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“Oh fuck! Zanka, Zanka, Zanka, Zankazankazankazanka–”
Jabber knew the moment he met Zanka that he was fucking weird. He survived being stabbed deep in the gut, he seemed to refuse to go all out on Jabber even after he knew he was fucked, and he’s friends with a group of absolute weirdos– and that’s saying something coming from Jabber! So yeah, he was weird. Exactly Jabber’s type of weird, as well.
The type of weird that gets off hurting people almost as much as Jabber gets off being hurt, the type of weird that seems to look down on himself so much that he’s blind to his talent, and the type of weird that would willingly fuck the enemy. Fuck the enemy good as well.
“Zanka, Zanka, holy fuck– uugghhff,” Jabber whined out as his drool wetting the pillow below him, the oddly fluffy and white pillow below him that belonged to the hotel room that they had rented out to fuck because apparently that’s something they do now. Fuck in hotels, like a couple of newly weds.
Personally, Jabber had no problem with what they had going on before, with Zanka occasionally inviting Jabber into his room so they could have sex, or the other way around, or they would just find a secluded, random ass location and have it out there. But apparently some of the other Cleaners had begun to ‘hear the noises’ that Jabber made, and Zanka was too much of a prude to live with that knowledge, oh no, no, no! So, Zanka has taken to just renting out hotel rooms and the such so he could stick his thing into Jabber’s thing. Kinda immature, if you would to ask Jabber and his ‘thing’.
“Be fuckin’ quiet, goddamn,” Zanka groaned out, chest against Jabber’s back, one of his arms wrapped around Jabber’s front so he could squeeze his neck with his hand, and have the other firmly planted on Jabber’s hip, his grip so tight that his nails were so close to breaking the skin. Not that Jabber would mind, not at all. In fact, Jabber grasps at any small intent or bruise Zanka had left on him after sex, because for some fucking reason it was real hard to make Zanka wanna hurt him when they fucked.
“Hahh, hah, ah– Zanka, right there, oh baby hell yeah, right th-there,” Jabber babbled out, his eyes rolled back and a giant grin plastered on his face. Zanka probably thought that Jabber was saying that he had found the g-spot, but nah. He had found it a few minutes after Jabber’s first orgasm, what Jabber was really referring to was the spot that Zanka’s nails were digging into, right above and next to his cunt, in the softer part of his upper inner thigh. The painful press of Zanka’s long nails pressed into his skin was fucking delicious, and the harder Zanka fucked him the harder he pressed his nails into his thigh. Jabber hoped that Zanka pressed so hard it would bleed, maybe even scar. That’d be heavenly, actually, a scar caused by Zanka. Holy fuck he’s cumming just at the thought of it.
“‘M gonna cum, gonna cum again, mhmmm,” Jabber mumbled against the pillow, his teeth biting into it as his second orgasm of the night rolled over him. Another amazing thing about Zanka was that he refused to let up until Jabber’s had at least three orgasms. It's hot as hell, honestly. Being stuck under Zanka, being forced to just take it and take it until he’s cum enough for Zanka to deem him pleased, like his own opinions and words on his own pleasure don't matter, just Zanka’s.
Jabber knew that Zanka also enjoyed it. Enjoyed seeing Jabber cockdrunk and pliant, even if he would deny it whenever Jabber would correctly point out how much Zanka enjoys seeing him as a drooling and moaning mess. He’d always deflect, saying how he did this for Jabber’s pleasure and not his. And while Jabber could believe that, after all Zanka was always eager to please, Jabber just has a damn hard time imagining a scenario where Zanka would go out of his way just to make Jabber cum. Zanka isn’t the type to do that, let alone for Jabber of all people.
Jabber’s legs shook as Zanka’s hand left the spot his nails were digging into to instead place his hand over Jabber’s clit, to roughly press and flick at it. Jabber didn’t know whether to be upset at the change of location or not, because one, fuck yes his dick is being touched, but two, Zanka’s stopped hurting him.
The hand around his throat is barely enough to satiate Jabber, and now Jabber is left with a confusing feeling of being satisfied to hell and back, and still wanting more. Zanka has this weird thing, where when they’re out of the bedroom, he will not hesitate even a second to push Jabber around, to even punch him and kick him and so, so much more, but as soon as they step foot into the bedroom and Jabber wants now more than ever for Zanka to just hit him, he doesn’t.
Jabber isn’t sure why the fuck Zanka doesn’t do it, it’s so obvious that he likes hurting Jabber, and Jabber likes being hurt, so what’s the problem? Jabber can't find a single one. Maybe it’s some form of repression, and that if Zanka actually fully committed to harming Jabber in the bedroom, he’d have to admit that he’s actually a huge fucking sadist, and not a normal type of pervert. Or something. Jabber’s tried every trick in the book to try and get Zanka to be rougher. He’s tried being louder, sucking Zanka off more, embracing his sadistic side and being the one to push Zanka around, begging, fuck he’s even called him names. Sir, Lover, Baby, Daddy, Zaddy. Which he still calls him outside of sex just to annoy him, honestly. It’s just too perfect, Zanka plus Daddy equals Zaddy, how could Jabber not abuse the fuck out of it?
He’s even called him Mommy, just to find out how Zanka would react, and he got given a broken finger in return (one hundred per-fucking-cent worth it).
And so, Jabber’s had to resort to the one foolproof plan he has to get Zanka to hurt him: be as annoying and mean as possible.
Zanka nuzzled his nose into Jabber’s upper back, taking a big inhale as he groaned, rubbing Jabber’s clit in-between his middle and pointer finger. Jabber whined loudly, again. Twisting his head to try and look back at Zanka. “Harder, harder, h-harder, fucking– please? Pretty, pretty, p-pretty please, oh m-mister big dick Zanka,” Jabber struggled to speak clearly, his teasing tone barely audible, his speech slurred and his mind almost completely focused on the heat in his gut and the absolute burning sensation of already being pushed through a third orgasm so soon after his second.
For once, Zanka actually listened and held Jabber closer to his body as he sped up his already fast pace. For a dude who’s allegedly only had sex around two times, he's so fucking good at it.
Jabber’s legs finally give out and it's only thanks to Zanka’s arm wrapped around Jabber’s waist that Jabber doesn't completely fall to the bed. His arms had given out ages ago by now, and he had gotten used to grabbing onto pillows and blankets for his dear life as Zanka fucked him like he hated him. Which he did.
“Ya happy now, huh? Ya gonna shut up now?” Zanka breathed out, and Jabber whimpered, tear filled eyes rolling back as another orgasm crept up on him.
“N-Nah, c-can’t shut me up,” Jabber murmured, still somehow able to speak, even if his speech is slurred and he’s stuttering like he doesn’t know how to talk. After having injected millions of different hallucinogens and weird substances into himself over the course of multiple years, he’s gotten pretty good at speaking while absolutely wrecked. A niche but useful talent, it turns out.
Zanka let out a shaky breath and Jabber swears he could feel it when Zanka furrowed his brows, squeezing down on Jabber’s neck harder. “Th-this all you fucking got, h-huh? Little Zan-Zan afraid of hurting m-me?” Jabber breathed out, his eyelids drooping as he chewed on his bottom lip. Usually it didn’t take much to provoke Zanka, just an irritating comment here and a snide remark there and soon Jabber had a hand in his hair and a pair of teeth at the back of his neck, biting so hard it broke skin, but other times it took more. Jabber isn’t exactly ashamed to admit he’s had to have Lovely Assiststaff become his target of ridicule a few times for Zanka to finally give in and punch the lights out of him while still balls deep inside, but it's worth it a good ninety nine point nine percent of the time.
“C’mon, f-fucking do something, man,” Jabber whined out, leaning his head back so he was almost pressing his cheek against Zanka’s. Flexibility was a beautiful gift. And so was Jabber’s big fat mouth.
“Or sh-should–” Jabber’s sentence was cut off when Zanka gave him a particularly hard thrust, but he recovered quick enough– “Should I go find someone who can, y-yeah? Go find someone w-who’s man enough to just fucking hurt me.”
That seemed to get Zanka’s attention, because soon Zanka’s hand left Jabber’s dick and went straight to Jabber's back, dragging his nails across Jabber’s back, and definitely breaking skin. “Ah, aha, ahahh…” Jabber moaned, letting his hair be grabbed by Zanka’s other free hand to push him into the pillows, making it hard as shit to breathe. Targeting Zanka’s not so cleverly hidden possessive trait always seemed to work out in Jabber’s favour.
With most of Jabber’s other senses blocked by the multiple pillows surrounding his head, he was forced to fully focus on Zanka’s bare dick moving in and out of him. In, out, in, out, in, out, as well as Zanka’s repeated action of clawing at Jabber’s back, and sucking harsh, bloody hickies into Jabber's neck and back. Jabber moaned, whined, and cried into the pillows, clenching tightly around Zanka’s cock when he felt his third orgasm build up. Jabber never knew how much the sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin could get him going, but you learn something new everyday. The mixture of Jabber’s and Zanka’s cum made for a beautifully smooth entrance and exist for Zanka’s cock, and also made it easier for Zanka to fuck into Jabber deliciously fast.
There's no way Zanka heard Jabber’s cry of ‘I’m gonna cum, I'm gonna cum’, but that didn't stop Jabber from screaming it out. Jabber was sure (he hoped) that his back was covered in his own blood by now, or at least he hoped that Zanka had at least broken a hell of a lot of skin, he wanted to feel this night for days.
Just as Jabber began to feel light headed from the lack of air, Zanka pulled him up, and Jabber unconsciously took a big breath of air in, coughing and hiccuping between moans and whimpers. “Hey there,” Zanka murmured into Jabber’s ear, looking Jabber in the eyes as he came for the second time that night, his eyelids almost drooping shut as he came. Sleeping with Jabber meant a lot of things, mainly bad, but one thing it definitely meant was that your libido and refractory period was going to skyrocket. Zanka isn’t sure he’s cum this much in one night before.
“Hi,” Jabber drawled out, his speech slurred and his pupils blown wide. There were tear streaks down his cheeks, and that irritating dopey grin had plastered itself on Jabber’s face, just as it usually did whenever they fucked. Or fought. Or both.
Zanka’s lips were red from blood, and the sight made Jabber whine. Not only did this mean that Jabber was definitely bleeding, thank fucking God, but it meant that Jabber got to admire the beautiful sight that was a bloodied and pissed off Zanka. He was gorgeous, and that’s not even an exaggeration. His hair was a complete mess, something he’d definitely complain about later. His neck, arms, and probably back were also covered in hickies, scratch marks and the like, since Jabber is incapable of keeping his mouth and hands to himself. His teeth and lips were bitten raw, much like Jabber’s, and the distinct shade of blood red was staining his teeth, and the reality that Zanka was completely fine with biting down on Jabber so hard he bled was almost as good as actual drugs.
Jabber was so busy admiring Zanka, that he hadn't even noticed that Zanka had stopped thrusting. “Why the fuck’ya stopped?” Jabber slurred out, pushing his ass against Zanka’s — Whose cock was still inside Jabber — pelvis, in a sorry attempt to get him to keep thrusting. Zanka groaned, dropping his weight against Jabber's front.
“I jus’ came four fuckin’ times, Wonger. Give me a goddamn moment, Jesus,” He grumbled, breathing heavily against Jabber's back. Jabber grumbled something and pushed Zanka off of him, Zanka’s cock slipping out of him and making Zanka lay on his back as Jabber climbed on-top of him. “Hey, hey, hey, wait a second, what’re ya doin’?” Zanka rushed to say, looking up at Jabber with narrowed eyes.
“If you’re not gonna stick your dick in me, stick your tongue in me,” Jabber said, looking down at Zanka from where he sat in Zanka’s chest. Jabber was surprisingly light. He was still heavy as shit, of course, he was a grown dude who fought people on the regular, but he was way lighter than Zanka would’ve expected. Probably from the malnourishment that seemed to come with the ‘I Was Born on The Ground’ package you get when you’re given the gift of being born down here.
Zanka rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking up at Jabber with flushed cheeks. Sure, he’s already cum in the enemy, might as well clean it out of him while he’s at it, right? “Fine,” Zanka grumbled, and Jabber looked ecstatic as he climbed closer to Zanka’s head, lifting himself up over him and grabbing his already messy hair, before sinking down.
Jabber seemed to have no qualms about the possibility of suffocating Zanka, because he immediately put his whole weight down on Zanka’s face. It was more enjoyable than Zanka would ever admit to anyone. Zanka immediately grabbed onto Jabber’s thighs, holding him in place as he licked in and out of Jabber’s cunt, his nose nudging up against his clit now and then as he ate his own and Jabber’s cum out of him.
“Hmmph, ahahh… Ah, ugghh… Fuck yeah, y-yeah, yeah, that’s it, good puppy,” Jabber moaned out, heat rushing through his body as he grinded down slowly on Zanka’s face. Jabber’s jaw and cheeks hurt from how much he's been smiling by now, a nice, low hum of aching spreading through his jaw and neck, and he left a shiver run down his spine when he heard the gross sound of Zanka slurping up his own goddamn cum from out of Jabber. “Damn, you are filthy, man!” Jabber said with an airy chuckle and shaky voice, pulling Zanka’s already impossibly close face closer, and he put one hand on the metal bedframe in front of him as he grinded harshly in Zanka’s face. It wasn’t obvious if Zanka could properly breathe or not, but Jabber was sure if Zanka had enough he would just throw Jabber off of him.
The two didn’t really have a safe word, mainly because Jabber’s limit was up in space, and Zanka’s way of saying he’d had enough was to just throw Jabber off of him or simply say ‘I’m done’. So far it has worked out, so why fix what isn’t broken?
Jabber moaned when he felt Zanka’s nails digging into his thighs once again. He already had bloody trail marks across his back from Zanka, why not add some on his thighs? “P-Please, please, please, c'mon, bad boy, get a-a little rough, won't you?” Jabber mumbled, his eyes shut tightly as he leaned forward, his head resting against the bedframe. When he opened his eyes, he was met with the lovely sight of Zanka looking back up at him, still tonguing Jabber’s wet cunt, his nose completely buried in Jabber’s pubic hair.
Jabber licked his lips, still looking Zanka in the eyes as he let out a shaky breathe, and he whined when Zanka wrapped his lips around his clit and sucked, even getting his teeth in there and Jabber was almost certainly sure that it was a mistake, but he definitely wasn’t going to complain. “F-Fuck, fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna cum — ahhahh — a-again, gonna- gonna cum, fuck, fuck, Zanka,” Jabber came for the sixth time that night with Zanka’s name spilling out from him like a leaky faucet. He isn’t sure if he pushed himself off of Zanka’s face or if Zanka did, but either way he ended up on his back, his head right next to Zanka’s thighs, and his feet pressed up against the pillows.
After what was probably the most peaceful five minutes of Jabber’s life, Zanka sat up, wiping his mouth with his hands, and cringing when he saw the remaining spots of his cum. “Why the fuck did I do that again?” Zanka grumbled, and he looked on the verge of gagging as he shook his hand, trying to get the sticky, wet and white substance off.
Jabber giggled, rolling his legs up so his feet were right by his ass, and he smiled up at Zanka. “A good fuck will do crazy things to the mind, Mr. Bad Attitude,” He teased, and Zanka just grimaced at him, grumbling something under his breath. Jabber sat up slowly, tonguing his cheek and tilting his head, before he pushed Zanka back down on the bed and got on-top of him.
“Wha–” Zanka started, but whatever he was going to say left his mind as Jabber licked across his bottom lip, his hand grabbing the back of Zanka’s neck as he did so. When Jabber pulled back, he had a smug grin on his face, and Zanka blinked at him a few times before responding. “What the fuck is wrong with ya’?” He said simply, and Jabber gave him a wide, toothy grin in reply.
“Chillaxe, man, you had some cum on your face, I'm simply helping you clean up,” Jabber said in an uncharacteristically soft voice, and he inched closer to Zanka, before pushing Zanka’s head closer and engulfing him in a kiss.
Zanka immediately reciprocated, his hands going to Jabber’s face, holding him in place as Jabber opened his mouth, allowing Zanka in. Zanka’s hands travelled all over Jabber’s body. Running across his rough, scarred arms, running down his chest and briefly squeezing Jabber’s breasts to draw a low moan out of him. He moved his hands down Jabber’s sides, squeezing his thighs momentarily before grabbing Jabber’s hips and pulling him closer, so close that Jabber’s front was right up against Zanka’s chest.
Jabber squeezed the back of Zanka’s neck harder, his other hand moving to Zanka’s nipples to roll them in-between in fingers, and relish in the way Zanka’s breathing came out in short little shaky breaths. Jabber bit down on Zanka’s bottom lip, biting so hard it began to bleed, and in return Zanka bit Jabber's bottom lip so hard that Jabber swore he felt the flesh break apart.
Jabber moaned aloud, kissing Zanka with more teeth than tongue, kissing him like he was trying to eat Zanka, or encouraging Zanka to eat him instead.
Zanka pulled back, his lips blood red, matching Jabber’s, who was already biting down on the open wounds on his lip. “Have you ever done that before?” Jabber asked, and Zanka raised a brow.
“What? Kissin’?” He asked, and Jabber snorted.
“No, I mean eating someone out. You’re pretty good at it,” Jabber mused, playing with the hair at the back of Zanka's neck, feeling a lot more loose and relaxed after having six back to back orgasms. Jabber was usually like this after sex, less vulgar, easy to have a conversation with, but it never lasted long. Usually.
Zanka gave Jabber a small shove, laying back on the bed, and avoiding eye contact. “Uhh… N-Nah, no, I haven’t,” He hesitantly replied, and Jabber raised his eyebrows.
“Really? What about that red haired chick, you know, the one that shot me a bunch? You never done anything with her?” Jabber asked, and Zanka looked at him with wide eyes and a grimace.
“Hell nah, one, she’s a lesbian, two, she’s like an annoying little sister, even thinking about her like that makes me wanna claw my eyes out,” Zanka said, rubbing at his eyes with his palms. Jabber let out a raspy chuckle, leaning down to lean on-top of Zanka, his dreads falling down beside him, creating almost a wall around Zanka, making it impossible to look at anything other than Jabber.
“Then how’d you learn to move your tongue like that, huh? You reading books or something?” Jabber said with a giggle, like the idea of Zanka reading about how to properly give cunnilingus made him wanna curl over and laugh his ass off. Zanka covered his eyes with his arm, and turned his head away, and Jabber paused his giggling to look down at Zanka. “No…” He started, and when Zanka didn’t uncover his eyes Jabber started laughing like a madman. “Nah, ain’t no way! Holy fuck, man, that’s hilarious!” Jabber said, climbing off of Zanka and dropping down beside him, kicking his feet in the air as he cackled. “I’m finna cry, dude!” Jabber heaved, kicking the bed a few times, ignoring Zanka’s embarrassed grumbles.
“Shut the fuck up,” Zanka spat out, hitting Jabber lightly in the chest, just making him giggle harder.
“Ahh, ahh…” Jabber sniffled, a big grin still on his face. “Don’t worry, man, I think it’s sweet! Going out of your way just so you’re a good eater, it’s adorable!” Jabber mused, poking Zanka’s side a few times while giggling softly. Zanka slapped his hand away, turning his head to look at Jabber, who was once again, chewing at the still bleeding wounds on his lower lip.
“Question, though,” Jabber said, and Zanka raised a brow. “Who have you slept with then? If not missus bang bang girl… Because I’m tryna think of possibilities but all that comes to mind is grown ass men and I sure as hell hope you haven’t slept with any of them,” Jabber said, and Zanka flicked his forehead, knowing full well that it wouldn't teach Jabber a lesson.
“Uhm… It’s really not important, I never really knew them and I have no idea where they are now,” What Zanka said did the opposite of what he hoped, because now Jabber seemed more interested. It was two different guys that Zanka slept with. When he was still training to be in the hell guard. They were never friends and they never talked about it after, so Zanka never thought about it much. Maybe it’s a bit sad that he lost his virginity to a random dude his age that very obviously didn’t really give a about him or his status, but it’s in the past, so why should Zanka dwell on it?
“Drop it, Jabber,” Zanka said, already knowing what was about to come out of Jabber's mouth. Surprisingly, Jabber listened, but the smirk on his face as he mimed zipping his lips shut told Zanka that he was about to say something much worse.
“Fine! But on one condition,” Jabber said, scooting closer to Zanka so that their shoulders were touching. “The next time we do this, I’m bringing a fun little hallucinogen I have. Trust me, fucking while high is a magical experience,” Jabber said, moving his hands in the air to put emphasis on ‘magical’. Zanka scoffed, shaking his head.
“No way,” He said, and Jabber grumbled, rolling his eyes, but his smile came back almost immediately.
“What about a knife, then? Gotta tell ya’, man, one of my biggest fantasies is you stabbing me a bunch,” He said, and Zanka looked over at Jabber, his eyes quickly scanning over the millions of straight and crooked scars on Jabber's arms and then he looked up at the ceiling, licking his lips.
“Are ya’ sure that's a good idea?” Zanka said, and Jabber's mood soured instantly, like he knew exactly what Zanka was thinking about.
“I can fucking do whatever the hell I want to myself, Zanka, fuck off,” Jabber immediately snapped, sitting up and crossing his legs, and turning away from Zanka, his body tense. Zanka stared at Jabber's still bloodied back. Zanka had lost a bit of his self control, earlier. When he had clawed at Jabber's back like a wild animal, so much so that it looked like Jabber got attacked by a wild animal.
“I ain’t never said nothin’ ‘bout nothin’, Jabber,” Zanka started, and Jabber scoffed, turning his head to glare at Zanka.
“Yeah, but ya thought it,” He spat, and Zanka looked away, sitting up and sighing. He wasn’t ever really sure what to do in these situations, when he insulted or said something to Jabber, and then Jabber showed to be genuinely offended or hurt. It was weird, seeing Jabber act like he was actually offended, since everything seemed to slide off of him like water. It was probably the change in situation, it was a lot harder to act unaffected when you were naked and vulnerable and still soaring through the afterglow of sex. Zanka knew how hard it was to be unaffected during times like this, there were multiple times that he’s snapped at Jabber for saying something that usually Zanka wouldn’t give any deeper thought if it was said in any other context
“Umm…” Zanka started, looking at Jabber. It was weird as hell seeing him like this, quiet. It was weird seeing Jabber quiet, he was never quiet. Even in his sleep, he would thrash around, snore and sometimes even talk. He wasn’t quiet, and it felt so painfully wrong. “Uh, we can do the uh, shit with the hallucinogens, if you want,” Zanka said, desperately trying to give out some kind of olive branch. It was a weird dynamic they had going on. When they weren’t given the grace of a private room, they would fight like they’re trying to kill each other, bad mouth one another to their coworkers and friends (at least Zanka did), but as soon as their clothes would come off, Zanka almost felt like he was talking to someone he was friendly with. Like a coworker who isn’t exactly your friend, but if they asked you’d probably lend them a ride or… Something.
“...” Jabber looked up at Zanka, his eyes searching Zanka’s face, before he hummed. “Yeah, fucking– great, mhmm,” Jabber mumbled out, before he crawled past Zanka and jumped off of the bed, searching for his clothes. “I gotta head out, Cthoni is probably searchin’ for me by now,” Jabber mumbled as he carefully slipped Mankira on, rubbing his fingers against the rings for a moment, as if counting them, before going back to slipping his clothes on.
“Uh, yeah, same,” Zanka said, standing up and going over to the pile where he dropped his clothes. Jabber usually just threw his clothes off when they got undressed, having not a care in the world where they might land, while Zanka went out of his way to try and keep his clothes in a pile.
After they got dressed, they both went their separate ways. Jabber opted to choose the less practical route by going out the window, while Zanka stuck to the… More common route by using the front door of the hotel. They didn’t have a way of contacting one another, in fact most of their meetups were spontaneous decisions after they had beaten the shit out of one another. Zanka found himself hoping that they’d meet again soon, no matter how naïve and silly the hope was.