to think about it. A phone, god, yes, please, a phone. A new one, like a new new one, something he could brag about for once.

And yet, even before the conversation had ended, he’d regretted his request. He felt so demanding, so childish, so… materialistic. Somehow, in the solace of an anonymous individual's inbox, he’d finally found the courage to want. To make unbridled requests for things that would make him happy, purely because things had been on offer. 

And they never had before.

Guilt-ridden, he’d half told himself that whatever phone he got, he should return it. Or sell it. Just to have some money in their pockets, to give Kushina a reprieve, to buy things that were needs as opposed to wants. Then he’d chastised himself, as that’s not what gifts were for. He’d spent days, struggling internally, trying to figure out how to handle his next gift, so…

Waking to nothing had been mortifying.

Like the cruelest, most tormenting practical joke.

Which honestly seemed more in line with the kind of gift he should’ve expected from a stranger.

Bitterness eats at the back of his throat as he walks out into the chilly loungeroom, and he feels like the most ungrateful child in the universe, knowing how pale his mom's gifts are going to feel besides the idea of what he could've had, and-

It’s there. Right there under their cheap, plastic, Walmart Christmas tree.

Naruto’s mood flips. Sudden excitement doubles and triples in the span of heartbeats as he unwraps the small box – it’s pretty much the most expensive iPhone on the market. It’s black, as they don’t make them in orange, but there’s a second neatly wrapped present – an accessory pack including a case and a strap made of burnt orange leather. Not quite as bright as his standard fare, but beautiful and luxurious, monogrammed with his initials and well-made.

Of course, he can’t hide this gift from his mom.

Kushina goes mental. Christmas is discarded as Kushina tries to make sense of the two-thousand-dollar gift that has appeared overnight for her son – in their home. It’s the first time that Naruto’s really considered a few things, revealed as he grudgingly answers her questions, telling her about the laptop and the messages. A stranger entered their house, twice. A stranger who knew him not only by Twitter profile but by his real name. His fingers brush over his monogrammed initials as he frowns to himself, the reality of the situation slowly being hammered into him by her shouting.

The police are called.

They dust the apartment for prints just like in TV shows – the doors and windowsills, at least – and they take the laptop box and the wrapping paper from the iPhone. Naruto doesn’t, however, let them take the devices, and when the police look at Kushina, he makes a vehement case that manages to sway her – he’s not letting such expensive gifts slip through his fingers. The police bring out a technician to check over the devices, who finds nothing out of the ordinary, and he finally lets out a heavy sigh when they let him keep the ‘evidence’.

Kushina cusses out the security company as well, but they remind her that she only coughed up for their cheapest package - a singular front door surveillance camera. Footage shows that it wasn’t the ingress point, so what else are they meant to be able to do? By the end of the call, they offer her a discount on extending the package to her living area, and she agrees.

When Naruto gets back to school after winter break, everyone must do a mandatory internet safety course. They learn all about stranger danger, predators, scams, trafficking… anything age-appropriate the schools can think to cram down their throats, the seminars facilitated by the police, local government, community watch, and the school’s security company.

Naruto listens carefully, though he rolls his eyes at their heavy-handed worst-case scenarios, and he flips off anyone cruel enough to make jokes at his expense. He fits the bill from every fake scenario - overlooked kid, few friends, few hobbies, alone for hours, poor. He tries to take in everything they’re saying, but it’s hard. He has a laptop, and an iPhone, the latter of which rests heavily in his pocket every day. He’s proud of them, oddly. It’s perverse, he supposes. What gross payment does his mystery stalker expect from him, and when would he come to claim his 'rewards'? But Naruto can’t help but feel… important. Valued? All the gullible, idiot blondes in the world, and he was the one chosen to receive these gifts, this attention. 

The police delete the man and his messages from his Twitter contact list. The last thing he hears on the matter is that Twitter was unable to trace the owner of the account. It sucks… he never even got to say thank you.

SharingAnon2: Good Morning, Beautiful. Valentine’s Day soon. Miss me?

YuzumakiNarts: Mom says I can’t talk to strangers on the internet. Thanks for the laptop and iPhone tho.

SharingAnon2: She’s right, strangers on the internet can be dangerous. Would you like me to stop messaging you?

YuzumakiNarts: I mean… you don’t have to? I guess…

SharingAnon2: Just tell me when to stop, and I will. If that makes you feel better. 

YuzumakiNarts: Ok? Cool! That’s gotta be fine then, right? Haha, Happy Valentine's Day then, SharingAnon2!

SharingAnon2: Happy Valentine’s Day, Naruto.

Naruto wakes on February 14th giddy and apprehensive, a 6 am alarm chiming on his still pristine-looking phone. He sits up and immediately casts about his room. It’s extra clean, actually, so that he can more easily see if anything has changed or appeared, but there’s nothing. He bites his lip repeatedly as he gets up and gets ready for school, easily an hour earlier than his usual, frazzled morning routine. He picks up his pillow, lifts the lid of his laptop, and checks under the bed. Every time he finds nothing, his heart aches with that same peculiar sense of heartbreak as Christmas day. He walks around expecting to find a gift at any moment, an ‘Aha!’ primed in his throat, thinking that just another extra trick stood between him and his latest treasure.

Kushina will be at work for a little while longer. She normally comes home by about 7:30 and kicks his ass out of bed. She showers while he eats, then eats while he showers. He will race out the door by 8 am, and she’ll sometimes see him off, waving at him in her pajamas, destined for bed once he’s gone.

He takes an extra-long shower, accidentally doing a second full lather, honestly feeling a little putout. A few of his friends are dating a few of his other friends, and while he doesn’t fault or hate on any of them – he wants them to be happy! – he knows that there are going to be plenty of locker side smooches and lovey-dovey conversations and… well, he’d hoped for a second that he may just have something like a Valentine this year. For the first time. A secret one, but still.

After he’s showered and dressed, he goes through the house, but there’s nothing new there either. Petulantly, he flips off the shiny new surveillance camera in the corner of the living room, its little red light blinking at him in reply. Was its existence alone enough to deter his… what is this person even called? His stalker, his Valentine, his personal creep? Naruto isn’t even sure if they're a guy or a girl! Not that it matters to him, but he really doesn’t know anything at all about this person, which is weird considering how much they know about him, y’know?

He's eating his bowl of cereal on the couch, browsing through his phone – the Valentine’s tweets are already rolling in – when Kushina comes through the door. It takes her a good minute as she tinkers with the keyless entry of their security system. That had come with the apartment, as well as the discount that had made Kushina sign on for the front door security camera in the first place. It was the only high-end element to their cheap apartment complex, and it was probably just a cash grab from the security company. She drops her bags in the entryway and is toeing off her shoes when she spots him.

“You’re up!” she says, grinning. “Important day or something?”

“Nah, not really,” Naruto replies, putting his phone down.

“Okay! Well, Happy Valentine's Day Ruru,” she comes over, planting a big kiss on his forehead. His heart pangs weirdly – God, he appreciates his mother. He does. But is this the only Valentine’s love he’s going to receive today?

He leaves while she’s in the shower, not looking forward to any more idle interrogation.

He gets to school on a slightly earlier bus, and is thinking about how weird a difference just 10 minutes makes – hardly anybody is on school grounds yet! A skip enters his step as he realizes he might be able to get to his locker, drop his shit, and go loiter in homeroom – he’ll be able to bypass a lot of the early morning Valentine’s bullshit!

Chuffed with his plan, he throws open his locker.

A bouquet of roses falls on his face.

A whole mountain of petals scatters to the floor as he splutters, stunned.  He peers around the ginormous bouquet to look at his locker. Its prior contents have been neatly pushed back or to the side, and under the remaining petals are a few pretty, ornate packs of Turkish Delight, chocolate-covered strawberries, and heart-shaped marshmallows.

There’s a gasp and snickers from further down the hall. Distantly, he hears the sound of a shutter clicking.

It’s ridiculously embarrassing.

Naruto buries his face in the roses, their crisp scent smothering him, and grins. It’s all he can do not to jump up and down, right there in the hall, scant milling students or not.

He’s never felt so loved.

He laughs into the roses until he convinces the itching in his eyes to subside, and when people accuse him of sniffling, he gleefully claps back that he has allergies – he doesn’t. Some obnoxious teacher disdainfully hands him a plastic bag, and he stoops to pick up every single petal, not the least bit mad. As his friends arrive, they tease him, more curious than badgering, but he takes every bit of it and says nothing. He doesn’t get to his homeroom very quickly at all.

He spends the morning on cloud nine, floating between classes, pockets stuffed with rose petals and drowning in the feeling of finally being loved unabashedly, unashamedly, boldly, and with intent. Nothing and no one can get under his skin, even the jibes about him being girly for how happy he is over 'a few flowers’. He just doesn’t care, it doesn’t affect him.

Maybe he notices a few calculating looks or the quiet urgency of the office staff, but by lunchtime, his brain has kicked in. He makes plans to give the roses out to his friends, and the teachers he’ll see that afternoon. He plans to leave most of the snacks in his locker, taking only a small amount home at a time so he doesn’t freak out his mom. For a moment, he thinks he has everything handled.

He doesn't.

The police arrive, and he’s kept from the following period. Kushina, as well, is called to come down to the school. Naruto winces when he sees his mother – tired, unimpressed, and stressed. She kisses him on the crown while he sits in the principal’s office, but she’s strung out and can only pace.

He wants to tell her to calm down, but he instinctively knows how that will go over and stays silent.

The police drill him and even pull a few of his close friends out of class to talk to them as well - Shikamaru, and whatever attention whore is bold enough to claim they're his friend just to find out more about what's going on. Naruto lies that he doesn’t know anything (he’s already deleted the Twitter conversation, and hands over his phone when asked) and hopes Shikamaru doesn't say anything either. The school and the police insist no one’s in trouble, but it quickly becomes apparent that no student at the school - not Shikamaru or any of Naruto's 'other friends' - was responsible for Naruto’s gifts.

Naruto just rolls his eyes, why are they getting so worked up over a Valentine’s present?

The reality hits him not too much later, as a representative of the school’s security company strides past his seat, talking with the silver-haired detective and the principal. Words like break-in, subpar surveillance infrastructure, acute outages, motion activation, and insufficient lighting are thrown around while they're in earshot. Coincidentally, exactly one camera is down, and it’s for that specific hallway of lockers. The detective asks for static footage of all entrances, but the representative mostly shrugs – They've been viewed, and there just wasn’t anything in the footage.

Naruto’s sudden hope that he might see his benefactor’s face is squashed, but that backs as he realizes just how intense this all is. His home has been broken into – twice! – and that isn’t too big a deal because it’s a cheap apartment in a shitty complex… but this time, this time the guy broke into a government building, managed to sneak past several security cameras, just to…

Just to fill his locker with tokens of affection.

He covers the silly smile that's spread across his lips with his hand. Across the way, Shikamaru raises his eyebrow. Naruto's closest friend and confidant, who had been told about the laptop and the iPhone and all the messages. His mom is about ready to pull her hair out, the police and security company and the school staff are worried, but all he can do is smile.

Nothing comes of the investigation aside from the school having to renegotiate its contract with the security company. They end up getting a significant upgrade for a minimal price increase, but Naruto doesn’t care. Quietly, he bets to himself that if his stalker had to do it again, he could and would.

“Hmm,” Shikamaru frowns from Naruto’s bed. “Did you start the video yet?”

“Yeah, it’s going,” Naruto says, half turning in his chair. “Why?”

“That brand of laptop… Normally it has a little light next to the lens when the camera feed is running,” Shikamaru places his laptop aside, standing from the bed and coming over to peer over Naruto’s shoulder.

“Hmm, never seen that before. Besides, I just turned it on,” Naruto shrugs.

“Let me see,” Shikamaru says, reaching for Naruto’s mouse.

The entire computer turns off.

“What did you do?” Naruto squawks.

“Nothing!” Shikamaru snaps.

They boot the computer back on and reopen the stream. Curiously, the little light turns on. It’s the first time Naruto remembers seeing it. But he’s forgetful anyway, so maybe he just hadn’t noticed. Shikamaru eases back onto his seat on the bed, though his brow is furrowed. Kiba’s voice trickles down their headphones – are they ready to play the game yet? And they forget about it. Multiple headshots later, Shikamaru is dozing on his bed, gentle breaths wafting against Naruto’s toes and Naruto is lying on his chest, staring up at his laptop over his pillow. He’d played well that night – the laptop had run slightly faster than before.

“What does it mean?” he asks. Shikamaru doesn’t need him to elaborate.

“Well…” Shikamaru sighs, giving himself a moment to arrange the numerous thoughts he’s probably had about the odd occurrence. “It could mean that somebody was watching you. Like that guy, the one who gave you the laptop. He could’ve put all kinds of software on it. Have you factory reset it at all?”

“It’s brand new, I haven’t reset anything,” Naruto grumbles. “What makes you so sure it’s a guy, anyway?”

“What makes you think it could be a girl?” Shikamaru asks, lifting his head to ensure Naruto can see his raised eyebrow. “Whatever, it could be either, but I think your stalker is a guy. Do you want me to reset your laptop for you?”

“…Nah. It’s fine now, right? Like, the light came on, and it went faster,” Naruto shrugs, looking away.

“Well,” Shikamaru sucks on his teeth noisily. He knows better than to tell his friend what to do - Naruto could be surprisingly bullish when pushed. “We kind of caught him, so maybe he deleted his surveilling software? So, it could be gone. It might not be, though. So long as you don’t mind the idea that they might still have access to your webcam, then yeah… I guess it’s fine now.”

Naruto didn’t reply. A guy that would sneak into his bedroom, his loungeroom, and his school to leave him expensive presents probably wouldn’t stop at hijacking his webcam, and probably wouldn’t ditch any such program if he had such a thing running. Y’know, if that’s what was happening. It’s a bit of a leap, right? Based on only a faulty webcam light and a random shutdown, right?

In the same beat that Naruto tells himself he isn’t being surveilled, he wonders about all the things the webcam could have seen… everything he’d done in front of the laptop that ran faster than its predecessor, with his mom working night shifts, and no such thing as safe search enabled. His face burns so red he buries it into his pillow, and distantly, pervasively, he kind of… hopes.

It’s wrong.

All of this is wrong, as numerous adults try to bash into his brain. But why doesn’t it feel wrong? A laptop, an iPhone, when he'd needed them. Roses when he felt unloved. And now…

He isn’t beautiful, he isn’t handsome, he’s just some awkward teenager with a bit too much chub who doesn’t work hard enough at sports to keep any muscle distinction. People like him don’t have secret admirers, people like him aren’t crushed on, people like him aren’t…

The idea that somebody could be watching him in the dark of night…

It sparks a fire so deep under his skin, a fire that warms, and soothes, and eases as much as it electrifies every nerve in his body.

He’s wanted.

“Probably just a glitch, then,” Shikamaru hedges awkwardly, unaware of where his usually vocal friend’s mind had gone in the moments of silence. Naruto nods into his pillow.

SharingAnon3: Are you two dating?

YuzumakiNarts: No! Shika’s just my friend.
YuzumakiNarts: So, you were watching me, huh?!
YuzumakiNarts: How much have you seen, perv.

SharingAnon3: All of it.

YuzumakiNarts: I didn’t consent to that, y’know. It’s wrong.

SharingAnon3: No, you didn’t. I’m sorry, It's just that you’re too beautiful.

YuzumakiNarts: …

SharingAnon3: What, you don’t believe me? This is my phone background.

The image sent – only a couple of hours after Shikamaru had gone home on Sunday – makes Naruto gasp. It’s clearly a screenshot from a video feed stolen from his webcam, of Naruto at the height of indulging in some elicit videos. He was biting his lip through his orgasm, his bared torso, blurred hand, and a stream of white front and center in the image.

His hands shake as he puts his phone down and buries his face in his hands, mortified. His heart threatens to beat out of his chest - he can’t believe this is happening. Has he been naïve, accepting those gifts? Is this man some kind of serial pervert? Does he do this to every teenager that responds to his DM’s? Is Naruto just another victim in a string of unwitting minors, so caught up in their financial gain that they eagerly pay the price? What is going on?

YuzumakiNarts: Why me?

SharingAnon3: As I said, you’re beautiful. I want to say that I couldn’t help myself, but that would be a lie. What I've done is stupid, and yet I've still elected to do it. I could watch you for hours. Well… now I can’t. I deleted the program when your friend got curious.

YuzumakiNarts: You’re a pervert! Like, a crazy stalker pervert!

SharingAnon3: Maybe.

YuzumakiNarts: You’ve been in my house and you bugged my computer and watched me… do that stuff! That’s crazy!

SharingAnon3: I’m not saying it’s not.

YuzumakiNarts: You’re insane!

SharingAnon3: That’s certainly possible. I’ve put a lot on the line to do this, so insanity seems likely. But you’re special.

YuzumakiNarts: I’m NOT special.

SharingAnon3: You’re special to me. You're the reason I've crossed this line. I’ve never done this before, and I don’t expect I’ll ever do it again.

YuzumakiNarts: Liar!

SharingAnon3: Look, I understand why you would think that. I’m not going to stop you from believing whatever you want to believe, I’m not going to force you to accept my words. However, I will say this firmly – I am telling you the truth.
SharingAnon3: I didn’t just wake up one day and say “Hmm, you know what I could go for? A blonde teenager”. I was just going about my business, living my life, when I saw you and… I just didn’t want to not see you again. So, yeah, you’re right. Crazy, insane, a pervert, whatever you want to call me, but I am not a liar, and I am not lying about you. You are special, and I would never do this for anyone else.
SharingAnon3: If this is too much, if you would like me to stop contacting you, all you have to do is say so.

Naruto doesn’t answer.

He doesn't tell the man to stop contacting him, yet there are no follow-up messages.

He doesn't know how to reply to this, all he knows is that he isn't ready to close this door. It's just a lot, and he needs to think about it. That's okay, right?

Still, every time he opens his phone – and he does it often, looking, hoping – and there are no new messages, or worse, new messages from other people, his heart pangs painfully. He wants so desperately to believe he’s special to this man.

They’re stuck in limbo for weeks. Naruto feels like they’re waiting for each other to give in, and its only stubbornness that keeps him from reaching out first. After all, he hadn’t told the man to stop contacting him, right? Occasionally he turns on an empty video chat and is frustrated when the little red light pops up on his laptop. He doesn’t want to be watched, but he doesn’t like how alone that little red light makes him feel. He’s frustrated, and it shows. He’s short with his friends, his teachers, and his mom. He doesn’t want their attention, and yet his ire only earns their concern. He hides in his room, he goes out less, and he’s glued to his devices, but still, there’s only radio silence.

In June, he randomly wakes to find a Nintendo Switch at the foot of his bed. The window is ajar, and there’s a faint breeze, but there’s no trace of another person having been in his room. He ignores the box entirely, jumps on his laptop, boots it up, and… there's still a little red light when he turns on his webcam. He pouts before turning back to the gift.

It isn’t even the gift itself – though, heck yeah, it’s a Nintendo Switch! – it’s just the sheer… single-minded thought behind it. Going to the shop, taking it off the shelf, spending no small amount of money, bringing it to his house, and sneaking in to leave it by his feet… it’s all for his benefit, and could come with a severe cost! Whoever this man was, he was flirting with the law time and time again to lavish Naruto with gifts. Who else in his life would risk going to jail just to lay a Switch at his feet? Who else would risk the wrath of the government, security companies, and state police to deliver him roses?

He dawdles a whole week – he doesn’t open the Switch until he does – and finally gives in. It’s the first time that he’s the first one to message. The reply is instant.

YuzumakiNarts: What do I owe you for the Switch?

SharingAnon3: You don’t owe me anything.

YuzumakiNarts: And the laptop, and the iPhone, and the Valentine’s stuff.

SharingAnon3: Nothing. My wallet goes undented.

YuzumakiNarts: You’re not listening to me. What do you WANT.

SharingAnon3: I think you’re not listening to me. I don’t want anything from you.

YuzumakiNarts: Show me how to set up the webcam thing again.

It's nearly midnight, and Kushina is still at work for a few more hours. It’s Friday night though and Naruto doesn’t have anywhere to be in the morning. He’s shaking with nerves, and when it takes a few minutes to get a reply, he doubts himself a million times over.

He just wants to give something back! Something he can choose to give back, something he can say he gave, something to level the playing field between them!

SharingAnon3: No.

YuzumakiNarts: WHAT? Why not!

SharingAnon3: Not looking to have the cops up my ass, thanks.

YuzumakiNarts: No, you bastard, there’s no cops! I just…

SharingAnon3: Just what?

YuzumakiNarts: I just… I want to say thank you, I guess? I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing.

There is another long pause.

It’s so long Naruto wants to pull his hair out, and he worries at his lower lip as he waits. The little ellipses pop up once or twice, so he knows he hasn’t been ignored.

A download link finally comes through. Naruto clicks on it, arriving at a website for some kind of program. He gathers that it lets another computer remotely access your own. His heart is pounding. He feels like he’s doing something wrong, like Kushina is going to jump up out of nowhere any second now, crash through the door and rip the computer – and this man – right out of his hands.

He installs the program.

He gets it all setup, racing through the prompts, and when he’s done it spits out a code used to let other computers connect. He sends it off. Seconds later, he accepts the dial-in, and after he lifts his hand off the trackpad, the cursor moves on its own. Naruto sits back, awed, as the webcam is turned on, and his face comes up in a little window. Tentatively, he smiles and waves. He looks as awkward as he feels. Next, the notepad comes up.

> Hello Beautiful.

“Uhh, hey there, stranger,” Naruto says, wincing, his own voice suddenly feeling foreign and weird.

> What now?

“I figured you would know!” Naruto says, flailing.

> Cute.
> You said you wanted to pay me back.
> How much do you want to happen?

“I… uh. Whatever you…” Naruto shrugs sheepishly, running a hand up the back of his neck. His face burns with embarrassment – he knows he sounds like a damn idiot. “Whatever you want, I guess.”

> Gunning for a PS5?

Naruto snorts, laughing. “No, asshole. You’ve sent me enough, I just… I don’t know. I kinda like the attention, I guess?”

> I see.
> Take off your shirt.

Naruto pauses, scowling. Then, after actually glancing at his bedroom door, he slowly peels off his shirt. It’s oddly exhilarating, taking orders from this stranger, though he doesn’t love how unflattering an angle the webcam has of him and his now bare torso.

> You really are beautiful.
> How about you go down the hall and turn off the alarm system – show me how serious you are.

“I don’t know the code,” Naruto says, rolling his eyes. He crosses his arms, laying his palms over his nipples protectively. His blush is renewed, and… he really does love the compliments. They make his heart dance.

>5324.

He… what?

“You’re bluffing,” Naruto scoffs.

>A home security code doesn’t seem like a smart thing for me to bluff about.

Naruto throws his hands into the air. “Fine, alright. Tempt fate then. I’m going!”

He lingers a moment.

> You remember that I can see you, right?

Naruto stalks off down the hall, grumbling about know-it-all asshole perverts. He trips on the jacket he'd left in the loungeroom and is furiously embarrassed until he remembers the webcam can’t see him out here. The security camera still can, though, with its little blinking red light in the corner of the room. He flips it the bird, before focusing on the security panel. It wasn’t something he’d cared to learn about, and Kushina hadn’t shown him either. It was just for the cameras, after all, and he didn't need to mess with the panel to use the keyless entry. It's not like they had one of those over-the-top ring bells or anything - those were way out of budget.

It took him a few minutes to figure out where to even enter the code, then he triple-checked that he remembered it correctly, resisting the urge to go back into the room and check the computer. But eventually, he tries his luck, he gets it right, and watches the active camera icon deactivate. Looking up, the loungeroom camera doesn’t blink it’s a little red light at him anymore either. He hums a little at that, impressed by his stalker. When he returns to his room, though, his webcam is off, the virtual notepad is gone, and his desktop is blank.

He’s disappointed. Was he alone once more? It doesn’t cross his mind that he’s given complete power over his computer to this stranger for the last few minutes. 

“Did you have a good trip?”

Naruto jumps as a voice comes out of nowhere. It’s deep, level, and amused. “How did you-?!”

“I heard the thud,” the voice says, before chuckling. God… it’s such a sexy laugh.

“No, no, I- Not that! Can you… still see me?” Naruto walks tentatively over to his computer, looking all over the screen. There’s no obvious sign that any programs are running, let alone the webcam.

“Yes. I decided to put the program back, as you asked. I also turned on this handy little function that lets us talk properly. You’re welcome.”

“Oh, okay… Cool…” Naruto breathes, before dropping down into his chair. “Hi.”

“Hello, Beautiful.” It’s said with so much earnestness that Naruto’s heart swells, and he knows he’s smiling goofily at the computer. He makes a point of looking at the little lens – it’s easier now that he can’t see himself.

“I’m not-”

“You are,” the voice insists. “So, very beautiful.”

“You’re crazy,” Naruto laughs it off. He feels hot in his face and down his neck, and he’s reminded every second that he’s not wearing a shirt. He itches to pull one on, but a livelier, excited part of him wants to take more off. Wants to hear more of those words, hear them until he believes them. “So, uhh… what now?”

“How do you mean?”

“Do you want me to, uh… Like, take off my pants or something?” Naruto flashes a quick smile, then bites his lip. The words sound stupid the moment they leave his mouth.

“I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” The voice is kind and consoling, and Naruto’s shoulders unwind from their previously tense state. “But if you’re offering…”

“I mean, I… You’ve seen it all before, right?” Naruto asks, a nervous laugh escaping him. There his shoulders go, hiking up again.

“I have.” It’s refreshing that the man doesn’t lie to him, just as he’d claimed before. “But you didn’t know I was watching. This would be different, Naruto, and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“…Do you want to see?” Naruto asks, smile dropping as he stares dead into the lens.

“Only if you want to show me.”

Naruto has to look away as if he’s caught in some very intense eye contact. His next breath shudders out of him because he knows this is wrong and there’s no lock on his bedroom door, but… locks couldn’t stop this man anyway. And the one thing he seems to want? It's Naruto. He’s never felt so important, so coveted, so valued.

“Could you… maybe tell me what to do? And I’ll stop if I… If I want to stop, right? That’s okay?” Naruto doesn’t look back as he asks. He’s worried about a reprimand, he’s worried he’s doing this wrong, he’s worried that at any step he will prove himself unworthy of this man’s attention, and he’ll disappear without a trace.

“I can do that, Beautiful.” The voice is soft. His stalker feels playful, reverent, perhaps awed by Naruto's offer. “How about you move somewhere I can more easily see you.”

Naruto pushes back the chair, standing over his computer. It feels a little awkward, like he’s towering over it, so he quickly drops back down, unsure. He looks around furtively, hoping another idea will jump out to him – one does. He unplugs the laptop and moves it to his nightstand, pushing things off haphazardly and setting it down. Then he sits on the bed and tilts the screen toward himself, using his best guess at the angles.

“Is this okay?” Naruto asks.

“I can see you very clearly.”

“Haha, alright, so…” Naruto twists his fingers awkwardly.

“Hm… How about you start with your zip?” The voice suggests.

“Oh, yeah, obviously,” Naruto rolls his eyes, leaning back to reach for the button of his pants. He pauses, then, and grabs both of his pillows, stuffing them between his back and the wall. He checks they’re comfy, flopping against them a few times – he isn’t stalling! – before finally resting back against them with a huff. “Can you still see me?”

“I can.” There’s mirth in that voice, damnit all.

Naruto curses under his breath, reaching for the button of his pants once more.

“I mean… and is it bright enough? Is it too bright? I can turn off the light, or maybe-”

“You seem nervous,” the man says with another chuckle. “That’s fine. You don’t have to do anything.”

“No, I’m- I’m not! Well, I am, but I can still do it!”

“Mmhmm. Do what again?”

“Th-this! I can do this, asshole!”

“Mmhmm. You can take out your dick, on camera, and masturbate while I listen and watch?” The voice is being matter of fact, not the least perturbed by the words he’s saying.

Naruto, on the other hand, is the opposite.

“Oh my god, don’t just… don’t just say shit like that, man.” Naruto puts his hands over his face, blocking out the laptop, absolutely mortified. Hearing it like that, his innards had scrunched up on themselves nervously.

“If you can’t even hear those words, I doubt you’re ready to do anything like this,” the voice says calmly.

“…I’m sorry,” Naruto mumbles into his hands. Those were not tears coming on, he was just frustrated. He felt like an idiot. “…I wanted to.”

“No, you didn’t,” the voice hums. “You just wanted to make me happy. This isn’t making me happy, though, not at all. How about you put your shirt back on, alright?”

Naruto laughs harshly, scrubbing at his face. “It’s already off, what does it matter!”

“It matters because you matter,” the voice says. “Because I never wanted you to sit here and prostitute yourself, because I don’t need services in exchange for my gifts. But, if it’s that hard on you to give up like this, then I’m telling you – put your shirt back on.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” Naruto jabs with an unsubtle sniffle, leaning over to pick up his shirt from the corner of the bed and pull it back on. “…I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. I’m glad we got that out of the way.” The voice says before some shuffling noises come down the line. “Now that that’s sorted, are you ready to get your ass handed to you in Call of Duty?”

“You… cannot beat me in that game, I’m literally the best,” Naruto shifts forward, a smile stealing across his face.

“Naruto, I think we’ve established that I’ve been watching you for months. I know for a fact that that isn’t true,” the voice says, as the game magically starts loading on the laptop without any prompt from the blonde.

“Oho, that’s against Shikamaru though. He's a pro. You, my friend, are shit out of luck,” Naruto is grinning, all his gloom dissipating as he picks up the laptop and brings it back to the desk. “I’m going to own you.”

“We’ll see about that,” the voice says, and Naruto cackles his glee. So, his stalker is competitive. Wonderful.

Chapter Text

They talk every day.

From the moment Naruto wakes up, he can open the lid of his laptop (he closes it overnight so he can have a little privacy) and just start talking. Sometimes it takes a few minutes, but eventually, his internet friend starts replying.

“I have you on your own laptop,” the voice informs one morning. Naruto knows the man has coffee in his hands, knows it doesn’t have any sugar in it, but a decent splash of milk. Naruto’s morning routine had pushed itself back earlier and earlier until he finally gave in – he turns the laptop on at 7 am every morning.  Right now, it’s about 7:34. He has showered and dressed, mindful of the view of the webcam. “It sits on my desk, open, whether I’m at work or at home.”

“Because you don’t have any coworkers,” Naruto affirms. He is juggling an energy drink and some toast, his feet up on the desk before him as he scrolls on his phone.

“Hmm. Who told you that?” There’s a little smirk in the man’s voice, which Naruto adores.

“You did,” Naruto says, rolling his eyes. “You said you’ve got your own lab or something, and nobody else has permission to enter or do work there.”

“Correct. You're a lot more attentive than you appear.” The man sounds pensive, as if carefully considering the boy. “That's right. And if anyone comes in, I disconnect the sound from the laptop and switch it to my earbuds.”

“That only works if you’re near the laptop though,” Naruto says, munching on his toast. “What if you’ve got a meeting, or you’re taking a shit in the executive bathroom or something?”

Pieces slowly fall into place about his stalker. For the most part, he seems genuine. The attention he’s giving Naruto doesn’t seem like it’s ever been placed on anyone else before – he’s confessed to building the program he has on Naruto’s computer quickly, intent on delivering the laptop on his birthday the year prior, though he hadn't informed the blonde of just when he'd come up on the other mans radar. He would share a little, but often pause and think carefully before revealing anything that could give him away. His name, his company, his address, his birthday… all of that stayed out of Naruto’s reach.

He does know the man works with computers, and that he’s more than a grunt wherever he works. In talking a little about money, he knows now that all the presents combined truly haven’t made a dent in the man’s wallet.

“Then I switch fully to my phone. My coworkers are used to seeing me glued to it – I’m not known for my sunny disposition or league of friends,” the voice says. Naruto could almost see the eye roll.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ve got some,” Naruto pokes, grinning at his webcam.

“Some,” his stalker admits. “Few and far between, though.”

Naruto spends the whole school day messaging him on Twitter as well.

“I wish you wouldn’t,” Shikamaru whispers, eyeing him from the opposite corner of the library table.

“It’s fine,” Naruto says, sending another message.

“It’s really, really not,” Shikamaru says, before sighing. “What does your sugar daddy want now? A nipple pic?”

“No,” Naruto says, laughing. “Do you think he’d like that though? I could send him one!”

“That would, technically, be child pornography,” Shikamaru says.

“But… what? Even if I took the photo?” Naruto asks, blinking.

“Of a minor, that is yourself? Yes.”

“Well, y’know… I feel like that would be the least of his concerns at this point,” Naruto says.

“Can he at least do anything worthwhile, like get us some booze?” Shikamaru asks, leaning forward on the desk conspiratorially.

“Oh. No.”

“No?”

“Yeah, he already said no,” Naruto says, sending off another message before putting his precious phone down. “He said he could, but he doesn’t like the idea of me drinking alone.”

“Oh, gross. So, he wants to be there while you’re drinking.” Shikamaru pulled a face.

“No! He said he doesn’t live close enough to help if I drink too much while mom is at work,” Naruto says, reaching out to poke Shikamaru’s cheek. “He doesn’t want my dumb ass getting alcohol poisoning and dying.”

“…Tell him to just give you beers, then,” Shikamaru mumbled, clearly thinking over Naruto’s words.

“He said ‘The day I find a good beer, I’ll consider it. Don’t hold your breath.'” Naruto spoke low and slow, trying to mimic his stalker's tone, but his attempt only made him laugh. “I think he prefers liquor like scotch and whiskey and stuff.”

“Huh." Shikamaru’s brows were furrowed, trying to make sense of his friend. “He almost sounds like he cares.”

“That’s cos he does,” Naruto claps back, picking up his phone once more. He doesn’t send a nipple photo, but he’s buzzed about the idea of it for a whole week. He tries to make a point of being shirtless in front of the webcam as much as he can stand, desperate to show his appreciation in some way. Tactfully, his stalker – or was it sugar daddy now? – doesn’t comment.

One afternoon he comes home from school and Kushina has news for him.

“An upgrade?” He asks, grabbing some juice from the fridge.

“A free upgrade!” She grins at him. “They came today, a hardware guy and a software guy. They put cameras everywhere!”

“What, like, actually everywhere?” Naruto lets her tug him out of the kitchen – which has a camera – to the hallway – which has a camera – to the bathroom – which has a camera. Even his bedroom has a camera, up in the corner, its little red light blinking at him. “Mom, I know you’re still anxious about this guy, but I don’t want the people at the security company watching me take a piss!”

“That’s the best part!” She beams at him as she crosses her arms, all haughty with whatever wisdom she is about to grace him with. “We got a second external camera, and the feed from that will be sent to the company. But all the internal cameras will have their feeds sent to your laptop!”

She points to his desk where his laptop is open and logged in, a window showing multiple camera feeds on full display. Only… he’d turned it off when he’d left.

“That’s… cool,” Naruto ekes out, pulling out his wheely chair. “How’d they get into my computer, though?”

“Oh, I gave him some birthdays and he guessed it or something,” Kushina flaps her hand dismissively at him. “But isn’t this great? Just leave your laptop running, and if anybody tries to sneak anything into your room again, we’ll have it on camera! He won’t even know we’ve got him until it’s too late!”

She cackles maniacally.

“I don’t really know if I have the hard drive space for that,” Naruto manages to say, uncertain. He isn’t sure how he feels about any of this. Should he tell his stalker? Or finally get video of the man and keep it to himself?

“The technician said the video would write over itself every 24 hours, so it doesn’t need too much space. If he brings something else, don’t hide it this time, alright?” Kushina stoops to drop a kiss on his head, before pulling a face. “You stink.”

“I was playing basketball with Shikamaru,” Naruto replies absently. "Well, I was playing. He was taking a nap."

“Whatever. Go have a shower while I get dinner on.” She ruffles his hair before leaving the room.

Naruto looks at the video of himself, sitting at the desk, on his screen, before looking up at the camera once more. He did not love this. But… at least his mom didn’t have his laptop password. Especially if he changed it. Nobody else would be able to see… things.

The dry shower cubicle and the shadowed square of his mother’s bed have their own corners on his screen, and he watches Kushina walk down the hallway – switch camera – through the living room – switch camera – and into the kitchen. There, she looks up at the camera, smiles, and waves at him. Stupidly, he almost waves back.

Instead, he tilts his laptop screen 90% of the way closed and slips out of the room to shower.

Normally, in the evenings, Naruto comes home from school and somewhat diligently powers through his homework. He gives his stalker a bit of grace to handle his own shit, finish his working day and have his meetings or after-work drinks or whatever, Naruto doesn’t know and doesn’t always pry. He has dinner with his mom and watches an episode of whatever show they’re watching together before sending her off to work.

Then, they normally spend all night talking. They play video games, relax, and learn all they can about each other - within reason, of course. His stalker seems to already know plenty about Naruto already and obviously doesn’t give over too much.

Tonight, though.

“Need to talk to you,” Naruto says urgently, almost as soon as his stalker says ‘Hello Beautiful’.

“Oh?”

“Something… happened. Today.” Naruto worries at his lip, not looking up at the laptop. He’s playing a game on the switch in his lap, leaning back in his desk chair.

“What kind of something?” is asked.

“Like… I’m not sure it’s a big deal.” Naruto rolls his eyes, forcing nonchalance. He’d already decided to tell the man – he didn’t want to risk him getting caught on camera and Kushina getting her hands on the video. “Can you, uh… can you still control my computer, or can you only see through the webcam?”

“We’ve got single-way video and two-way audio,” he says.

“Right, so, uhh… Mom got more cameras. In the house. See, there’s one up-” Naruto turns and points to the corner of the room. He’s certain the webcam can see it from the current angle it sits at.

“…I see.” His stalker sounds unimpressed.

Naruto wants to kick and scream and shout. He wants to bash the offensive technology off the roof, to provide solace to the man once more. He can’t stand the idea that this will tip them over the line, that this will be enough to make the man pull away – he cares about his life, that much has been made clear. Naruto is important, but not in a crazy, risk-it-all way. Not actually, and this certainly brought them a lot closer to being found out.

“It’s not that bad,” he quickly reassures. “The cameras aren’t connected to the outside world, okay? The feeds route through my laptop. So, like, I guess only I can see them? Not the security company, though they did install them. Oh, and we’ve got another camera outside, I think? I haven’t found it yet. Come to think of it, it might be outside my window, so like… y’know.”

There’s silence for far too long, and Naruto refrains from breaking it, biting his lip. His sigh of relief must be loud enough to get through the microphone when he finally gets a reply.

“Why would you tell me this?”

“What? Why wouldn’t I?” Naruto laughs around his answer, surprised.

“You don’t actually have any brain cells allocated to self-preservation, do you?” His stalker says with a sigh.

“I mean, y’know…” Naruto shrugged. “Pretty sure you aren’t going to hurt me. Like?”

“Oh, I know I’m not going to hurt you,” the stalker agrees. “But you have no reason to believe me when I say that. Quite the opposite, actually. Every time I give you a reason to trust me, you should actively be considering how I could be lying or leading you on.”

He sounds… almost angry?

“Yeah… But you aren’t?” Naruto’s brow rises questioningly.

There is a tongue click of pure annoyance that makes Naruto wheeze with laughter.

“Just don’t bring any presents to the house, asshole,” Naruto says after a minute, clutching his side. “Otherwise I’ll be seeing your face much sooner than your mysterious ass wants me to.”

“…Moron.” He can almost hear the shake of a head, paired with the subtle sigh of defeat. “And here I thought you might be desperate to see my face.”

“Oh, for sure!” Naruto winked playfully at his camera. “I mean, you’re practically my boyfriend, and I don’t even know your name!”

Oh wow, oh no, he was not meant to say that. All playfulness drops from him, replaced immediately with dread. Thankfully, he isn’t kept waiting long this time.

“Don’t you think you should have a more… age-appropriate boyfriend?”

“Pfft. Nobody my age could ever be as interesting as you,” Naruto replies, blushing.

“I’m serious,” he’s chastised.

“So am I,” Naruto claps back, before sticking out his tongue.

“Naruto, come on.” The man chuckles, but it's kind of sad. The sound hits Naruto like bricks, climbing up the back of his throat until he isn’t sure if he’s likely to start crying or just straight up pass out from the horrible weight of it. “This could never actually work. It was never intended to work, I can’t… You’re sixteen. You’re a child.”

“…I’m almost 17,” Naruto ekes out in a whisper.

“Beautiful…”

And it’s such a soft, depressing call of his petname that Naruto shudders, his feelings multiplying tenfold, overflowing from whatever fragile grip he has on them, overflowing from his face. He claps one hand out, almost closing his laptop as the other scrubs furiously at his face.

“You can’t just…” Naruto shoots up out of his chair, full of frantic desperation, pacing on whatever empty carpet he has in the small space between his bed and desk. “You can’t just treat me like this and expect me not to- to-”

"You’re right.” Another big sigh, as if the weight of the world lay on his stalker’s shoulders. Naruto expects more, some kind of admission of guilt, some form of apology, some acknowledgment of the cruelty dealt, or, please god, let there be some backtracking… but there was nothing else offered.

Naruto’s chest shakes with the labor of his breaths like he’s been struck.

Arguably, he has.

When the silence has stretched long enough – without apology or admission – Naruto jumps back over to his computer and slams down the laptop screen, cutting their connection as the laptop shuts itself down, but surely not before the angry clap travels down the line.

The violence of the action isn’t lost on him. His body roars to do more, to break other things and destroy, the neon grips of the Nintendo Switch bright in his eyes even through the haze of tears. But he can’t. He could never. They were gifts, tokens, and they meant so much more than their monetary value.

He knows it’s wrong.

He also knows how good this man makes him feel. How treasured, how important, how worthy. But because of the handful of sun revolutions that separated their respective births, indulging in each other was somehow a crime? Everything the man had done to him – for him – was just another count on his rap sheet, another year he'd spend in prison if he were caught?

It was all a load of bullshit.

But the biggest crime here was obvious to Naruto: that his stalker was willing to go nine-tenths of the way toward being with him – emotionally, financially –only to bail at the last. Did Naruto matter at all? Or was he just one of those amusement displays at the old mall – put a bit of money in and watch the puppet dance?

He kicked his desk chair – it was sturdy enough to take the blow.

All that did was make his foot hurt.

Great, add another thing to the list.

He threw himself on the bed, muted his phone, and shut the world out.

They’d been talking every day since June. It’s somewhere in early September when that contact cuts off completely – when the cameras are installed, when Naruto mistakenly makes a boyfriend claim, when he’s left high and dry, feeling like little more to his stalker than a plaything.  

He grows more bitter by the day.

He has to focus on end-of-year exams, he has to focus on studying, he has to focus on his looming seventeenth birthday. Between that, he pushes thoughts of his stalker from his mind, and tries to focus on his friends, on sports, on hobbies… on the things he used to like. But now, almost all of them have been morphed in his mind’s eye, touched by the opinions or thoughts of his stalker, and there’s not a thing in the world he can do to escape the presence of someone whose face he doesn’t even know.

If he’s still being listened to, or watched, there’s no sign of it. Not that there ever had been before. He doesn’t jump out of bed first thing in the morning like he used to. If anything, Kushina has to drag him out of it. He wakes each day already feeling sapped of energy, his eyes as heavy as his limbs. He both leaves his laptop open in the evening and avoids his own bedroom. He doesn’t talk to himself, as he’s prone to in the night, alone in their tiny apartment, and wanders off if Shikamaru calls. He avoids the lightless lens at the top of his laptop as if it’ll burn him.

It burns him anyway.

The idea that he’s being watched without engagement, his stalker happy with their newly interactionless paradigm, is almost as upsetting as the idea that he isn’t being watched at all.

He’s almost forgotten it all (he tells himself), he’s almost moved on, when October finally hits. It crosses his mind that he doesn’t know, and can't check, the exact day he first received a message from his stalker. It had been sometime a week before his birthday, but it had been such a strange little nothing message, that he hadn’t clocked a particular day.

He’s agonizing over that – over their anniversary, if you can call it such a thing – when he’s pulled in a completely different direction.

Jiraiya passes suddenly, the only family his late father had laid claim to. They drive out of state to attend the funeral and his great aunt Tsunade – from Kushina’s side, but a friend of Jiraiya’s – puts them up in her big house for the weekend. It’s a sober affair, for all Jiraiya was a life-of-the-party kind of guy. His publicist cries the most, though Naruto is hit hard when the man is finally interred, Kushina and Tsunade sniffling into tissues at his elbows.

He’s never owned a suit so nice as the one he wears that day, and he thanks his aunt profusely when she buys it for him, but the entire weekend feels hazy, like he’s watching a movie of someone else’s life. The interstate travel doesn’t feel like an adventure, the fancy bathroom at his aunts doesn’t inspire curiosity, and sleeping under a different roof doesn’t itch at him half as much as it normally does.

Jiraiya’s loss is the most devastating, but somehow they get worse news Monday morning, their return home delayed as they are called to stop by the publicist's office. There’s no question about the intent of the will – Naruto had been named sole heir, and had been such for almost a decade now. There was nobody to contest it, either. Jiraiya had spoken highly of his godson for so many years, intent he makes something of himself, that he do well in life. He’d specifically stated he would pay Naruto’s way through college on more than one occasion.

The publicist awkwardly informs them, executor at her elbow, that there is no money. Well, not none, but a far cry short of a full college tuition. Jiraiya’s abode was worth little, his savings accounts only scraping into 5 digits, and his monthly royalty checks only occasionally boasting over a grand.

It’s a lot less than they had been promised.

Naruto wants to be thankful there’s anything at all, but at the same time the sentiment is like ash in his mouth – if they’d only known that they’d be getting so little. He could’ve been working part-time, Kushina could’ve been saving more – they could’ve prepared! At the very least, Naruto could’ve been gunning for a scholarship!

The pallor on Kushina’s face speaks volumes, and Naruto clams up during the meeting, letting the adults handle it. Not for the first time feeling like a literal child in recent months, and hating every moment of it. The whiplash from his own emotions, swinging between greedy and angry to guilty and bereaved like a metronome, was exhausting. He’d been owed nothing, but he’d grown complacent, the flames of the promises lighting his path all suddenly blown out.

The executor isn’t even sure where or how to extract his fee. Naruto snorts derisively, offended by the capitalization of his godfather’s loss, like he wasn’t himself mourning the man’s fraudulent net worth.

They’re delayed another day, unpacking again at Tsunade’s, as Kushina tries to solve everything. They go to Jiraiya’s house and pour through all his belongings. Furniture and antiques are auctioned, what little they can salvage from the ill-maintained bachelor pad. Tsunade crinkles her nose, but Naruto thinks it’s homely. He’d assumed the eclectic and sparse décor were signs of a man who didn’t care for his money, not of a man who had less than he let others believe. Kushina tries to find hidden wealth, in his notes and scrawls, but all they find is a safe with two grand in it and trinkets of a fully lived life.

Kushina isn’t mean about what she lets Naruto keep, but she doesn’t encourage hoarding. He grabs a few notebooks and photo albums, and gets out from under her nose. The executor is charged with finishing the operation and tidying the bachelor pad for sale – renting. Naruto finally intervenes. He doesn’t know much about money, and little about owning property, but having land in this world is better than not. Rent the place, he insists, and the executor can get his fee over time.

When Kushina wavers, Tsunade nods. They can always sell it later.

It’s all in all a taxing affair that has Naruto sullenly doubting his own humanity on the six-hour drive home on Tuesday, an old photo album resting on his lap, wishing Jiraiya was alive for so many reasons, and telling himself only a sliver of that wish was to stave off the reveal of his borderline financial destitution.

It’s not fair, and he feels like he’s approaching seven not seventeen as he sits in the front seat of their banged-up old station wagon, turning off the interstate as the overhead streetlights drag repeatedly over his bare arms. The two grand from the safe is in Kushina’s wallet, and they don’t really talk about it. They pick up pizza on the way home, and when she pays with a dead man’s money, Naruto’s stomach twists in so many knots he isn’t sure he’s even hungry anymore.

They’re both exhausted when they get home, but Kushina still showers, changes, slathers on some makeup, and races out the door – she can’t miss another night of work.

He thinks to say she can afford to, but he has to wonder if that’s really the case.

The pizza is barely warm when they get home and still not yet cold when she flies out the door, leaving him alone in the quiet solitude of their dingy little apartment.

And all too quickly, it’s too quiet. The drone of the night doesn’t cut through their thin walls and closed windows enough, and it’s positively stifling. He leaves his half-eaten slice of pizza and moves to his bedroom, for want of something to do, and heaves open his window, relishing the hint of a breeze and the sounds of life that curl around him.

It still doesn’t feel right.

In their flurry to leave Friday afternoon, he’d left his laptop behind.

Open.

He’d never adjusted the settings, so no such thing as a screensaver has taken effect, and his room is lit by only three things – the laptop, the streetlight flooding through the window, and the little red flashing light in the corner of his room.

Everything yawns horribly before him, and there is little solace he can call upon except-

“Are you there?” he asks.

He wonders if he’s loud enough as his nails chip away at the cheap paint on his windowsill. He isn’t sure if he expects a reply, he just knows that he needs one.

“Yes.”

Naruto sags against the windowsill, relief slamming into him so hard it nearly shakes loose more sobs – and here he was thinking he’d cried himself dry these past few months, going into tear deficit these past few days. He turns around, dropping to sit on the floor under the window as he tries to compose himself.

“You were gone a few days,” his stalker continues tentatively, with Naruto still out of frame and not talking. “I was worried. Are you alright?”

“I… Yeah, there was a death in the family,” Naruto chokes out. His stalker was worried. How can he feel like crying and smiling at the same time? “We went to the funeral and… other stuff happened. It was a lot.”

“I’m sorry. Were you close?”

“Yeah, I mean… we didn’t see each other often, but he was for sure family." Naruto rubbed at his nose, before drawing his knees up to his torso and wrapping his arms around them. “And we talked on the phone a bunch, and emails and stuff. He was cool. He was… he always promised to pay for college. But there’s… there’s an issue with that, and… I’m not ungrateful or anything, I’m getting something, and that’s amazing, but it might not be enough and I… I’m just really tired.”

“That does sound exhausting, I’m sorry you’re going through that.”

“And I miss him,” Naruto sniffed.

“Of course you do.”

“And I missed you, too,” Naruto confesses, even if it’s almost a mumble into his sleeve. Of course, his room is small, his desk is right there, and he knows he’s heard.

“…Of course you did,” his stalker says after a big sigh. “I’m sorry, Naruto. I missed you, too. I… wasn’t sure about talking to you again. At all. I don’t like the idea of stringing you along. I’ve been trying to figure all that out before I dared contact you again.”

“Oh yeah?” Naruto asks, hope clawing insidiously at his insides.

“And I’m sorry to hear about your financial troubles,” his stalker continues. Naruto isn’t sure if he’s purposefully dodging elaborating, but he lets the man slide. He’s honestly glad he gets to hear his voice again at all. “I know your mother doesn’t earn a lot, so if you’d been promised college tuition, you must be devastated.”

“I miss him more,” Naruto emphasizes, grabbing the lip of his desk like he might tug the man’s elbow or sleeve, as if to make him see his earnestness.

“I know.” There’s so much confidence in his words. “Money is the last thing you care about, that much I’ve seen. But now your future is on the line.”

Naruto nods to the open air, even though he can’t be seen, squeezing his eyes shut. Yes, that was it, worded so much more succinctly than he could have ever. “You’re so fucken smart, man. Yeah, that’s it. I didn’t love him for whatever money he could’ve given me, but I was relying on his promises and now… It’s just messy. And it sucks.”

“And you miss him.”

“And I miss him,” Naruto nods.

“And you missed me.”

It’s a little teasing, and it’s exactly what Naruto needs to rattle not sobs but laughter out of his chest, watery though they may be. “I… yeah, I missed you, asshole. You didn’t even message me on our anniversary. So rude.”

“On our…” Laughter, crisp and beautiful, bursts from Naruto’s speakers, making him grin and finally haul himself up, finally sit at his desk chair as he soaks in the mirth of his strangest connection. Naruto’s stalker laughs more than he ever has before, and it unwinds and soothes every broken ripple in Naruto’s chest, turning him into a pile of goo, his grin lit only by the screen in front of him. “You- My God. Such a transgression on my part, I’m sooo sorry.”

“Well, I just thought,” Naruto scratches at the nape of his neck giddily, soaking in the few chuckles that still trail down the line. “My birthday is in two days, and you never even asked me what I wanted!”

“I wasn’t sure I should be gifting you anything anymore,” the voice shifts to a more serious tone, though the lilt of his smile still comes through. “After the last time we spoke… I didn’t think it was a good idea to be encouraging you to think of this… relationship as anything more than it actually was.”

“…And now?” Naruto asked, helplessly baited by the man’s words.

“And now… I still don’t want to lead you on, but…” There is a long pause – he can feel the man juggling his words, reassembling them, trying to perfect them. The air is tight with tension, because what follows that ‘but’ will shape their so-called relationship going forward. “…you’ve met my intensity without blinking. I don’t think it’s fair that I… try to dictate this exchange from above. I’m going to try to treat you as more of an equal because I realized… I’m not the only one with something to lose here.”

“Jeez…” Naruto breathes, heart fluttering in abject delight. “You could just say you love me, y’know.”

There’s a hard snort, amusement tinged with the relief that his words hadn’t been poorly received. “Let’s save that for your next birthday, hmm?”

“Okay, bet.” Naruto says, laughing. It’s the lightest he’s felt in a long time, and he feels like crying again, damnit. Crying from relief though, from mended bridges, from the man coming back, from not being abandoned. He crosses his arms on the desk, hoping he cleverly masks whatever leaks out of his eyes as tears of laughter, even as his chuckles slowly die off.

His skin prickles with the chill finally circulating his room, but his core is only warmth.

“All that being said,” his stalker continues, clearing his throat pointedly, “and remembering everything you have found out about me… Good evening, Beautiful. It’s your birthday in two days. What would you like?”

He echoes the script of their first exchange, and Naruto sags even further. The message is clear. Money isn’t an issue. Size or scale isn’t an issue. Theoretically, anything was in bounds, so long as it didn’t mean the final reveal – a name or a face. Maybe he should ask for college tuition? Maybe the man expects him to. Maybe the man is already planning ways to give it to him, figuring out how to enact a drastic transfer of funds with no name attached.

And yet…

He reaches out, his fingers alighting on the smooth square of the trackpad, warm beneath his fingertips, and he wants something else. His future hadn’t suddenly looked bleak when attending college seemed like a lost cause, or at least a difficult one. His future had looked bleak for months.

“Anything?” he asks.

“Within reason.” Is the perfectly reasonable, hedged response.

“Don’t leave me again,” Naruto says, glancing up at the webcam.

It’s childish.

He doesn’t care.

“Naru-”

“Promise me,” He’s firm. Desperate. “That you won’t leave me again.”

“…Okay. I promise.”

There’s no counter promise, there’s no request that Naruto swear something the same or similar. He wonders how seriously the promise will be taken, but at the end of the day, it exists. And it’s more than he could’ve ever hoped for.

“Good,” he hums into his arm. Everything feels a lot more settled, resolved, and tied together than it had when he stepped foot in the room. His fingers tease the trackpad playfully, like it’s the palm of a long-lost lover. “Hey, when’s your birthday?”

“July.”

“Ah shoot, we missed it,” Naruto groans. “You should’ve told me.”

“Remember for next time,” Is the only advice he receives.

“I will,” Naruto says with a smile.

“… My brother bought me a new car this year.”

Naruto blinks, before slowly sitting up. New information, offered willingly. Not the car, but a brother. “Oh yeah?”

“The red is a bit too bright for my tastes, but it’s got the quietest engine, which is nice.”

“Doesn’t sound like he knows you too well,” Naruto pokes gently, resting his chin on his hands.

“He tries. I have the same trouble buying him gifts. We’ve got enough money to buy whatever we want, so it’s tricky to actually get anything meaningful.”

“You should focus on experiences, then,” Naruto says, nodding sagely. “Take it from a moneyless chump. Spending time with the people you care about is a lot more rewarding than buying them gifts they don’t need or want.”

“…You know, you could be on to something with that,” his stalker admits, his tone considerate. “What do you suggest?”

“A trip to the water park, of course!” Naruto jumps up excitedly. His stomach growls a warning, the rumble competing with his stalker's snarky chuckle. “No, I’m serious! Hang on a second, let me go get some more dinner and I’ll explain.”

Naruto races out of the room, grinning.

On October 10^th, he turns 17.

He wakes up slowly, not to an alarm but to the gentle croon of Happy Birthday, low and sweet. He’s fallen asleep with his laptop open and woken to a serenade. He grins like a damn lunatic as he sits up, wiping the sleep from his eyes. He spends the whole morning warm, laughing as he banters with his stalker, talking absolute shit – it’s the nicest morning he’s had in a while.

At school, his inbox has messages every time he opens his phone. His stalker struggles a bit when Naruto doesn’t reply fast enough, but he’s clearly set himself a challenge to message the blonde as much as physically possible today. Sometimes they’re idle musings, sometimes he whines about a colleague, and sometimes he just sends groans or random emojis. Naruto lets the device buzz and buzz in his pocket, ignoring any teacher, friend, or deskmate who tries to draw attention to his popularity.

His stalker doesn't leave him alone, and it's everything he's ever wanted.

“Look, I’m happy you two have made up… Maybe,” Shikamaru groans when they have a moment alone, their usual study period at the library. The phone still buzzes, and Naruto has purposefully set it on the hard table to piss off his friend. He’s the only one who knows that Naruto is still commuting with his stalker, the only one he can trust not to take matters into his own hands. “But what is this, separation anxiety? Or is he just trying to monopolize your attention on your birthday? Is he literally trying to scare off all your frien- Christ, did he fucking tell you to put it on the table?”

Naruto finally relents, picking up the phone and placing it on his soft pencil case, significantly dampening the noise. “Nah, nothing like that.”

“Right,” Shikamaru deadpans. “And what did you get today? A PS5? A gaming PC? Tickets to Fiji? I’m your plus one.”

“You’d really take a plane to Fiji with me?” Naruto asks, smirking.

He can see Shikamaru’s life flash before his friend’s eyes as he weighs the pros and cons of an international flight with the blonde. Weighs the pros and cons of several long hours trapped in a metal tube with someone notoriously fidgety and high energy, someone absolutely buzzing with excitement over their first international jaunt.

“Yeah… no. No, thank you,” Shikamaru finally says, shaking his head.

“That’s what I thought.” Naruto titters a smug little laugh, dimly mindful of the imposed solace of the library around them.

“So, what did he get you then?” Shikamaru asks again, after a quiet minute.

“Oh… you don’t want to know,” Naruto replies, clearly trying to deflect. He isn’t sure Shikamaru would appreciate his request at all.

“Aaaaand that means I have to know,” Shikamaru groaned, dropping his pencil down on his work. “Come on, out with it.”

Naruto’s grateful for his self-imposed arbiter, he is. He knows he’s stupid sometimes, and he’s grateful his friend doesn’t judge him, stop him, force him, or anything like that. Someone who offers advice, tells him off, but rarely, if ever, steps in. Someone who respects that it’s Naruto’s life and lets him make the mistakes he’s going to. It’s why Shikamaru knows about the continued situation with the stalker, because Naruto trusts him not to go screaming to his mother or the police unless danger was immediate and obvious. He knows this whole situation is testing Shikamaru’s restraint, his friend convinced of the danger of his invasive internet companion, but every time Shika does nothing, Naruto’s faith in him doubles and triples.

Shikamaru has opted in as Naruto’s laziest warning system, only ready to go off at the last possible moment. But, he can’t do that without information.

“I asked him not to leave me alone,” Naruto says softly, dropping his own pencil and leaning back in his chair.

There’s silence.

Naruto looks up, wincing as he sees Shikamaru’s jaw hanging open in shock.

They both look down as the phone buzzes.

It’s an itchy silence. Naruto starts to doubt himself, hearing his own words echoing in his head for how they must sound – I told my stalker not to leave me alone. He watches as Shikamaru physically recomposes himself, smoothing a hand over his mouth as he tries to… what? Dust off the mental lecture that’s been brewing, bust a gasket and finally shout at Naruto about his stupidity, or has he finally realized Naruto is just that dense and it’s time to rid himself of the responsibility of the teenager who would run into the arms of a predator.

Every other minute, the phone buzzes, the muted clatter of it inordinately loud between them.

It’s not a mistake, Naruto knows. Every time the phone buzzes, it soothes his nerves like the deep handling of a massage, as if its vibrations could travel down into the table, up his arm, and rain loving pulverization into his tense shoulders.

“Okay.”

Naruto’s eyes shoot up. Dimly, he feels the soft smile that has unwittingly crawled its way onto his face drop.

…Okay?

Shikamaru picks up his pencil, brings it back to his paper, and writes a few more words.

“Okay?” Naruto asks tentatively.

The phone buzzes.

“Okay,” Shikamaru agrees with a little nod.

…Okay.

The word tingles through Naruto. There’s no admonishment, there’s no chastising. There aren’t even any visual cues of concern. Shikamaru gets on with his homework, and Naruto… feels more seen by his friend than ever before. Trusted. His decisions were deemed not as terrible as Naruto assumed his friend would deem them, some small part of him certain his weakness for this man would be his downfall and Shikamaru was only waiting to pull him back from the ledge. And yet, here they were. Shikamaru was the smartest man he knew, and he had just…

The phone buzzes.

He picks it up, his fingers shaking with unbridled giddiness as he bangs out a quick message.

YuzumakiNarts: This is harassment, asshole.

He laughs under his breath when he receives the middle finger emoji back.

Chapter Text

It’s late Sunday night – technically Monday morning – in the middle of November, and Naruto is grumbling his way through the final touches of an essay he’d neglected slash forgotten about when his speakers clutter noisily, and a voice speaks.

“Woah, what’re you doin’ up?”

“Me?” Naruto shoots back with a laugh. “Oh, right. How was your staff party?”

“Mmmfine.”

“Well, I was just finishing an assessment I totally remembered I had to do,” Naruto says, linking his fingers and flexing them outward, savoring the satisfying cracks from his knuckles and shoulders.

“Frucken teachers givin ya homework on a Sunday,” his stalker slurs, making Naruto pause, a smile catching at the corner of his lips.

“Hey, are you drunk?”

“…Might be.”

Naruto laughs, saving the file and closing it, suddenly much more awake than moments prior.

“Don’t go getting any ideas. ‘M goin to bed.”

“Oh, sure,” Naruto agrees, picking up his laptop and carrying it to his bedside table. “Bed, which is what, a couple of feet away from the laptop you’re talking to right now? But that’s okay, we can go to bed.”

He turns to flick off his bedroom light, but he comes back to make sure his curtain is open. Between the laptop and the streetlights, he knows he can be seen quite well from the bed, and if he faces the wall, none of that light will keep him awake.

As he’s moving about the room, in his pajama pants and bare torso, he hears his stalker groan.

“Fuck, I would love to go to bed with you.”

Fire singes up his spine, and Naruto swallows reflexively, awed by the sheer want that drips through his speakers.

“Yeah?” he asks in little more than a whisper, crawling onto his bed. Consciously, he arranges the laptop and pillows in the way he’d once done months ago, in the way he sometimes dreams of doing, or sometimes does when the laptop is firmly closed. With two pillows at his back, he settled in a slight recline in the middle of his single mattress, feet on the floor.

He isn’t too brazen, but he starts playing with the drawstring of his pants with nervous intent, the tease of his own fingers against his navel positively sinful.

He opens the surveillance window so he can see if, by some fluke, his mother comes home early. He prays she won’t.

“Mmhmm,” his stalker replies absently. There’s the distinct sound of dress shoes hitting the ground and a few grunts of exertion. “I don’t really like cuddling, but the way you and that body pillow-”

He cuts off almost comically.

“Keep going,” Naruto encourages, looking at the lens as he thumbs the hem of his pajama pants. He feels a little silly, splayed for attention like this, but it’s the attention he wants, and he hopes he’s about to receive it.

“…Huh?”

“I said, keep going.” Naruto rolls his eyes.

“…I have no idea what I was- Are you-” His stalker trails off, but his voice is a little high.

Excited.

“Just thinking about bed,” Naruto says, biting his lip. He doesn’t feel all that smooth or sexy, even though he’s spent sometime these past few months purposefully playing more sports and eating less junk. There’s a hint of muscle distinction under his fingertips, as he curls his nails through his snail trail. He drops his head back, blocking out the view of the screen for a moment and soaking himself in darkness, hoping it’ll balance his sizzling nerves. “Just… say something, asshole. Anything.”

“I… You look…” There’s a note of awe in the man’s voice before he sucks in a breath. “Stunning.”

Naruto laughs. He can’t help it. He feels silly, and indulged, and crazy, and the fire in his belly is bubbly and he doesn’t know… he’s never done anything like this before, with anyone, and he isn’t sure what to say or how to-

“I told you my birthday was in July.”

Naruto laughs harder, his chest light, and finally brings his head up to look at the laptop again. “Yeah, well, we missed it, didn’t we?”

“We did,” is the emphatic response, before there’s a somber tone shift. “You know you don’t have to-”

“I want to,” Naruto says firmly. Daringly, he reaches lower, running his thumb over his budding erection, prominent through his thin pants.

“Fuck. Well, alright then.”

Naruto palms himself slowly, letting his eyes slip closed, hanging on every breath he can hear. And he can hear them, as his stalker settles before his screen, watching him. The man had a sensitive, expensive microphone.

“If I were there…”

“You could be,” Naruto says, prying open an eye.

“No. No, I… Hey, don’t do that. I’m in no state to drive.”

“No, I guess you aren’t…” Naruto muses, biting his lip. “Stay there, then.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Are you going to… Y’know…” Naruto gestures to himself.

“Yeah, way ahead of you there, Beautiful.”

It’s exciting. It’s so exciting that Naruto’s hands are sweating, that he feels his cock jump with those words. He muffles an appreciative groan, letting his head drop back against the pillows.

“Fuck.”

“Can you keep talking?” Naruto asks, drawing his spare hand up his torso and back down. “Please?”

“Uhh, yeah. But I… Shit, I’m not sure what to say.”

“Are you that tongue-tied?” Naruto snarks. “Haven’t you seen this all before?”

“This is different.”

“How?” Naruto asks. “Tell me how.”

“You know ho- tch. It’s different because of the intent.” His stalker takes a deep, steadying breath. If Naruto stills his thundering heart a moment, he can pretend he can hear this whisper of cloth as an arm moves in tandem with his own, slow and rhythmic, up and down a hard length still hidden by clothes. “Because back then, you didn’t know I was watching. Now, it’s like you’re putting on a show. Just for me.”

“Just for you, huh?” Naruto muses.

He pauses to observe himself, to try to see his own body through the point of view of his laptop. He trails his hand back down his torso, skimming over the little dusty mound of his nipple, the slight bulge of his pectoral, the flab that hides his abs, until the points of his fingers dip below his waistband.

“You’re a tease.”

“Mmhmm,” Naruto affirms, lifting the elastic with two strong fingers, toying back and forth along the hem of his pants. He peers through the shade of his pants at his own turgid length, standing tall where he lets it. It’s a view he’s used to, and he enjoys the idea that the camera is just not at the right angle. “Keep talking. I like hearing your voice.”

“You like hearing my voice? Who would have guessed.” Naruto rolls his eyes at the snark, before lifting his other hand.

He draws it underneath his pants, splaying his fingers along his length before grasping it. He thumbs over his piss slit, letting spikes of white-hot pleasure shoot through his body like errant pinballs. His thighs tighten, muscles rippling as he rises on the balls of his feet, and he doesn’t even try to restrain the lewd groan that overflows from his lips.

“Fuuuuuck,” his stalker groans, almost as if in pain, and Naruto peeks over ruddy cheeks, attempting to make eye contact with the man – or as close as he could come to it. He wonders if his groan had hit as hard as that retaliatory, sinfully drawn-out expletive. Because it does hit him. It loops around him like rich honey, makes his toes curl, makes his heart beat faster.

Because he’s the cause of that groan. It’s a direct response to his display. It hammers into him – you’re doing this. You’re exciting him. You’re pleasing him. You’re doing a good job. He’s enjoying this, enjoying you.

“Let me see.”

There’s an urgency in those huffed words that is more than enough to have Naruto hastily pushing his pajama pants down his thighs, any embarrassment as his cock whips back to slap his stomach completely overshadowed by his eagerness. Destroyed by the soft puffs of praise that rise from his laptop.

“Beautiful.”

Naruto pushes his cock down and lets it spring back up, biting his lip. Dimly, he wonders if balls are sexy, as he pulls them up and adjusts them, making sure they aren’t in the way.

“What would you do,” Naruto pants, taking hold of himself properly, and swiveling his lips slightly to ensure it’s all in full view. The light of the screen shines half on his dick, leaving the other half in shadow. His knuckles are painted white by the artificial glow as he strokes himself. “If you were here?”

“Ravage you,” is the unhinged answer that makes Naruto’s heart jump into his throat. He squashes it down with some laughter, but his stalker continues. “I would suck you off, as I slid my fingers inside your ass, spreading you wide so that I could bend you over that shitty desk of yours and fuck you until your mother came home.”

Naruto’s cheeks must be crimson, and he groans in response, heat pooling quickly in his navel at the image of someone, anyone, coveting him so desperately. “Why don’t you?” he pants.

“God, fuck, why don’t I.” There are grunts mixed in with his words, and Naruto is no longer imagining any steady movement down the line – it's clear as day that the man’s hand chases Naruto’s, running up and down an equally hard length. “You’d let me.”

Naruto groans again, hastily kicking his pants off his ankles and spreading his legs as wide as he can, cradling his balls with his free hand. He can’t quite finagle an angle with a clear view of his cheeks, but for a roaring second he really wants to, wants to contort every which way to bare every angle of himself.

“Yeah, I would. I’d let you do anything to me. Everything.”

Naruto’s hips bounce ceaselessly, forcing his erection through the tight hole of his fist, chasing sensation as he pants – at the same time, he’s trying to muffle himself, to land on the quietest bedsprings. Another’s heated breathing echoes around him, from a mouth much closer to a microphone, hot huffs seeming at war with his own, fighting for who can be louder, more breathless, more labored by their intensity. Louder still is the raucous symphony of clapping flesh.

Naruto arches and shudders and swears under his breath as he busts out every solo move in his admittedly small repertoire – pushing himself with indulgent flares of pleasure, like swiping his index finger over his slit, squeezing just under the head, and toying with that little thread of sinew that connected it all.

“Slow down.” He’s admonished around huffed laughs. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why would I slow down?” Naruto asks, cracking his eyes open once more, though reluctantly complying. As he slows his grip, his heart doesn’t get the message and continues to beat thunderously in his chest. It’s so out of sync, it almost makes him dizzy. “Don’t you want to see me cum?”

“I do, but it’s not a race. Don’t you want to cum with me?”

Obscene.

Naruto clenches himself to stave off a sudden finish, throwing his head back to groan loudly at the thought, ghostly tendrils of an oh-so-tangible orgasm plucking at his nerves like live wires.

“Wouldn’t that be something,” his stalker continues, voice husky, dropping in the wake of Naruto’s helpless lust. “But you’re not going to last very long, are you?”

“Sh-shut up,” Naruto hisses, swallowing thickly. His thighs were damn near quaking with need, his entire being single-mindedly occupied with completion. He can feel his heartbeat everywhere – in his dick, under his palm, in his chest, in his ears, in the tips of his freaking toes. “If you wanted to cum together so bad, it’d be a hell of a lot easier if you were here.”

“Don’t think about that. Just think about me.”

Naruto snorts. “The fuck is there to think about – I don’t know what you look like, and I don’t know your name. I don’t get to see you jerking off. The only thing I get is your fucking voice.”

“That’s right, Beautiful. My voice, which you love so much. But fine, have it your way. If you’re that desperate to finish… Go ahead.”

“…Really?” Naruto’s grip is restrained. He’s stroking with just his thumb and middle finger, teasing but not going overboard.

“Sure. Let me see you cum, knowing you’re thinking about me.”

“Asshole,” Naruto grumbles. But it’s all the permission he needs to take a firm grip once more. Slightly more controlled, though. A little tighter than he’s prone to as he imagines how that sinful voice would handle him, imagines what it would feel like to have the man looming over him, stroking him to completion as he-

“Good boy,” it’s little more than a murmur, possibly not even meant for his ears. Still, Naruto hears it, and it makes his heart sing. “Just like that.”

He’s doing it right. It feels amazing, just a little bit foreign, and the praise hits him perfectly. Eyes closed, he really could drown in the dream of a physical encounter, imagine eyes burning into him, soft lips whispering their flattery directly into his ear. He’s so lost in the waking dream of a counterpart, that his spare hand reaches out to grasp for a hip to steady against, to pull closer.

His hand finds nothing, but he’s not deterred.

“I’m close,” he warns, as the fire of his impending release laps ceaselessly at his core. He’s balanced precariously on the balls of his feet, his hips lifted entirely from the bed and his chin burrowing into his chest, muscles straining to bring him physically high enough to crest the swells of the torrential whirlpool of ecstasy ready to collapse upon him and-

“Cum for me.”

Naruto bites back a shout as everything snaps taut, thick ribbons of cum plastering his chest as he shudders through the most rapturous orgasm he’s ever had. His toes cramp, making him half turn into his pillow and bite it as he jerks, distractedly trying to straighten and alleviate the sudden pang while still lost in the delirium of his finish, choppily jerking out the last few shots of white before dropping bonelessly to his mattress.

Hell, his ears are ringing. He feels like an overcooked noodle. He doesn’t even mind that he’s coated in himself, he’s honestly too stunned.

But he isn’t deaf.

He hears the man finish shortly after him with a delightful little gasp and a string of grunted curses. Had he more than a handful of neurons firing, Naruto would have giggled. Instead, he just lays there, wondering comically if there’s steam coming off of him.

“Did you pass out?” His stalker finally asks, sounding equal parts amused and exhausted.

“Hmm, almost,” Naruto wills his jaw to work and finally lets out the faintest giggle. “Hey… can you come over next time? I wanna touch you.”

“…You creep.”

“Hey! I’m not the stalker!” Naruto claps back before laughing. 

“You think I’m stalking you?” asked the stalker, sounding confused.

“Are you not?”

“...Am I?” 

Naruto laughs again. This is too insane. All of it is insane. Okay, maybe he’s overtired. “Maaaaan, I need to go to bed.”

“Yes, you do. Not like that, though. Your mother will be home in a few hours and-” He cuts off, and Naruto lifts his head for a moment, looking curiously at his laptop. “Hn. Stalker, huh?”

“Yes, but you’re my favorite,” Naruto says with a playful wink.

“... You have other stalkers? No. No, you don’t, I would know if-” Another curious silence. “...Hn.”

“See? Stalker.”

“Oh, button it. And wipe off that pretty pearl necklace before your mother comes home.” 

Naruto doesn’t have to look. His pretty pearl necklace is cooling. He’s painfully aware of how much spunk is covering his torso.

He sits up – there his ears go ringing again – and picks up a hand towel at the foot of his bedside table. Not the best, but not the worst. He wipes himself off and collapses, snuggling the duvet up under his chin, murmuring goodnight –

“Goodnight, Beautiful.”

- and closing the laptop.

He wakes just as warm as he’d gone to sleep, feeling fuzzy and full and all kinds of… satisfied? He pries open the laptop, boots it up, and murmurs a greeting. He doesn’t feel like jumping out of bed, showering, and eating breakfast so he can sit attentively at the desk. There’s chill outside the covers, and he doesn’t want it to eat at the perfect mood he finds himself in. He mumbles and mutters and laughs into his pillow, his hair askew, feeling positively love drunk.

He’s never been happier in his life.

Someone else is hung over and grumbly, but somehow not in terrible spirits either, humoring Naruto’s early morning rambles, admittedly with short replies.

Naruto pushes back the start of his day until Kushina literally comes through the front door half an hour later, whispers a hasty goodbye, and closes his laptop.

“You’re up late!” She says as he slips into the hallway.

“I was finishing an assessment until late last night,” Naruto replies. At least it isn’t a lie. “Can I shower first?”

“Go ahead,” she says with a huff, turning back for the kitchen. “It’s chilly out there! You want some bacon and eggs?”

“Sounds good!”

He showers quickly, relishing the cascade of warm water, cleaning himself very attentively as a highlight reel from the night before runs on repeat in his brain. It’s stupid, he knows… It had been a solo hand job, just like every other time he’d done it, but somehow… company had made it a million times better. And it wasn’t even real company, not hands or mouth or another cock, but… oh god, how much better will it be when it is?

He bites his lip more than once in the shower, forcibly reigning himself in. He can already hear the soft teasing in the back of his mind ‘My, ever the horny little teenager, aren’t you?’ Thankfully, he normally has more than enough time at home alone to play with himself. He has little to no desire to jerk off in the shower with his mother around… Normally.

When he finally bounces into the kitchen, breakfast is half-plated, and he digs in as Kushina finishes scrambling some eggs. She comments on his mood, but he just shrugs her off.

“Back in my day, assessments weren’t so fun,” she mused, smiling around her food.

“Ah, y’know… Getting them finished can be pretty satisfying. Maybe I even did a good job, who knows.”

“I should hope so,” she said, finishing her orange juice. “Especially if you’re gunning for a scholarship.”

“Listen, mom,” He reached over, patting her hand. Such subjects had bred tension between them these past few weeks. “Don’t worry so much, alright? Everything’s going to work out, I promise.”

“Maybe I should pick up more shifts,” she said, gnawing on her lip. “Maybe you should get a part-time job? Ahhh, I don’t know. I’d feel a lot better if Jiraiy’s flat had been rented out, but it’s still vacant.”

“Mom, please. It’s fine, I promise,” Naruto squeezes her hand. How can he convey to her that she doesn’t need to worry, that he has absolute confidence in a mysterious benefactor? He knows, without question, that his stalker was already finagling things on his end, making plans to anonymously provide for Naruto, whichever college he decides upon. Not only is it inherent in the nature of their relationship and well within the man’s means, but he’s literally been hinting, soothing Naruto’s anxieties.

“Maybe we should ask that sleazeball to pay for your college,” she says with a sneer.

It’s a joke.

It’s a joke, but he flinches. Half because he doesn’t think sleazeball is an apt nickname, and half because the only real reply he has for that is ‘we could’. He can only imagine how well that remark would go over though.

He doesn’t retort at all, and she turns to watch him. Study him. Panic rolls through him, but he’s tongue-tied. He has no idea what to say, especially as she draws her hand out of his.

“Naruto Uzumaki…” she says, tone low with warning.

“We could?” Naruto squeezes out, laughing nervously. “I mean, we’d have to find him first and stuff, and… oh god, is that the time? I gotta get going, my bus-”

He dodges around the table, dropping his plate in the sink, picking up his bag, stomach on the floor, but he isn’t fast enough.

“Uh, no! Get back here, young man!” Kushina stands, following him.

“Mom, my bus, if I miss it-”

“Naruto!”

He stops, hand on the door handle. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. His shoulders are hiked defensively, but he waits. He’s a good boy, he doesn’t run away from his mother. He can’t, not when she busts out that furious tone of voice. Her fingers curl around his shoulder as she tugs him around to face him. He lets himself be turned, but his eyes are cast down. He doesn’t want to look her in the face. Aaaand… that’s more than a confession, right there.

“You’ve been… have you… has he…” She’s panicking, her voice rising with every sentence attempt.

“Mom, calm down, it’s okay,” he says as non-threateningly as he can, reaching up to cup her elbows.

“No! No, I will not calm down! Has he been here again? What did he give you? Why didn’t you tell me, why didn’t you do anything!” She’s in his face, screaming, shaking his hands off, and poking him in the chest.

“Mom! No, nothing, he hasn’t, I haven’t got anything!” He fights every accusation, talking over her, trying to be heard, but the questions are flooding out of her, and it's hard. Finally, he snaps at her. “You’ve got it wrong!”

Her chest heaves as she glares at him. He… isn’t used to that. He deflates because he just isn’t sure how to… he doesn’t know how to tell her. Not everything, but just enough to get her off his back.

He’s 17. Just shy of 18, just shy of legally joining the armed forces, just shy of being a genuine, bonafide adult. Didn’t that count for anything?

“He’s not… He’s not a bad guy, Mom.”

He has lived 17 years, and if he lives 17 more, he will regret nothing he ever says more than those words.

The silence is thick enough to chew as Kushina processes his words. Then all hell breaks loose.

She shouts so loudly, grabbing at him, trying to just… push the understanding into his head. Predator, pedophile, dangerous, and idiot child get thrown around at the speed of light. Naruto can’t get a word in – he tries. He tries to calm her, but she’s hysterical. Her accusations and slander sticks to him, drags him down, sets off his own anxiety, and – certain they’re only going to devolve from there – he does the only thing he can think of.

He tries to escape.

If he’s lucky, he can still make the bus.

He races out of the apartment with his bag, on the verge of tears himself, gulping his breaths, but… One of their neighbors, Asuma, is on the landing with a cigarette. Whether he was eavesdropping or just caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, when Kushina shrieks for the man to grab him… Asuma is a traditional man, parents are law, and he’s seized.

The whole apartment complex comes alive, rallying for Kushina and, seemingly, against Naruto. Police are called, and Asuma’s pregnant fiancee Kurenai comes to soothe his hysteric mother, to get an explanation about what’s going on and coordinate the response. Asuma manhandles Naruto back into the apartment with a gruff apology. The door is left open as a half dozen milling adults come to ‘help’. Voices berate Naruto, accusing him of the damage he’s doing to his poor mother, and of his idiocy. He feels like he’s on some shitty, low-budget reality TV show.

The police are still on the way when somebody goes for his laptop.

The one with 24 hours of surveillance of the entire house… including his bedroom.

Asuma has only the momentary warning of his sudden stiffening before Naruto bolts ahead of the individual. There’s a flurry of reflexive action, from people well aware of how those with things to hide behave to those that just react, but nobody is quite fast enough.

Fear lines every fiber of his being as he grabs his laptop from the nightstand, turns, desperate, and spots his desk.

He smashes it over the edge of the desk, the device snapping almost cleanly in two.

The manhandling is worse now. Asuma and another man steer him back into the living area, and a firm hand on his shoulder keeps him in his chair. He lets them, weak as his panic subsides. He won’t let them into his phone, and not even Shikamaru knows his passcode.

They’re safe.

Kushina sobs uncontrollably. She thinks the worst. She looks at him like he’s the monster, the predator, in the same beat that she cries over what gullible prey he is.

He feels like a monster, stomach twisting in on itself. Was he wrong? Was he crazy? He’s snapped a laptop in two and would do so much more, to keep his stalker’s secrets.

He doesn’t fight any further.

He can’t. Certainly, he can’t fight all of them. He sits and waits. Let the police come, let them interrogate him, let them try to steer him straight. He won’t let them, and he’ll give them nothing. He owes that much, for all the trust his stalker has shown him.

The man with a brother, a garage full of cars, and more laptops and computers than Naruto could dream of. The man who gave him gifts, who gave him solace, gave him respect and care and compliments. Naruto would give them nothing.

Somebody whispers about the hard drive, turning the broken laptop over in their hands.

There’s an industrial magnet on the fridge, is what Naruto thinks. A relic from an old science project. 

The fight returns.

Another minute fraught with frantic action later, the magnet has glanced against the hard drive, and he’s on the floor, Asuma’s knee digging into his back. He hopes it’s enough. It has to be.

He aches from being pressed into the floor when the police finally arrive. His eyes follow the laptop as it’s taken into evidence and moved off to the squad car. The investigators, the same ones from earlier that year, come soon after. Everyone seems to know what’s going on, which is just as annoying as everyone knowing that he’s being an idiot.

He’s petulantly silent as the hours tick on. As neighbors rotate through their apartment, alongside cops and investigators. He’s silent as they ask questions, as they admonish him, going back and forth between interrogating and lecturing. Lunchtime comes and goes, Kushina paces and cries and begs him to cooperate.

He doesn’t.

He doesn’t even try to do so – he doesn’t remotely think he should. They don’t sway him, not in the slightest. His phone is taken, his bedroom window is locked, and he’s finally left in his room while they figure out what to do with him.

He turns on a gaming console only to discover the Wi-Fi is off, and he doesn’t have an ethernet cable in his room. He’s completely cut off from the outside world.

From everyone.

From him.

He sleeps restlessly if he sleeps at all. He tosses and turns, cold without his duvet but too hot the moment he covers himself. Kushina doesn’t go to work, and the soft light of the living area cuts under his door. He jimmies the window as quietly as he can, but Asuma has nailed it shut. He knows his mother won’t go to bed. If she sleeps, it’ll be on the couch, where she can watch the front door.

All evening, the front door opens and closes, people coming and going. In between, he can hear murmuring and crying. He gets a whole pizza at dinner, but it’s a solemn affair instead of a treat. He uses the bathroom when he has to, and if he meets Kushina’s eyes – they’re puffy and red – neither says anything.

He aches. He barely picks at his food. He hates everything, and everyone, and he can’t understand why they’re interfering like this. Well, he can. He’s seen videos, he knows about child trafficking, he knows about the dangers of men like his – but his would never.

They’re all generalizing the most valuable relationship he’s ever had, reducing it to a numbers game only to decree his stalker is breaking the rules.

And it’s breaking his heart.

He’s afraid his stalker will come for him and meet his mother’s army, fear mounting with every hour, worried the affliction of his curious radio silence would be too much for the man. No replies on Twitter, no chatting in the evening, nothing. Naruto was just thankful they’d spoken that morning, otherwise he knew he would feel even sicker, leaving the man in the lurch after such a wonderful night.

He watches the sun come up that day, orange light slowly overtaking his room, devoid of laptop and phone and hope.

Kushina knocks and enters at 8 with some breakfast. It’s the usual time. It’s very unusual circumstances.

“Pack a bag,” she says. Her voice is hoarse.

“Where are we going?” he asks, sitting up. It’s the first words he’s said to her since he’d broken his laptop.

“Just… pack.” She speaks so coldly that it makes him shiver.

There’s little room for argument, and he sees no point in trying. Going somewhere gets him out of his bedroom, out of this apartment. He pulls out his biggest backpack and stuffs in some clothes. It feels very… strange. He isn’t excited. He finds it hard to reach for more fun items, like the Switch or a sketchpad. He can only think practically, mechanically, about things he might need. He laughs brokenly when he picks up his bag and it feels so light – there’s no laptop weighing it down. Nothing of substance.

After he’s done packing, he picks at his cold toast until it’s gone. He returns the plate to the kitchen, and she doesn’t say anything. He brings his bag out and drops it by the front door. That doesn’t get a reply either.

He itches.

Up and down his arms. Under his eyes. From his scalp to his toes. He wants to fix this, yet he doesn’t want to apologize. He wants his mother to smile, but he isn’t trading in his stalker to make it happen.

They’re at an impasse.

He showers, changes, and throws himself back down on the bed.

They come at lunch.

The pastor of the church they never wake up early enough to attend, as well as a van, covered in smiling faces and tall trees, carrying two men and a young woman. When he makes his way out of the bedroom, one of the men is holding his bag.

A Christian Camp for troubled youths, 45 minutes out of town. No internet for the campers.

He gapes at Kushina as the other man comes up, grasping him firmly by the bicep and gesturing for the door.

“You can’t be serious,” he snaps at her. The camp was notorious in their area, and not for doing a good job. Not only that, but, “You know what they do to people like me!”

“Maybe if you didn’t like men,” Kushina replies, grave. Naruto freezes, eyes wide. “Then none of this would have happened.”

You…

Bitch.

Fuck this.

He shakes off the hand and stalks out of the apartment, gesturing flippantly for the other man to lead. Gay camp then. Fuck it. Fuck her. Fuck everything. Fuck everyo-

He’s halfway to the van, one man in front of him and everyone else following, even Kushina, when he sees Shikamaru step out of a little black car, backpack slung over a shoulder and a gift bag in his hand.

“Shika?”

His friend looks almost as grave as his mother, hesitating a moment before walking over. “So, it’s true,” he says, glancing at Kushina over Naruto’s shoulder, taking in everything in a second. “Can I talk to him for a minute? I’m to understand I won’t get to see him for a while.”

There’s an exchange of glances between all the adults before the pastor nods. “Just a minute.”

Shikamaru pulls Naruto away, out of ear range, and doesn’t protest as Naruto throws his arms around him in a clingy hug. The reality of his departure hadn’t hit until that moment.

“I didn’t say anything,” Shikamaru whispers, hugging him back. “They talked to everyone, but I didn’t say anything.”

“Thank you,” Naruto sniffles. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

“No, you’re not,” Shikamaru snarks, rolling his eyes. “Listen... This is pretty serious. I need to know, do you trust this guy?”

“Wha? I… yeah? Yeah, I do.” Confused, Naruto pulls away, rubbing his nose with his wrist. “You don’t have to do anything, just don’t say anything.”

“It’s not like I’ve got anything to tell them anyway,” Shikamaru says, glancing past Naruto at the van, his frown deepening. Then he nodded to himself. “I don’t trust him. But I trust you. Do you hear me?”

“I… okay?” Naruto blinks stupidly.

“Take this,” Shikamaru pushes the gift bag into Naruto’s hand.

Unsure, Naruto reaches into the bag, and pulls out… a stuffed fox. It’s very cute, with an x for a mouth. Still…

“I’m a little old for-”

“Take the fucking fox, Naruto,” Shikamaru snaps. There’s urgency in his voice, and Naruto glances over his shoulder. One of the men is walking over.

“Okay. Thanks.” Naruto slings his arm around Shikamaru’s shoulder, drawing him close once more.

“Don’t make me regret this,” Shikamaru whispers.

What?

A throat clears behind them, and Shikamaru steps away with a little wave. He looks casual now, placing his hands in his pockets. It’s all so confusing. Naruto is led back to the van, and he climbs in. They give him ample space to say something, anything, to Kushina, but he ignores the opportunity.

Ignores her sniffles.

The van drives off.

It’s a lovely scenic route, full of forests and cliffsides.

It’s midday, but the weather is cold. The sun tries to keep them warm, but the van's heating does most of the work. One of the men checks over his fox before handing the bag and his backpack to him. He cradles the bag on his lap as the woman sits next to him.

He looks out the window as she talks, all smiles, a big pamphlet in hand. She gives him the spiel, and tells him all about the cabins, about their daily routines, about the rules. What he can expect at meals, what good behavior looks like, and what rewards come to those who behave well. What chores everyone does, and what activities they get to do as well. She skims over the punishments.

When he arrives, there’s little in the way of orientation.

His bag is checked again, his clothes are approved, and some extra toiletries are provided. He’s shown to his bunk bed, one of ten in a single-roomed timber building. Shown the little locker for his valuables. Shown the map, the facilities, the mess hall.

Around him, boys his age and a bit younger mill, eyeing him off. Just as he wonders what earned them a place here, they probably wonder about him.

He doesn’t feel like talking or making friends, but he’s a charismatic person. When he’s thrown in with the current activity, he talks to the people that talk to him. He finds the one person older than him in his group, who shows him to the next activity and then the mess hall for dinner. All in all, it isn’t too bad.

It’s a little bit easing to talk to others, and in some quiet time after dinner, his cabin spills the beans on the myriad reasons they find themselves at the camp. It’s some kind of initiation, bragging rights assigned to the various stories based on craziness. When they get around to him, he knows exactly how to answer.

“I fell in love with my stalker.”

He isn’t really sleeping – the bed isn’t very soft – and it isn’t too late at night, though well after ‘lights out’, when the stuffed fox he’s tucked under his arm starts… buzzing.

He doesn’t realize right away what’s happening. He’s still confused, right up until the rhythmic buzzing stops. Then, as quietly as he can, he investigates. Hidden along the back of the fox, right under its furry nape, he finds one of those discreet little dress zippers. Heart thudding, he draws it down, fishes inside, and finds an iPhone and air pods.

He hesitates only a moment, before stuffing them into his pocket and taking off for the bathroom. He’s allowed to go there during the night, but he nods as he passes two different night shift guards – his cabin the furthest from the bathroom cabin – and takes note of all the security cameras he’d seen that day.

The phone is just starting to buzz again as he checks the stalls. Certain he’s alone, he slips on the air pods and answers.

“…Shika?”

“Hey, Beautiful.”

“Oh my god.” Naruto claps a hand over his mouth, relief crashing into him like a brick wall. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m okay. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I- I- Yeah, I’m okay,” Naruto whispers. The bathroom isn’t the cleanest building, of course, but he hops up on the counter, pulls his knees up to his chest, and wraps his arms around them, staving off the chill. “I missed you.”

In hushed whispers, Naruto fills the man in. Tells him everything about the past two days and where he is now. In return, he’s blessed. His stalker has been beside himself with worry, their laptop connection down and his messages going unanswered. He’d reached out to Shikamaru through Twitter and somehow managed to convince the teen to carry the fox to him once they’d collaboratively pieced together the full picture.

“I still don’t know why he trusted me, but I’m grateful he did,” his stalker confesses.

“He didn’t trust you,” Naruto muses, resting his forehead on his knees, eyelids heavy. “He trusted me trusting you.”

“That… makes sense.”

“Shut up,” Naruto groans, smiling. “God, what am I gonna do.”

“Can you get back to the city? I could come get you, but… that’s risky. If you can get back to the city, it’ll be a lot easier.”

“And then what?” Naruto grumbles.

“And then we run away together.”

“Are… are you being serious?” Naruto asks, lifting his head, inordinately hopeful. Surely it’s a joke.

“Well… Do you want to stay there, or go back to your mother's? I… have room for you, if you want it.”

“God, yes. Please. Yes, I want that,” Naruto nods so fast his neck hurts, but he doesn’t care.

“Okay, but… you know, there’s some pragmatics to consider here. This is kind of kidnapping, so I don’t know… Look. I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to see your mother again, or if I’ll be able to get you into college, or what’s going to happen in the future. Our lawyers might be able to do something… I’m not sure. But you’ll have money, and you’ll have me.”

“…Promise?” Naruto asks, biting his lip.

“You’re going to be the death of me. Yes, I promise.”

“Til death or incarceration do we part,” Naruto says, snickering.

“Don’t jinx it, you brat. Can you get to the city or not?”

“I… maybe? There were a lot of vans coming in and out all day, so maybe they will be coming through tomorrow, too. I could try to hitch a ride,” Naruto says. As exciting as the idea of escape is, of finally bridging the distance between them, he finds himself yawning. It’s ridiculously late by now, and he’s been whispering quietly in this chilly bathroom for over an hour after an already arduous day. He checks the phone – it’s gone from 87 percent down to 59.

“You need to rest,” he’s told. “Can you charge the phone at all? There’s a charger in the fox.”

“We aren’t allowed phones, but I think I saw some power points today I might be able to use. I don’t know, I’ll have to see how the morning goes,” Naruto slides off the counter, wincing as his feet hit the ground. His ass is numb from the cold, hard counter. “I… kinda don’t want to get off the phone. I don’t want to hang up on you. What if something happens? I can’t-”

“Just focus on getting back to the city. If the phone dies, you can go to a Starbucks and charge it. I’ve got tracking turned on. I can find you, and I will be looking, I promise.”

“Ok… Ok, yeah. Alright.” Naruto runs his fingers over the counter, tracing the pattern.

“If you can’t get out, just tell me. I will come and get you.”

“No, I… Well, I’ll try. I get it, I do. You coming out here is noticeable, it puts your safety on the line.” Naruto nods to himself, hammering it in. All that’s been done for him… he can do this much. He can stow away in a van and get back to the city.

“Yes but-”

“No, I don’t want that. I’ll make it to the city.”

“…If you can.”

“I can. I will.” Naruto stretches his fingers out before him, squaring up before the mirror. He feels so different than he had on Monday morning, less than 48 hours prior, and he wonders how visual it is. Does he feel older, or just tired? Does he feel stronger? He takes one deep, steeling breath. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Alright, I’ll be waiting.”

He rests – he’s exhausted – and wakes feeling ready.

Feeling sneaky, like a ninja.

He bounces out of bed, cozies up to his bunkmates, and pays attention. He helps. He goes above and beyond – not for them, but for the councilors. See, look at me, I’m fitting in. Look at me, I’m enjoying it here, I’m not a threat at all. No need to keep an eye on me, nope, not at all.

It isn’t hard, he’s a pretty helpful person normally, but his nerves make all the instructions rattle in one ear and out the other. That’s okay though – they think he’s an idiot, but a helpful idiot. And with his boundless energy, they send him trotting all over the place. He jubilantly meets everyone he can. Including, of course, the people that are coming and going.

Some trucks don’t even come through the gate. Some trucks barely linger for 10 minutes. Only two stick around most of the day, and one of those leaves at lunchtime. When that one leaves – and he has his hands full, silently cursing – he sees that they get to the gate, then go into the office for a minute, before they come back out, the gate opens, and they drive off. Naruto finds an excuse to visit said office at some point and spies a sign-out sheet, both the man and the woman from the truck having signed in and out, every person accounted for.

Perfect.

The remaining van is from a security company, and they’re doing maintenance around the entire grounds. At lunchtime, he sneakily packs his bag and is ready to take off at a moment’s notice. The furthest cabin from the bathroom luckily also means the closest cabin to the gate. He flicks a quick text message to his stalker. He’s being very careful not to use the phone too much, both to conserve power and avoid detection.

A van from the security company? That’s perfect. Be careful.

That done, he goes off to find them.

One of them curses fluently under his breath, the other gives terse orders. Neither of them seems to have much in the way of patience. Naruto picks up a heavy spool of cable and follows after them for a while – nobody thinks to ask him if he’s supposed to be doing that or not.

He hears exactly what he hopes to hear.

“Damnit, Hidan, hurry up. We have to leave by 4 if we’re going to make it back in time for debriefing. I am not staying late just because you want to kick squirrels or fuck about.”

He drops the spool when he can, having laughed at more than a few crude jokes, and darts off, heart thudding erratically as his silly little plan gains its most important feature – a timeline.

He doesn’t do anything fancy.

He keeps his bag within reach, tucked safely near the gate, and when the time comes – when Hidan and Kakuzu pull the truck up to the gate and, grumbling, exit the vehicle to sign out – he moves quickly. He jogs straight over, climbs in through the passenger door, and flips over the plush chairs, landing awkwardly on a jumbled mess of not-very well-organized equipment.

His heart thuds erratically, and even though he backs up against the full-width seats, he feels too visible. It’s brighter than he expects the back of a work van to be, and he can’t afford to be seen. Even if the technicians come back and don’t notice him, the windows are another matter. He panics, swearing one of the cameras attached to the office building can see straight into his soul until he realizes – there’s no flashing red light. He shifts to peek at the camera mounted on the gate – no blinking red light there either.

Huh.

System failure?

Whatever it is, Naruto puts it out of his mind.

He hunkers down and tries to still his beating heart as the men return, certain they’ll be able to hear it, certain he’ll be caught, certain that even if they make it to the city, he’ll be caught by every traffic cam or bodega surveillance before he can get anywhere near a Starbucks.

“Fucking blast the heater, alright? I’m not freezing my ass off again like this morning,” Hidan growls, opening the door.

“Keep your fucking jacket on,” Kakuzu snaps back.

“That’s stupid – run the heater! You don’t have to pay for petrol, asshole!” Hidan nearly shouts, ripping off his jacket and chucking it over the chair.

Directly onto Naruto.

He stiffens as it falls over his head before he carefully lets out his caught breath. It didn’t smell phenomenal, but he was covered and, yes, plenty warm if the heating didn’t stretch all the way to the back of the van.

This was… going well.

He uses the noise cover of Kakuzu climbing into the van, similarly shucking his jacket, and driving off to pull the phone back out of the fox and hold it where he can see it. Alarmingly, the battery was dropping fast, but he didn’t mind too much. Nobody seemed to notice his departure, and with how all over the place he’d been that day, they were unlikely to notice anytime soon. Naruto? Oh yeah, he was elsewhere, helping other people. If he was lucky, his absence wouldn’t be noticed until dinner time.

The city was less than an hour away, not accounting for traffic.

He communicated all of this by message as he rattled around in the back of the van, lifting a corner of the jacket to peek out at the world, watching as the trees gradually gave way to countryside, then suburbia, then the urban jungle he’d grown up in.

His elation at escaping soured once concrete loomed.

“I don’t know when to get out, or how!” he messaged, anxiety climbing. He couldn’t afford to be seen by these two, they might grab him and drag him back to the camp – knowing Kakuzu as slimly as he did, he knew the man would make it his problem as well.

Red lights at intersections were a temptation, but what would that even look like? Did the back of the van even open from the inside??? Even if it did, what was he supposed to do? Throw himself out into the street and run off? (Should he shut the door politely and hope Kakuzu and Hidan just drive off without a care for their surprise stowaway?)

Just stay in the van, Beautiful. I’ve got a plan.

“What plan?!” Naruto wants to scream.

Mistake. This was a mistake, so much a mistake. They were going to get caught. His stalker would go to jail, and Naruto would never speak to him again. This was a disaster, an absolute, unmitigated disaster of epic proportions and-

Everything goes dark as the van takes a sharp turn and suddenly plummets.

Naruto bites back a surprised shriek, clutching his bag as he lands awkwardly on what feels like a spanner or something.

He carefully pushes aside the jacket again, peering out.

His stomach drops.

A parking garage.

The security company's underground parking garage is in the center of the CBD. A chill descends as surely as the darkness had, and the murmurs between Kakuzu and the gate guard confirm it.

“You made good time,” the new voice says. “One of the bosses wants you upstairs pronto, needs to talk to you about that camp job.”

“Of course they do,” Hidan groans. A solid clap – a fist to a shoulder – and Hidan curses.

“We’ll be up promptly,” Kakuzu says, then the boomgate must be lifted and they take off again, Kakuzu hastily swinging them into a parking spot.

He’d stayed in the van too long!

Naruto just lay there, trembling as Kakuzu and Hidan gathered their stuff to exit the van, expecting a hand to drop at any moment and strip him of his cover.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

As the doors slam shut and footsteps amble off, he slumps, dizzy with relief. He had gone undetected, but a new problem reared its ugly head – He was trapped.

In the back of a security company van, in the underground garage of the security company, in the middle of the city. It went without saying that any attempt to escape would take him past more than a few security guards and dozens of cameras.

Fuck .

“What’s the plan? I could use some help here!” He messages, before tucking his phone in his pocket and sitting up. He winces, straightening from an awkward position into an equally awkward crouch, and flexes his shoulders.

Hidan’s jacket was dark, aside from some maroon clouds, and had a hood. It would be a great disguise, or at least an easy way to hide his face. What was petty theft in the scheme of things? He put it on and emptied the pockets into the passenger seat. Shouldering his bag, fox tucked under his arm, he made his way carefully over to the rear of the van.

Much to his horror, there was no internal handle.

He had bigger problems though.

Poised in the back of the van, he could hear footsteps in the otherwise silent garage… and they were coming straight for the van.

Ok ok ok.

Hidan, coming back for his jacket? Kakuzu, having left something else behind? Somebody else entirely? Had the camp clued in far faster than he’d thought they would, had the cameras been working all along? Was there a small army coming for him, ready to drag him back?

No… it only sounded like one person, and Naruto clapped a hand over his mouth as they came right up to the van, fumbling the keys noisily.

Fight. Right? Fight! Kick them in the guts, then jump out and run. Don’t look back, just get out of there. He knew this city, he just had to run until nobody could track him down, find a family-owned café, not a Starbucks, plug in, and wait for his savior.

He braced himself as a key slotted into the back of the van, and the doors were pulled open.

He almost fell, eyes wide.

A million thoughts ran through his mind as he blinked down at the man who’d opened the van doors. Facts and memories slammed into each other as a cascade of understanding washed over him. He knew this face, he knew that hair, he knew that name. How could he not?

“Oh, you bastard,” he whispered, breath hitching.

Sasuke Uchiha smirked at that, letting go of the van doors. “Hello, Beautiful.”

Relief flooded Naruto. Against all odds, the stars had aligned. He knew the man before him, in more ways than one. He was not a criminal, nor a serial pervert. Naruto slid right out of the van and was caught. He buried his face in the man’s neck as strong, solid arms wrapped around him. He was safe, and they were together.

Just like Sasuke had promised.

“…And that was Kushina Uzumaki, mother of the missing teenager, Naruto Uzumaki. We’re so sorry you’re going through this, and we hope that people can call in with sightings of your son soon. Once again, for those of you just tuning in now, if you see the boy pictured on your screen now, call the non-emergency police number as soon as possible. Be aware that he may be traveling with a dangerous individual. Jill?”

“Right you are, Tom. While we hope Naruto can find his way home as soon as possible, it’s important that nobody act rashly. See something, say something. Ugh, it’s just a shame, isn’t it? He’s a handsome young man, and there are some bad people in the world! I would be beside myself if this happened to my daughter!”

“Our youths are in unprecedented danger nowadays thanks to the advent and prevalence of social networking sites, unfortunately. That being said, SharinganOn has become personally invested in this situation! The curious red ocular logo of the popular security company, SharinganOn, can be found plastered as a warning on the front window of over half of the houses and apartments in our fair city, and over 30% nationwide! They also have contracts with several local schools, shops, malls, government facilities, and some tourist attractions! They’ve been caught in a bit of controversy over young Naruto, as the boy has been failed by several of their cheapest security plans this past year. They’ve announced plans to round out their packages going forward and plan on launching a wide-reaching campaign to educate vulnerable youths about the dangers found on the internet.”

“They sure are, Tom! It’s a shame that people who thought they were being protected weren’t being protected enough, but it seems the company has taken it personally! I’m sure they’ll use the story of Naruto – however it ends – to help spread awareness as they improve their systems and ensure robust security for all, nationwide.”

“What do you mean by taking it personally, Jill?”

“Well, the Senior CEO, 32-year-old Itachi Uchiha has been working diligently with Miss Uzumaki and Naruto’s school this past year, subsidizing the necessary upgrades to ensure the safety of our students. Meanwhile, their Junior CEO, 26-year-old Sasuke Uchiha, Itachi’s younger brother and the tech wiz between them, has absconded to their private island in the Maldives. When asked if it was due to a bad breakup or a new love interest, the secretive young bachelor said he planned to focus on his work without any interruptions. So, I’m sure he’s hard at work doing… whatever software developers do, haha, I’m not too sure! But I am certain that he’s got his head down for the company’s – and our – benefit.”

“Did you say private island?”

“Of course! The Uchiha family is old money, split nowadays between the two brothers after the passing of their parents over a decade ago. They’ve got investments in all corners of the globe and ties out the wazoo! They’ve both been living here in the city for over five years now, focusing on the future of SharinganOn, but they regularly go on lavish holidays and brush elbows with Hollywood's elite. I’m holding my breath, waiting for the Senior CEO to turn into Batman! As for Sasuke though, we won’t be hearing from him any time soon I imagine! It has been notoriously difficult to get word, picture, or video of or about their private island. I’m not sure anyone actually knows where it is, aside from the staff that pilot the private jet and run the island.”

“Lucky man… well, both of them! Which do you think it is, then? Has he really raced off for work, or do you think his departure has something to do with the start - or end - of a relationship?”

“Hmm… Probably the start of one, I think! He left pretty quickly, and nobody from SharinganOn has reported any negative disposition. Rumor has it he's been easier to work with than ever in recent months! Here’s hoping he’s got a pretty young woman to keep him company as he works! If he doesn’t… well, someone let him know that I’m available, okay?”

“Hahaha, alright Jill, I’m sure we can get him that message. In other news…”

Two months earlier…

Kushina’s head pops off the pillow as she jolts awake. There’d been a loud noise. She frowns as she waits, unsure if it had been a car backfiring or something more urgent. After a few moments of silence, she relaxes and rolls over, brushing away a lock of auburn hair stuck to her lip, ready to settle back into sleep.

Knock knock knock.

Oh, fiddlesticks.

“Coming!” She yells, ripping back the sheets and tumbling out of bed. She’s only wearing a T-shirt because she’s already gotten out the heavier duvet, and her bare legs almost immediately goosebumps from the breeze coming through the window - this fall was clearly going to be a cold one.

She’d need to remember to tell Naruto to keep the windows closed overnight.

Still, she doesn’t have time for her window now. She trips into her slippers and slides on her dressing gown before sprinting down the hall as she cinches the soft belt. She pauses only a moment at the front door, ensuring the dressing gown overlaps properly, before opening it.

Two dashing young men stand there, looking snazzy in two different uniforms, the logo of Sharingan On a bright red emblem on their chests. From the cargo pants ensemble the redhead wears and the pristine suit the Japanese one has on, she knows they have different roles in the company.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Uzumaki,” the Japanese one says, his black hair only just long enough to be tied back and more than a few strands popping loose to frame his handsome face. He peers at her over the lenses of his glasses, his smile polite. “We’re here for your scheduled service upgrade.”

“Oh, uhh… Kushina is fine, thanks. I don’t know anything about an upgrade?” Kushina says, tilting her head as she mentally runs through the past few days. They’re always busy, and she is prone to losing track of things, but she’s certain that this is the first she is hearing about an upgrade.

“They should have called you this morning,” the man frowns down at his clipboard, flipping back the top sheet and scanning for answers. “My apologies. I’ll phone in the girls so they can phone you and confirm our identities. With everything going, it’s best to stay on top of the paper trail.”

“No, no, that’s alright,” Kushina says, leaning to get her own look at the clipboard. “But I really didn’t order any upgrade, so I’m not sure…”

“Don’t worry about that, ma’am. This upgrade is being provided at no extra cost as part of Sharingan On’s response to the-” he hesitates for a moment, clearing his throat. “The ongoing situation with your son. The brass is exercising due diligence to ensure both you and your son are safe.”

“Oh!” Kushina says, eyes wide. “That’s… well that’s lovely, thank you. So… If you have some ID, that would be fine, right? Unless I need to get a spiel from corporate?”

“No, I have all the relevant information right here, no spiel required,” the man says with a smile. “My name is Chidori, Kushina, and this is Sasori, one of our technicians. I have my ID right he-”

He pats his breast pocket, and frowns, cutting himself off. Then he glances down at his lanyard, pats the pockets of his suit jacket, and then the rear pockets of his dress pants, coming up empty. At his confused expression, his partner chuckles, stepping forward.

“Please excuse him, ma’am,” Sasori says. He has a very charming smile, and she’s envious of the deeper red his hair sports. It’s much prettier than her fire red. Self-consciously, she pushes her fingers through her messy locks, pulling them over her shoulder and twisting them idly as he speaks. He, without any trouble, pulls a company ID card from his breast pocket and shows it to her. “He isn’t much good with anything besides computers.”

There’s a muted sigh of annoyance from Chidori as he side-eyes his partner. Sasori doesn’t seem to care, quietly putting his ID card away after she’s inspected it. They have quite the rapport, the ID she’s just seen looks legitimate, and everything else about them seems to check out.

“That’s alright,” she says, to both of them, opening the door wide and gesturing for them to come inside. “I lose stuff all the time, too.”

She winks.

Chidori opens his mouth to argue, before smartly closing it and reapplying his little customer service smile.

Sasori snickers.

“You,” Chidori says, as Sasori takes a step. His arm flashes out, barring Sasori’s way. “Can start with the new external camera. It needs to have a clear vantage of the window for the second bedroom.”

Sasori hesitates before nodding. With a quick nod to Kushina, he saunters off back to the car park. Kushina pokes her head out, and she can see the tail end of a company van.

“We don’t always have a lot of time at each location,” Chidori explains.

“Of course,” Kushina nods, before finally letting the man into her apartment.

He follows her to the kitchen, where she gets them both some water, and he outlines the upgrade to her package. Smothering yawns, she listens as carefully as she can. A second external camera, both feeds connected to the system, which sends the video feeds out to their active security branch. Feeds are monitored as closely as possible by a whole team of staff, and they even have their own security guards to dispatch in the event of emergencies, who activepatrolled the neighborhoods with active accounts.

At the sound of drilling coming from the back of their apartment, Kushina frowns.

“Don’t we need to get permission from building management?” she asks.

“Actually, no,” Chidori says, folding up the pamphlet for the external cameras and pulling out a second one. “The tenancy act in this area allows all tenants to improve the security of their abode with prior arrangement, permission, or fee. So long as, at the end of your lease, the abode doesn’t have less security or any damage, it’s fine. So, what that means is if we leave the cameras in, it’s fine. If we tried to remove them and cover up the holes, that would be an issue. However, we don’t require you to remove them, and you don’t need to take them with you. They can stay in the apartment after you end your lease.”

“Huh.” Kushina nods slowly, that kind of made sense. “How convenient, I guess.”

“We also have a standing arrangement with this particular building complex that allows us to make any upgrades we want, so long as we don’t impose a cost on them or their tenants. It’s why you already had the front door camera when you moved in, and a brochure suggesting you sign on with us.”

“…Smart.”

Sasori makes his way inside, and by then, Chidori has already shown Kushina a floor map of her apartment with the prospected camera arrangement they were planning to install.  They were getting eight internal cameras, with a total coverage of over ninety percent of the apartment. At no extra cost, how could she turn it down?

“So, the security office is gonna be able to see all over the place?” she asked.

“No, they can’t see any of these cameras. All of these cameras are going to be connected to a device in the roof, that will send the feed to a computer here in the apartment. The only people that have access to those feeds will be the people who have access to the computer,” Chidori says, neatly folding the new pamphlet and placing it with the other. He offers Sasori the clipboard with the agreed-upon camera placements, and the man moves off from the kitchen to the living area. “Do you have a desktop in the house at all?”

“No, we don’t have a desktop. There’s a laptop,” Kushina crosses her arms, frowning. “It was a gift to my son, and it’s quite a good one. Apparently.”

“That will be fine. I just need to install a program on it, and it will be able to access all the feeds.” Chidori stands up. “May I take a look?”

“Sure,” Kushina says, standing and leading him to her son’s bedroom. She excuses herself for a quick moment and does a quick run around to see if he’s left any underwear lying around or, heaven forbid, something worse. She finds nothing and invites the man into the room. He looks around briefly, before moving over to the desk chair and sitting down in front of the laptop. “I don’t know if he has a password or anything.”

“Hmm,” Chidori turns on the laptop and, sure enough, he’s prompted by a password screen. “Do you mind if I try a few combinations? Or should we call him?”

“He’s in class right now,” Kushina says, worrying her lip. “Will trying get him locked out or anything? My phone goes crazy when I enter my code wrong too many times.”

“No, with this OS I can try a dozen passwords before it starts yelling at me,” Chidori says.

“Oh, go ahead then,” Kushina says.

“Alright. Would you mind telling me your maiden name and birthday?” Chidori asks, reaching for a writing pad poised precariously on the edge of Naruto’s messy desk. Kushina tells him the key information he asks for, and he starts getting to work, carefully entering a few different combinations.

It’s not all that interesting, and Kushina’s jaw threatens to split with a big yawn after the first few tries.

“I’m sorry we’re disturbing your rest,” Chidori says, glancing over his shoulder at her. “Did you want to make some coffee or something?”

“I would,” she grumbles, rubbing at her tired eyes. “But I don’t have enough milk for the three of us.”

“Oh, that’s fine. I don’t like coffee, and Sasori has had enough for today,” Chidori says. “Please, don’t worry about us.”

“Yeah? Okay then, yeah.” Kushina nods, heading out of the room. The sounds of drilling have her curious as well, and she hasn’t had a chance to chat with the redhead. “Shout if you need anything, then.”

“Will do,” Sasuke calls after her, waiting as the sound of her footsteps disappears down the hallway.

He correctly enters Naruto’s password on the next try. As the desktop loads in, he rips off the notepad paper and tosses it in the trashcan, smiling softly as he looks over Naruto’s eclectic desk. No two pens were the same brand, no notepad or book could be guessed to be new, and there were more stickers and little figures cluttering the space than he could shake a stick at. He picked up a curious little fox, certain it was a Pokémon of some variety, but charmed by the grin it wore.

It was a very Naruto grin.

Sasuke loads the staff portal and begins installing the security package. Then he opens and checks all the secret software he’s installed, ensuring everything is working well and operating efficiently. There’s no need to check Naruto’s search history or his ‘homework’ folders – If he hadn’t seen the boy browsing in real time, he’s looked since.

Application installing and everything else going well, he spun on the desk chair, taking in the boy’s room. The eclectic décor of his desk was not a unique feature. Posters were pinned on almost every surface – anime, bands, art, a sports star or two. Seemingly, any and every poster the boy had ever gotten his hands on.

He’d only glanced at this room a handful of (often dark) moments in person, and the narrow field of view offered by the webcam didn’t do it justice. Mentally, he took note of every series, band, character, or person he could see, as he stood and made his way over to the bed.

He tilted his head, checking the apartment’s noise level. All he could hear was the muted sounds of Kushina talking to Sasori.

So, he picked up Naruto’s pillow and buried his face in it.

He breathed deeply of the pleasant musk he found. Naruto clearly used tropical scented shampoo and conditioner, so there were subtle hints of mango and passionfruit. It made him feel like he was indulging in some form of deranged wine tasting - Mmhmm, yes, full-bodied, oaky, with a hint of persimmon.

He moved slowly around the room as he soaked in Naruto’s natural environment, clutching his aromatic burden and occasionally returning to the laptop to move through a prompt or two before returning to his meandering observations.

He knew so much, and yet so little.

He knew exactly what dirty magazines Naruto hid in the bottom drawer of his desk, right down to the volume, yet he didn’t know which pages caught and held the blonde’s attention. And, unfortunately, a brief rifling didn’t reveal any stains or stuck together pages.

He knew approximately which of the wooden slats that supported Naruto’s mattress were getting too old – which ones creaked, which ones whined, and the singular one at the end that had already broken.

He knew Naruto’s favorite underwear, by merit of his repeated appearance in them, but on closer observation of his underwear drawer, they were simply the newest ones, and three of a kind – all the rest were worn with age and sported a few holes.

He thumbed over one such hole in a pair of carefully folded orange jocks, and his heart ached. Naruto deserved so much more than he had, and Sasuke burned with the desire to provide. He could replace every single item in this crappy apartment with top of line versions, add in a few much-needed luxury items, and spring for a dozen extra-curricular activities without making a dent in a month’s salary.

And that was saying nothing for how happy the blonde would be, how grateful. Not that Sasuke wouldn’t relish his liberal thanks, but if he could have piled that on top of his other anonymous gifts, he would have.

Nobody deserved to go with so little, but least of all the single, most vibrant ray of sunshine he’s ever met.

He’d never been soft like this before the blonde.

He’d never tipped a waiter their annual salary or pulled a hooker from the darkest depths of destitution. He didn’t drop coins or bills in the various receptacles the homeless shook in his direction, nor did he donate to any charities that weren’t tax write-offs.

None of that, even after he’d come to fathom just how little some people had, through the singular lens of the webcam. He wasn’t a changed man, intent on ending world poverty. He cared no more now than he had at any other time in his life.

Except for Naruto.

He has enough time to place the pillow back on the bed before Sasori and Kushina enter Naruto’s bedroom. Ignoring the carefully disguised curiosity in Sasori’s eyes, he helps the man position the ladder for his next camera installation.

“Oh, you got in!” Kushina says, standing by the desk.

“Your son must be a lovely young man. His password had your birthday in it,” Sasuke replies, ambling over.

“He’s… yeah, he’s lovely. Too lovely, I guess,” she flicks him a sad smile. “And a bit too gullible.”

Sasuke doesn’t argue. He doesn’t think she’s wrong.

“You’re really good with computers,” Kushina observes, looking back at the laptop, before biting her lip. “Would you mind, umm… Like, could you check for any bad things? Soft spyware, and stuff?”

“Of course, I can do that.” Sasuke sits back down. Certain of Kushina’s technological ineptitude, he opens and runs Windows inbuilt defrag program. If she knows enough to ask, he’ll claim it’s the first step in searching for ‘soft spyware’.

“Thank you,” Kushina says. She doesn’t know better. She continues to nurse her mug of coffee – there’s a chip in the handle, Sasuke sees – and turns her attention back to Sasori as he begins threading the cable of the new camera into the freshly drilled hole.

There’s idle chatter as Sasori works until he comes back down the ladder and glimpses the laptop screen. He knows what defrag is, and that it achieves nothing in regard to Kushina’s request.

Sasuke meets his gaze without blinking.

“How many more to go?” he asks.

“Only two left,” Sasori replies. Good little employee that he is, Sasori potters off to do the next camera. Kushina follows, reflexively pulling the door shut after her.

The back of the door is, like the rest of Naruto’s room, a mess. Unlike the posters from the rest of the room though, here Sasuke finally finds photos. Photos, report cards, movie ticket stubs, certificates of achievement, sketches, and worn notes clearly passed about in grade school. It’s more Naruto than his desk is, and Sasuke hovers before each photograph and record, basking in the glow of his little golden sunflower, his memories, and his accolades.

Then, caught between one photo of a toddler Naruto posing as a tree in a school play, and another of Naruto and Shikamaru on a waterslide, he sees a photo that makes his heart stop.

It’s from the day they met.

He knows, because Naruto looks exactly as he does in his memories, from the muddy rainbow shoelaces to the scabbed-over scratch running down his chin. It’s him and Shikamaru, of course, as Naruto brandishes the prize he’s just won at the bank booth at the Career Fair.

But it’s so much better than that.

Because there, in the background, are Sasuke and his brother. Itachi is talking to the principal, who’s thanking them for coming, and Sasuke is by his side… even though they’re in the background of the photo, it’s a quality image and he’s clear enough – he’s looking straight at the blonde.

Meer minutes before the photo had been taken, from what Sasuke had deduced on the day, Naruto had won whatever difficult skill test was being held at the bank’s stall. The grand prize had been a crisp fifty-dollar bill, or something to that effect. In his flagrant exuberance, he’d jumped about excitedly, and crashed right into Itachi, the pair tumbling to the floor.

Which, in hindsight, had been hilarious. But at the time, Sasuke had found it insulting, and he’d hauled Naruto off his brother by his collar, looked down into those wide blue eyes – scared, having taken note of just how expensive the suit beneath him was – and that had been it.

Sasuke’s ire had died on his tongue, long before Itachi’s reprimands of his manhandling reached his ears, as the fifteen-year-old had apologized profusely. All these months later, Sasuke still couldn’t pinpoint what exactly about the boy had stolen his heart and mind. Every time he’d tried to puzzle it out, the list quickly blew past anything that could reasonably fit on a single page. But it always started with the perfect hue of his wide and innocent blue eyes.

The fuss of the moment – people helping Itachi to his feet, somebody gently prying Naruto’s collar out of Sasuke’s grip, the people from the bank booth panicking and coming to apologize to him and his brother, the principal pacing over quickly to offer his own useless assistance – was lost on him. All he had eyes for was Naruto.

Naruto, too, was quick to realize that Itachi himself wasn’t mad, and watched him back. Through Shikamaru’s and the principals' chastising, red-faced and chagrined, blue eyes continued to flick over to him, as if awaiting attack or reprimand or, possibly most terrifying of all, a dry-cleaning bill.

In the end, they never said a word to each other. The principal dragged Naruto over to Itachi to give a comprehensive, respectful apology, which his brother had gracefully accepted, and the boy had been released. Then, corralled back over to the bank’s booth, a much more subdued Naruto had, still gleefully, accepted his prize.

Of all the moments of that day seared into Sasuke’s memory, having his photo taken wasn’t one of them.

Reverently, he unpinned the photo from the board. He carried it over to the clipboard and secured it where nobody would notice, then returned to the door and rearranged things so that there was no longer a  glaring gap. Positively delighted with his find and invigorated by his subsequent minor thievery, he left the room in search of the others. They needed to finish up and get out of there, especially before Naruto himself got home.

Sasori finishes setting up the hub in the roof not too long after, and Kushina opts to sit and wait in the loungeroom as they finish up. She says there’s no use telling her how to use the program, she’ll just give the guide to her son. With everything set up with the laptop, and the numerous feeds of the house running into it ( and also sent directly to his laptop at home), Sasuke waits on the landing as Sasori finishes packing up his toolbox. Kushina, still yawning despite her coffee, is slumped against the doorframe.

“Hey…” she begins, head cocked. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

Dimly, Sasuke notices the hitch in Sasori’s movements, his back turned to them. He thinks she’s talking to him. Smirking, Sasuke quickly answers. She is, after all, looking right at him.

“Possibly,” he shrugs casually, and lies through his teeth. “They’ve used me in advertising material before. I think I’ve even been on a billboard.”

“Oh, yes… That must be it,” she agrees, nodding. She doesn’t seem entirely convinced, but there’s little he could do about that. Sasuke Uchiha had never been photographed with his hair tied up, let alone wearing glasses.

Sasori quickly finishes and scurries out the door with a nod in Kushina’s direction. Sasuke says his goodbyes, shakes Kushina’s hand, and follows him to the van.

As they drive off, Sasori sighs.

“So… Chidori.”

“It’s none of your business,” Sasuke advises, his voice light. It’s a threat in its own right.

“Be that as it may, I can’t imagine your brother will be too impressed when he finds out you’ve been lying your way into customers' homes,” Sasori doesn’t look at Sasuke as he turns the heavy vehicle around a sharp corner.

“Do you think?” Sasuke asks absently, pulling the little toy fox out of his pocket and holding it up, turning it this way and that as he looked it over – his second prize from that day.

Sasori spares him a glance, eyes narrowed. He quickly makes correct assumptions about its origin, though he can only guess the motivations behind Sasuke’s brazen brandishing of it. He seems to hear this warning and stays silent.

“I suppose you’re right,” Sasuke continues. “I’m sure he’ll be equally as unimpressed to find out about your real name, and the numerous warrants out for your arrest.”

Sasori’s grip tightens on the steering wheel. He doesn’t need to know that both CEO’s are already aware of his shady past and have opted to look past it.

“Don’t you think?”

There’s no answer, and Sasuke returns his gaze to the cute little fox, brushing his thumb over its plastic ear.

Minutes pass, Sasori tense and Sasuke relaxed.

“Back to the tower then, sir?” Sasori finally bites out.

“Yes, thank you.”

He drops the fox back into his pocket and finally removes his low-effort disguise.

He wonders how long it will take for Naruto to tell him about the new cameras. A few days, a week, a month? How desperate was the boy to catch a glimpse of his face? Should he tempt him with another offer of a gift? Brainstorming Naruto’s reactions to everything he did was titillating, and he couldn’t wait to get home, get back on their call, and hear his loves lyrical voice… especially if it tried to lie to him.

The games they played were addicting, mostly because of all the curveballs Naruto sent his way.

He couldn’t wait for the next one.