Archive of Our Own

Zanka had always been taught to block out distractions.

Before he’d forgotten his aspirations of joining the Hell Guard, that was the first thing that was drilled into him. Anything that could, and would, prevent him from doing his job had to be ignored. If not, dealt with.

Yet, his mind was full as he walked- full of thoughts that didn’t feel his own. He couldn’t hear himself think, or conjure a thought that wasn’t about the Raider that swirled in his mind: Jabber.

It had been exactly a month since he’d last been with him- last he fought him.

Jabber somehow always found him on missions. He never sought Riyo or Enjin or anyone better capable of handling someone as unpredictable as him because Zanka was the “most fun,” as he’d last said.

Every day and night it was routine that Zanka would study fighting forms, train his muscles, and his agility. He’d keep a clear head and perfect himself until there was nothing left to chisel.

Any other fight he was useful- he was the winner. But no matter how far Zanka was able to push himself in a fight against him, Jabber would win. A sudden immunity, a new poison with mankira, or his ruthless nature was always the cause.

Now when he trained, Jabber lived in his head. An extra rep to beat him, another hour to finish him. But it wasn’t something he could pick up and leave. Even on the mundane, Zanka thought of him: If Jabber were training, being a fool, or most certainly bothering the other Raiders.

Zanka knew he’d gotten stronger, especially since his first fight with Jabber, so why wasn’t he better?

And the entire time during their fights, Jabber would wear a cocky smile, as if playing with fodder.

His smile, his smile, his smile.

Zanka’s hand gripped lovely assistaff with strength he’d have to keep controlled if he didn’t want it to break.

Trying to focus on the still air or the light creaking of the trees surrounding him didn’t help clear his mind.

How deep Jabber was able to squirm under his skin was beyond him. Only someone as sporadic as Jabber could make Zanka loathe to the point it hurt.

He scoffed at himself, pausing his trail to look around. Long, spindly trees cluttered around densely- a forest of gray.

Team Akuta was dispatched to the north side of the Ground. The small town that requested their help claimed a trashbeast had destroyed homes and ran into the forest that bordered the town. Out of concern for their safety, they wanted assurance it was gone.

To cover more ground, Enjin had the team split up to search different sections of the forest. “If you find the beast and need help, get real loud over your choker, start a show, and we’ll come and find you,” as he’d said.

Zanka frowned at the stillness of the forest. It was quiet, a maze- he doubted anyone would be able to find him if he did need help. Regardless, he was confident he could win in a fight against a trashbeast of all things.

“This sucks,” Zanka murmured, “ain’t shit here.”

He figured he’d already searched a good distance. Tread any deeper, he might find a trashbeast that was far enough from the town anyways.

Zanka brought his choker up to his mouth, “I’m gonna head back to the village, no trashbeast on my side.”

When a lack of response came, he sighed, wondering if the trees were causing an interference over the line.

Turning around on his heel, he started walking from where he came. A low whistle blew from his cheeks as assistaff was held lax in his hands.

From above, there was the light creak of a branch moaning under stress like an old man. Zanka paused before letting a soft chuckle pass from his lips.

That was the fourth time he’d heard a tree branch crack in the past few minutes of him pacing his steps. There was no wind, nor any critters that could be scurrying along the oak. And even if there were, none were heavy enough to make an audible sound he could hear from meters below.

He wasn’t as alone as he thought.

Whipping assistaff eagerly in his palm, the blue weapon whirled into a vibrant hue as the curved top lit; the bandages that wrapped the stick now gone.

Once again, the forest had gone serene.

“Paranoid, maybe, but cautious always,” Zanka thought to himself, craning his neck to look upwards at the trees. Despite how thin the trees were, how high they stretched made it difficult to see if anyone were hiding behind them.

He clenched his teeth, not fond of the idea of someone looking down at him with curious eyes, or a snarling grin.

“If you're raider scum, I'll deal with you promptly,” Zanka called, his voice carrying loudly over the silence that responded. “Just come down so I can see yer ugly face.”

This felt all too familiarly odd.

“I heard you, so why pretend-“

“Zanka,”

A clear voice dripping with poisonous sweetness said his name, enunciation on the K.

Zanka’s body locked in place like a statue. He couldn't even move his eyes.

It was Jabber, no doubt about it. But, was he scared of him? He couldn’t possibly be.

Breaking himself out of the iced-state he was in, Zanka tracked the source of the voice, eyebrows nearly stitched together.

Out of the corner of Zanka’s eye, a cold glint of metal shone from a tree to his right.

“You a smart cookie, ain’t ya? I for real thought I was being all stealthy and shit,” Jabber laughed to himself, borderline hysterical.

Thick claws plunged themselves into the old bark, a violent sound of chipping wood filling the air as Jabber slid down the tree. The entire time, his eyes were locked on Zanka, his smile wide and creasing the corners of his mouth.

Lovely assistaff was already pointed towards Jabber as he reached the ground. Zanka kept cool-composure and leveled eyes, but he couldn’t deny that butterflies were flying every which way in his stomach. He gripped his staff tighter.

This didn’t feel right. No fear occupied him, but his heart was beginning to race, and the bugs in his stomach wouldn’t stop wriggling. It was like anticipation- even excitement.

“What ya doing all alone out here?” Jabber inquired. Every step he took forward, Zanka took two steps back. He smiled, a small giggle coming from his throat. “Where’s your team?”

Zanka knew he couldn’t let his feelings get the better of him. If Jabber were here, that meant other Raiders could be, too. Them trying to jeopardize the mission could mean this was a bigger deal than Enjin led on.

“I’m wonderin’ the same things,” Zanka grunted, “why are the Raiders here?”

Jabber brought his hands up to his chin, massaging his skin as he wore the same grin. He theatrically displayed pondering before admitting, “I’m the only one here. Don’t have a problem admitting that.”

Confusion seeped into Zanka’s expression.

“Then what’s his goal? And how’d he find me without the other Raiders?” He’d grimace internally, lifting assistaff to be aligned with Jabber’s head.

“What, you a stalker now?”

The question sparked a flare in Jabber’s eyes. “Sure, if that’s what you wanna call me. Hell if I care. I’m just a guy willing to do anything for his fun.” He shrugged off his answer as if his “fun” didn’t entail almost killing someone. Still, he added, “Stick-ups like you probably don’t get that- don’t understand that you’re fun.”

At his words, Zanka couldn't help but ask something that had extended its stay in his mind, “When you say I'm ‘fun’, do’ya mean as an opponent, or as a toy?”

A pout puckered Jabber’s lips. “Awe, I can feel you’re itchin’ towards making this a bad time, Mr. Bad Attitude.” His smirk still returned, “I just have a good time with you, ‘s all.”

Zanka narrowed his eyes at Jabber. Disregarding the irritation he felt at being an object for someone’s entertainment, it dawned on him he was indulging in Jabber’s casual conversation. He couldn’t believe his own ludicrosity.

Yet, it was surprisingly admirable to Zanka that Jabber had managed to converse this long without attacking him. Even if the lightskin’s crazed eyes were assaulting him enough.

Then, from his wrist, the sound of warbled static lit Zanka’s choker.

“Riyo and I…trashbeast…larger than-”

The choker cut out after managing to convey bits of Rudo’s message. Zanka’s eyes shot up in surprise that they’d found the trashbeast.

It didn’t sound like they were in distress, but Zanka knew it was in his best interest that he make his way to them. Not too far from him, where Riyo was supposed to be searching, a giant plume of dust erupted. Faintly, there was the sound of trees crackling and falling against the hard dirt.

Jabber’s eyes trailed from the commotion back to Zanka. His smile fell.

“You ain’t thinking of leaving, are you?” All traces of humor in Jabber’s voice were gone. He was almost never serious, so for him to switch so suddenly was jarring. “I came all this way to see you, Z.”

It wasn’t Jabber’s whine that made Zanka want to stay and fight, instead, his own pride.

Yet, Zanka took a solid step backwards.

His team needed him.

Jabber’s cheery yet intimidating demeanor turned cold. He was upset that Zanka wanted to flee- like it was an insult.

As if a predator loading before launching, Jabber shifted his bottom weight.

Asudden, Zanka launched off the ground, sprinting through the woods with assistaf held tight in his hand. Jabber was already close behind, clawing into the trees to propel himself closer.

Each part of Zanka was urging him to turn around. Running away from a fight seemed taboo. It made him feel as chicken as he’d convinced himself he was lately. Every thought that had been tormenting him lately was making his head pound.

Mankira swept for his face, with Zanka nearly dodging the attack. He used lovely assistaff to block the claws, but the force launched him back. His staff was able to balance him enough to let him keep running.

“C’mon, you’re fucking killing my vibe, man! You can't run from what hasn’t even started!” Jabber yelled behind him.

“He’s just a distraction.” Zanka rehearsed the thought in his mind until an abstract thought appeared.

Being a Cleaner, it was his responsibility to rid the Ground of filth. Jabber was keeping him from getting to his team, it being clear the Raider wouldn’t stop until either Zanka was dead, or fought back.

A soft smile spread across Zanka’s face.

In order to be true to himself, he had to fight. In order to be true to his job, he had to get rid of all distractions.

Zanka suddenly stopped, causing Jabber’s eyes to widen with ecstaticism. Zanka whirled his assistaf behind his back before plunging it into Jabber’s side.

The strength of the strike caused dribbles of blood to sputter from Jabber’s mouth. Yet, as he was launched back into trees, a large smile had come onto his face.

“There’s the real Zanka!” Jabber spat with excitement, staggering upright. “Thought I lost you there!”

Zanka walked closer, his eyes shining as bright as the Sphere’s sky. He spun his staff onto his shoulder. “Don’t get too excited,” he purred, looking down on Jabber with a glare, “yer still about to get a major ass beating.”

Each new fight with Jabber was a new opportunity to win. And, luckily enough for him, Jabber was begging for a fight so much he practically landed himself in his lap.

As he straightened himself out, Jabber shivered, shaking his head with fervor as he cackled manically. He raised his right claw, pointing at Zanka before shaping a heart in the air.

Zanka’s face scrunched, and he let out a soft exhale.

Jabber took off first, clawing into the ground before dashing down and targeting Zanka’s waist. Zanka was able to dodge, but was forced into close combat with Jabber after. Jabber pulled Zanka’s body close, pressing himself against him and trying to stab him before Zanka would push him off.

Every claw, Zanka retaliated with a block or blow from lovely assistaff. What was most important, he had to remind himself, was to not get struck by the neurotoxin. If that were to happen, the fight might as well be over.

Using the curve of lovely assistaff, Zanka tried to launch Jabber back into the trees. Jabber grabbed onto the base of the pole, attempting to slice Zanka’s face. Zanka almost got nicked, having to retract himself before getting hit with his own weapon by Jabber.

Zanka activated his staff, hitting Jabber before attracting his weapon back to his hands. Leaping into the air, he smacked Jabber down, the base of his staff digging into Jabber’s stomach and sending him plummeting into the ground.

Having him pinned down, Zanka dug assistaf deep into the ground, choking Jabber by the neck. Jabber laughed, spewing blood, dizzy.

Jabber tried to pierce Zanka’s side before Zanka would twist his staff and send the deadhead dragging through the dirt.

“Shit!” Jabber smiled, picking himself up and turning around vehemently. “You’ve gotten stronger, haven’t you?” He cheesed, licking the stray blood from the corner of his lips.

To have his efforts praised from the very man he’d trained so hard to beat caused a smirk to appear on Zanka’s face. This winning feeling- looking down on Jabber- he couldn’t help but smile back.

Jabber assessed Zanka’s face before breaking out into a giggle. “You just like me, ain’t ya?”

The idea of being compared to scum like Jabber quickly dampened Zanka’s mood. His smile faltered.

“I ain’t nothin’ like you,” he growled, watching as Jabber came closer, assistaff ready in hand.

“You can deny it all you want, but the eyes don’t lie.” Jabber smirked, stopping a distance away. Zanka lifted lovely assistaff, it being inches away from touching Jabber’s chest.

His stomach was squirming again.

Jabber held Zanka’s eyes, enjoying watching the fury in his eyes muddle into silent contemplation.

He lifted his hand to hold Zanka’s staff. “Admit it, you’re just as fucked-“

Zanka hit Jabber with all the strength he could, the stick hitting him vigorously. Jabber let out a yelp as he coughed up blood, firming his grasp on the stick to keep himself from flying through the air. He dropped down and swept Zanka off of his feet, laughing wildly as he whacked Zanka with his own staff.

Letting out a loud grunt, Zanka got his staff back and stabbed Jabber in his chest with all his energy and strength.

Stumbling back, Zanka launched attacks on Jabber from all sides. He bashed his head with lovely assistaff, then zipped to kneeing his stomach, and quickly transitioned into landing a sharp blow to Jabber’s back.

Without realizing it, Zanka was smiling again. He had never felt so happy, letting a feral, genuine laugh come from his throat.

Jabber was bloody with pure shock vexing his face. His eyebrows were ridged on his forehead as he struggled to catch his footing.

“Look at you, yer dancing!” Zanka cackled, trapping Jabber in the curved part of assistaf before spinning it around and plunging his head into the hard dirt.

Zanka would pause to catch his breath, assistaff still plunged into the ground with a twitching Jabber. Blood gushed from Jabber’s head.

Looking down at himself, his clothes stained with Jabber’s blood, the only thing he could feel was pride. Shame never crossed Zanka’s mind.

Inflicting pain never felt so good.

A second passed, then another, and Zanka wondered if he’d done it. Surely, the sucker had been through worse. That couldn’t be it.

Fighting Jabber was exhilarating- tingly- maybe that’s what the dreadhead was rambling about earlier. That “fun.” It made Zanka think to the last time he’d actually had fun with an opponent- not that it was at all needed. This was a job, but the “fun” did make it more tolerable through excitement.

“Quit pretending you’re dead,” he murmured, more so to himself, lifting lovely assistaff off of an unmoving Jabber. Zanka scoffed, poking Jabber hard on his head. “Ah, get up! I launched a giant-ass boulder on you once- you ain’t dead.”

“Cut it out!” Jabber yelled, his voice cracking at the end. He sounded airy, slowly lifting himself up. Zanka smirked before the ground beneath him crumbled and he was flung into the air.

By the time Zanka managed to stabilize himself, Jabber was already standing, hunched over, blood dripping from his heaving mouth. His claws were massive, like how they were in the cave. His true form.

“I was tryna be nice so our fight lasted longer, seeing I thought you were a weak bitch.” He glared at Zanka, a dark bruise on his cheek. “Guess that’s my bad,” He laughed, his eye twitching as he glared at him.

Zanka scowled, “Yeah? That your excuse?”

As he stared at him, Zanka couldn’t muffle his laugh at a realization. “You don’t get to choose how your pain is given to you,” he smirked, “now shut up and just take this like a good boy, alright?”

The two jumped back into the fight at the same time. Jabber dodged a blow from Zanka, using his claws as shields. Using his momentum, he smashed Zanka into the ground. Mankira almost pierced his face, but Zanka managed to roll away in time, getting into close combat with Jabber again.

Now that mankira was enhanced, it took a lot more of Zanka’s raw strength to defend against life-ending attempts. When Zanka would try to back up for a breath, Jabber would catch up, slicing through trees to get to Zanka.

Jabber would raise his right claw to stab Zanka with the neurotoxin. Zanka braced himself, using lovely assistaff to try and block the attack. Yet, the right claw would be retracted, and the left claw would crash into Zanka’s side, sending him tumbling far along the dirt.

“Dumbass,” Jabber hissed, slowly approaching Zanka’s shuddering body that began to numb, “you got cocky.”

Hands dug in the dirt, Zanka could barely stand, stumbling over his feet as his body began to feel heavy.

Bright magenta eyes lumbered closer to Zanka, claws dragging behind him in the ground.

“You make me feel so intense, Zanka.” Jabber breathed, coming to stand over him. He tilted his head, lips curled down as they rested on a blank face.

Zanka tottered onto his feet, gripping lovely assistaff. His eyes were wide as he struck Jabber with all the strength he had left. Even with a numbed body, Zanka was able to carry enough force to land a hard blow.

Face smacked to the side, Jabber retracted all of mankira. With his slender hands, he felt where he was hit, smiling softly with bloody teeth.

His eyes darted back to Zanka, his gaze so strong and suffocating Zanka could feel it weigh on his chest.

Zanka dropped lovely assistaff, Jabber’s enjoyment making him physically violent.

“Your determination is hot.” Jabber buzzed, his face content as Zanka grabbed him by his collar and punched him. His blows were getting softer, but they stung sharply.

“Why ain’t he fighting back?” Zanka cursed in his head, his fist twitching at his side. His chest rose up and down heavily as he looked at Jabber’s bloody self.

Zanka knew Jabber was the masochism type, but this just seemed like forefitting.

“Fight back, I ain’t done yet!” Zanka hissed, shoving Jabber until he forced himself onto him, bringing him down onto the dirt with him. Zanka could move his body, though lethargically. He clenched his teeth so hard his jaw flexed. “This is still my fight.”

Zanka hated being weak, and with Jabber staring at him as if in awe while willingly taking lashes, his feelings were haywire.

Propping himself up on his forearms, Jabber sat up.

“You win,” he murmured. Jabber, again, had his demeanor suddenly change. He looked at Zanka without the slightest malice, despite him having just
tried to kill him a few seconds earlier.

Was he fucking bipolar?

A soft laugh came from Jabber, his eyes dilated, “Just hit me again, yeah?” His smug smile lifted his cheeks.

Zanka stared at Jabber like he were an alien before giving himself the same look of disbelief. Here he was, in the middle of a forest, laying on top of his enemy, legs squeezing either side of him.

When he tried to get off, Jabber placed a hand on his hip to keep him still.

Not forcing the claws in deep, Jabber used mankira‘s right claw to inject the neurotoxins into Zanka’s body. Zanka had been so stunned he didn’t even notice until the claws were already retracting, their tips soaked in his blood. The numbness was strong- he barely felt it Jabber spoke with a low rasp, “The neurotoxins in mankira trigger chemical reactions in the brain. But, mixing your obsession and hatred for me, that’s a chemical reaction a hell of a lot more dangerous than mankira.”

Zanka winced, frowning deeply. He couldn’t think of why he was okay with this, but he was. It wasn’t the neurotoxin, either- at least not yet. Maybe his brain was as fucked up as Jabber claimed it to be.

“So you dragged yourself out here to beat me up, then what?” Zanka narrowed his eyes at Jabber. “What is this? Some power display?”

Jabber sat up straighter. Zanka didn’t move back, his eyes locked on Jabber’s eyes, lips still set into a snarl. “Just chasin’ another high,” he exhaled, tilting his head, lips straight.

The rest of Team Akuta were off facing a trashbeast, and he was here, straddling a fucking Raider. Zanka couldn’t have thought of a scenario more ridiculous if he tried.

The fight was a distant yet plaguing memory. It was all a setup for this. For Jabber to cryptically confess, and for Zanka to realize he stayed in his mind for more reasons than one.

Grasping that was more painful than liberating.

Zanka raised his fist and landed another blow to Jabber’s face. He raised his knuckles high above his head before crashing it back down onto Jabber’s face, beating him until satisfied.

There had always been a lingering feeling. and now that it was upfront, vulnerable on his face, he wished he could at least identify it. Was it lust? Love? Certainly not to someone like Jabber. But as Zanka looked down at him, he noted how cruelly beautiful the Raider was. As he lay on top of him, the devil might as well have been smiling back.

Humming, Jabber would ask, “You feel the same?”

“Tch,” Zanka looked away with gritted teeth, “I dunno.”

His eyes were so intently focused on nothing, as if paying no mind to Jabber would make his feelings go away.

He’d never liked someone before. So, if this was what liking someone romantically was like, it was confusing and cruel.

It was wrong.

Zanka’s shoulders slumped. “It doesn’t feel like I won.”

“I guess I tapped out early; seeing you all mad got me so excited and I couldn’t wait.” Jabber paused. “You can hurt me more if it’ll make ya feel better, Mr. Bad Attitude.”

A light hue of red spread from Zanka’s ears to the far sides of his face. “Ya always have to be the one in control, huh?”

“Ain’t you on top?”

Zanka stared at Jabber with a fixed gaze, his heart and head pounding equally.

The toxins took their effect quickly. The world began to blur into swirls of blotched colors. Jabber’s body and warmth was the only thing grounding him. Zanka ran his hands from Jabber’s face down to his chest. He held him gently, for some reason. His intent to hurt dissolved into quick touches, with Jabber matching his need, running his hands up and down Zanka’s sides.

Zanka forced Jabber flat onto the ground, his hands digging into his shoulder. He leaned down and began to nip at the skin on Jabber’s neck. He shuddered underneath him, looking as dazed as Zanka despite lacking the influence of the toxin. Jabber slid one of his hands to the back of Zanka’s neck, massaging his nape while his other hand stayed resting on the Cleaner’s hip.

Lolling his tongue over his bite marks, Zanka trailed his lips to bite Jabber’s adam’s apple. A soft yelp Jabber released turned into light laughter. His hand clawed in Zanka’s waist at the sensation, his hips lurching forward.

His groin rubbed against Zanka’s, the sensation causing the both of them to moan.

Zanka’s eyes twitched, feeling a hard bulge press underneath him. He looked back up to Jabber, who wore a sideways smile.

“Aight, promise not to freak out- I think I’m hard-“

“You think? I fuckin’ feel it,” he snapped.

Moving to the side of Jabber, Zanka looked at the bulge with scrunched eyes. His scowl was weak on his face, as he stared at the bulge until ideas appeared in his head he didn’t want to brush away.

He brought his knee to the swell of arousal, slowly applying pressure. Jabber watched with open eyes, sharp wind hissing out his mouth. Another soft whine came from him as his hips jerked up to feel that crushing weight on his dick.

“Fuck, man.” Jabber’s hazy eyes fluttered from Zanka’s knee to his face. Zanka looked at him as if he were the most filthy thing- his knee punishing him for the swelling in his dick. It made Jabber smile. “Shit, I might nut.” he crooned, continuing to rock his hips.

Zanka didn’t stop him, watching Jabber eagerly grind against him. He bit his lip to keep a moan from slipping through.

His pants grew tight between his legs, the sound of Jabber’s whining sweetly satisfying against his ears. With Zanka’s legs open to Jabber, the lightskin had a clear view of his growing desire. Zanka didn’t say anything, wondering if he could hide it before Jabber noticed.

Jabber’s eyes darted from the bulge to his eyes, feeling it before he saw it. He didn’t open his mouth, either, keeping his smile as he adjusted his body to better support Zanka. Jabber would sit up, able to feel Zanka’s heavy breath comb his skin. His left hand still on the back of Zanka’s neck, he brought the boy closer.

Jabber’s eyes flickered to Zanka’s lips, only looking back up to his eyes when he was sure Zanka noticed.

Zanka noticed the blatant look, but would close his eyes after, submerging himself in the feeling. His face clashed into Jabber’s, who held him still, crashing his lips against Zanka’s mouth. Deeply, Jabber watched Zanka, observing as the Cleaner’s mouth shyly opened. Once Zanka’s lips parted ever so slightly, Jabber forced his tongue in, kissing Zanka as if to deprive him of air.

Blood mixed with their saliva, the sultry taste being a warm metallic. Jabber clutched the back of Zanka’s neck, digging his nails until sure to leave a mark. Zanka craned his neck back to pull away from the kiss, mouth panting as he tried to catch his breath.

Jabber lurched towards him, biting his chin before gnawing on his bottom lip till blood spurted into his mouth.

“You’re such a shithead,” Zanka grunted, words limp, “yer makin’ me act crazy.”

Leaning in towards his ear, Jabber hummed, “Glad you feel that the same,” excitement was prevalent in his tone.

Their eyes lingered on one another. Zanka swallowed thickly, wondering what Jabber saw in him so intensely it had led to all this.

“I hate you.” Zanka said it with little bitterness, though his voice had gone husky. “Open your mouth.”

With no resistance, Jabber obeyed.

Looking down on him, Zanka bloodily spit in Jabber’s mouth. Jabber’s smile stayed as he swallowed. “You mean it?” he’d gasp.
The obedience from Jabber made Zanka’s face burn red and his dick throb- his ache begging to breathe.

As Zanka tried to collect himself, Jabber began kissing him again, forcing him onto his back. Zanka didn’t resist the kiss, opening his mouth to welcome Jabber’s passionate advances. He moved his hands to scratch at Jabber’s back, beginning to squirm when he couldn’t breathe.

He bit Jabber’s tongue to get him off of him, his lips twitching upwards.

No apology came, but Jabber slid his thumb across Zanka’s bloody lip with a loving touch.

Looking up at him with cool tender eyes, Zanka scoffed.

Knowing he had responsibilities made the poison feel better, especially with them like this together. Maybe the enjoyment came from using someone for pleasure.

“I’m getting close, man,” Jabber purred, grinding feverishly against Zanka. Underneath him, Zanka wrapped his slim fingers around his throat, lazily smiling as he choked him with as much strength as he could.

His voice strangled, Jabber managed to ask, “Are you- are you gonna-“

“Shut up,” Zanka murmured softly, “just keep goin’.”

Jabber clenched Zanka’s shoulders as he frictioned their bulges for more heat, his grunts spilling out with shortening intervals between.

Zanka wondered how long they could keep this up. Would this become a regular thing? If it did, he wouldn’t mind, but what did that say about him?

A vibrant swirl of blue and green light would appear behind them, with a warbled warping sound following.

“Jabber.”

A low yet stern voice came from the light.

Zanka froze, looking up at Jabber with confusion, his hands loosening around his throat. He suddenly tried to sober himself despite his swimming mind. Getting caught like this was more terrifying than dying.

Jabber lifted his head, mouth twitching.

“Damnit, Cthoni!” He blustered, looking back, wobbling to his feet. “I’m in the middle of somethin’ here, aight!”

Cthoni didn’t move from where she stood as Jabber towered over her, seething.

“He’s been looking for you,” she spoke monotonously, her voice unwavering. Her eyes darted behind Jabber, catching sight of a scuffed Zanka.

When they met eyes, Zanka scowled, covering himself by bunching up. Jabber stepped in front of Cthoni’s view, his teeth gritted.

“Funny you say that, cus Bossman’s totally been sidelining me,” Jabber spat, “he don’t want anything to do with me.”

Zanka was able to unsteadily rise to his feet, looking at Jabber’s back before reaching for lovely assistaff.

“What are you doing with the Cleaner?”

Jabber winced.

Cthoni continued, “If you’re betraying Zoldyk, I will go tell him and leave you two alone. If that's what you want.”

He shook his head before muttering a quiet, “No.” Looking behind him, Jabber saw that Zanka was already gone. A dead chuckle left him before he turned back to Cthoni.

“Nope, was just gettin’ some fresh air and ran into the Cleaner,” he shrugged, “almost had ‘em dead before you showed up, though.”

Cthoni stared at him in silence before turning back to the portal.

“Well, hurry up then. You’ve been gone long enough.”

As she walked through the portal, Jabber followed her, though paused with only one foot in, and looked back.

Zanka had already gone, he knew that.

He pursed his lips, not knowing what he expected looking back a second time.

Jabber felt the sore skin where Zanka had bit him, exhaling softly. He entered the portal, smiling to himself.

“Until next time, Zanka.”

Even if he couldn’t feel his legs, Zanka kept running until the rest of Team Akuta were in sight.

“What a mess,” he thought, looking at himself with a deep frown. If Enjin were to see him like this- fuck, that’d be the worst.

He shivered at the picture before sliding his back down a tree, heaving, a few meters away from where they were wrapping up their trashbeast fight.

All this mess over a horridly obsessive freak that somehow matched with him perfectly. He reached down and palmed his erection through his pants, letting out a shivering grunt.

This was just a mess of feelings he’d have to sort out later.

“…where is Zanka?”

Riyo’s voice filtered through the trees. Zanka tensed, knowing he was in no condition to talk to them right now. Still, he knew they’d better finish things here and leave, as he wanted nothing more than to think alone in his room.

He was sure Jabber would occupy his mind now in ways he didn’t know possible- a bigger distraction than ever.

Bracing himself against the tree, Zanka stood, pulling up the collar of his jacket more to cover any bites- even if he knew they’d ask how he got so banged up.

Taking another deep breath, he’d start walking towards his crew.