Work Text:
This was stupid.
Bunnybron’s parents had raised them right. Their teachers had drilled internet safety into their mind. Meeting someone IRL they crossed paths with online without proof of their identity is outright insane. It's asking for a psycho axe murderer to kill them, no, it’s practically begging for it. Not only that, but Bunny knows this diner has been listed as the last known location for a handful of missing person posters they've spotted glued to power poles throughout town.
So, what were they doing here at 3am, nervously and repeatedly checking their TikTok DMs, nursing so much free coffee that their hands had gotten shaky and that they could no longer taste the burnt, acidic flavour of the brew that's been left far too long on the burner, their knee bouncing at a rate it’s about to vibrate off their body?
Well. It started out as a joke. It was a joke. Okay, more like an admission, a confession, of repressed desire under the guise of a joke, a scream into the void of what they wished they had. And then… Then it had spiralled. Now, they've got drafts scheduled and notes saved, the same looping video and audio, but each text description that little bit different, drawn straight from their own fantasies.
Of course Bunny didn’t have a bro to do this with. If they had one, why would they have ever made that first TikTok?
But people loved it. People related. People connected. People wanted bro too. Bunny had never felt more seen. And so, they continued making them. Honestly, at this point, Bunny could consider it a part-time side gig for which they were paid in serotonin.
Collab? came 5ivestar's DM one day.
Bunny ignored it but couldn't help scoping out the competition. 5ivestar was good, their posts almost complimentary to Bunny’s ideas. But Bunny didn’t need the help. This was their outlet. Working with someone else would remove the very essence, the intent of their posts. These videos were their way of connecting with the anonymous masses all desperately craving acknowledgement. And these viewers?
They were Bunnybron’s touch-starved brethren.
So what in the actual fuck were they doing here now?
I mean, we could just chat instead? was 5ivestar’s next message, humble.
Bunnybron had stared at it for a long time. It wasn’t like Bunny to be rude. For every DM they got, they usually sent an emoji back so long as the person messaging wasn’t outright insulting. In fact, of every appropriate DM they’d gotten, it was only 5ivestar’s they hadn’t replied to.
They had been locked to that message for so long that the imprint of the text appeared on the back of their eyelids when they blinked. It’d burned into their retinas.
What was the harm in a chat?
Then they’d replied, Yeah, I got time for that.
What followed was one of the most engaging conversations Bunny’s had in years. And it never stopped. They wouldn’t admit it was the best chat of their life, but that was certainly true. Whatever Bunny had to say, 5ivestar would riff off, and vice versa. Bunny found themself looking forward to the other’s messages morning, noon, and night, wanting to hear their thoughts on things even as mundane as the best Coldplay Cam couple, or which spread they preferred on their toast (it was Nutella).
Not once but twice, friends had caught Bunny grinning like a madman at their phone, laughter snorting out of their nose, and their friends had teased them for being down bad for a faceless stranger. Bunny didn’t take it to heart, which surprised even themself. Maybe they might’ve once, since it would’ve been prodding the pain of loneliness that inspired their TikToks in the first place. However, talking with 5ivestar filled Bunny with more joy than every single notification they’d ever received from their videos combined.
It was bliss. Bunny felt genuinely seen.
Accidentally, without noticing, 5ivestar doxed themself, or rather only their location—and Bunny realised the two of them lived in neighbouring states. It wasn’t too much of a coincidence. You grow up in a red region and you find ways of making do. Releasing pent-up sexual frustration as audio-visual-textual shortform was probably the most tame of what Bunny had considered.
Feeling like they’d flown a little too close to the sun, like they’d become privy to something they shouldn’t have, Bunny had admitted 5ivestar had leaked their location, warning them to be more careful, a weird guilt growing in their gut.
I know.
Bunny had all but snapped their phone in half upon reading that.
Finger tapping a divot into their computer desk, they’d penned a response.
You wanna get coffee sometime?
And then they’d flung the smart device into the corner of their room, cheeks hot, heart thundering in their chest. They felt like they’d lost the plot. No one in the right mind did shit like this. Bunny didn’t even know their real name. They didn’t know how old they were. They didn’t even know their gender! This could all be a sham. A scam. A lie. It could be some eighty-eight-year-old man on the other end of their conversation with nefarious plans.
But when their phone vibrated against the carpet where it’d landed, Bunny had scrambled forward, breath caught in their throat.
Name a time and place. I’ll be there.
That’d been a couple hours ago. Bunny had panicked. Picked the only place they knew would be open. They knew they were only riding the excitement thrumming through their veins. Had they’d chosen a later date and time, they would’ve chickened out. No, they needed the adrenaline high to keep them committed.
And so they were here.
3am at the diner where multiple people had gone missing, meeting an online stranger for coffee.
They’d been so intent on the phone before them, waiting on any message from 5ivestar, that as a shadow loomed over them, they only just registered it as a silhouette approaching.
“Bro?”
Bunny smiled.