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After hours of intense studying, Zanka finally allowed himself a moment of rest. He set his pencil down, taking note of the persistent ache in his fingers from gripping it too tightly, the table covered in neatly annotated notes with incredible detail. Just as a Nijiku should.
(“Finally finished…”) he thought to himself, exhaling deeply and tilting his head towards the ceiling of the library. A faint smell of books and freshened fabric hung heavy in the air. It was oddly comforting, a cozy scent that made the endless studying somewhat more bearable. Yawning, Zanka reached for his phone.
He had a couple messages from his friends, no doubt Riyo was spamming his inbox again, but…
“...Shit, it's that late already?” The time read 8:46pm - and the library closed at 9pm sharp. Semiu, the librarian, did *not* play about the closing time, either.
Rubbing his eyes, he hastily started to pack up his pencils and schoolbooks, placing them neatly in his bag and getting up. Zanka did a once-over of the table to make sure he hadn't left anything behind before turning to leave. With the books he’d borrowed in his hand, Zanka made his way back to their original shelves.
He glanced lazily over rows of books, wandering deeper into the tangle of shelves. “Where was the m section again..?”
After turning a couple of corners, Zanka spotted somebody sleeping off in the corner of the library, a warm lamp shining down on them. He stilled for a second as realization clicked in his head.
That was- that was Jabber?
Eyes narrowing, Zanka came to a halt. Jabber was always irritating him in class, stopping by in the hallways just to poke fun at him. He was attractive and knew how to talk to people, at least that much made him slightly endearing. More than Zanka would like to admit.
Jabber Wonger? In the library of all places?
Sure, his grades in chemistry were unmatched, but otherwise everyone knew Jabber hadn’t cared for any subject all that much. Zanka had never thought of the man to be interested in reading, his fast and energetic personality greatly contrasting from the calmness of it. Zanka’s brows furrowed.
“What the hell’s he doing here… and so late at night?” books long forgotten, Zanka chewed the inside of his cheek. From this distance, he could see the way Jabber’s face was half smushed into a book, out cold.
He better go check on him- on the book. It could be damaged after that sort of treatment. Maybe his drool had stained the pages. Semiu would freak.
Yeah.
Cheeks flushing slightly, Zanka slowly made his way towards Jabber, holding his own books tight in his hand.
Up close, he looked rather serene, asleep. The air was still around the two of them, quiet except for the sound of Jabber’s slightly muffled breaths against the book, oblivious to his sudden presence.
Zanka hesitated slightly before placing a hand on Jabber’s shoulder.
“Hey. Jabber. Wake up.” he shook him gently, to no response. He frowned, leaning in closer, noticing the man’s fluttering long lashes. He was infuriatingly good-looking.
“Can yer hear me? I said, wake up, cmon…”
A few seconds later, Jabber stirred. He groaned under his breath and cracked a confused eye open, sitting up slowly. He yawned, almost cat-like, rubbing his eye against the back of his hand.
“...What…” he mumbled, turning to face the warm grip on his shoulder.
Jabber’s face lit up with surprise. “...Zanka??-” he turned to face him, a sly grin spreading from the corners of his mouth, hair clasps clinking against each other.
“Ya need something?”
Zanka sighed upon hearing the mischievous tone to his voice. His eyes focused back onto the book Jabber had been sleeping on.
“Nah. Ya shouldn't sleep on the books, dumbass. Semiu’ll kill you.” He couldn't stop his curiosity from bubbling up.
“What’re yer doing here anyway, this late at night? Didn’t think you’d be the type of person to go to the library.”
Jabber shrugged, picking up the book he’d been sleeping on and turning the cover towards Zanka. On it read "Poisonous Plants and Where to Find Them.”
“I like reading about this stuff. It’s nice, but I don’t stay here most of the time… cus I fall asleep.” he groaned, running a hand down his face again, smile falling. “Shit man, what time did ya say it was?”
Zanka reached for his phone in his pocket, looking at the screen.
“It’s 8:48.”
“8:40- fuck dude, I’m so screwed…” Jabber flopped back onto the desk, pouting. “My place is far from here, and not the best at night…” he muttered under his breath.
“ “Not the best at night?” ” Zanka repeated, urging Jabber to continue. Time was running out and he still had to return his books, but he couldn’t just leave him.
Jabber peered back up at him, face half hidden by thick wicks. “Not the nicest area. Sure, I’d probably be fine, but… man, whatever. What are *you* doing here so late too?” he grinned, fingers tapping against the desk in a gentle rhythm, rings clinking quietly in the night.
“Studing for the maths exam.”
“Figured as much. Ya can’t go a day without studying, huh?”
“Please don’t tell me you aren’t...”
Jabber only winked in response. “Whatever, Mr. Bad attitude~!”
Zanka groaned, shifting back on his heel. “Don’t call me that, idiot. What’re ya gonna do about going home, then? Your parents can’t pick yer up or somethin’?” he fiddled with the maths book still held in his hand.
Jabber quietened for a second, the words heavy in his mind. His eyes tore away from Zanka’s, almost guilty, before snapping back as if the words were like cold rocks on his tongue. He shrugged. “.. Nah. Dunno. I’ll figure it out. Let’s just dip before Semiu beats our asses black and blue…”
Zanka nodded in agreement. Jabber got up slowly, almost swaying on his feet as the afteraffects of his nap and the pair headed towards shelves to return their books. Jabber spoke endlessly of his beloved plants, Zanka listening politely beside him, until it was time to head to the exit. For once, they did not bicker, a calming mood engulfing both of them like a blanket.
However, a persistent thought nagged at Zanka while the dreadhead yapped his ear off, grinning from ear to ear.
(“My place is far from here, and not the best at night…”)
…
Swallowing deeply, Zanka stood still for a moment.
“Oh, and did you know that this plant-”
“Actually, Jabber… d’you wanna hang at my dorm for tonight?” he choked on his words slightly, a steady nervousness settling in his stomach like bad food. “Y’know, since your place is too far…”
Jabber stared back at him as if Zanka had just slapped him around the face. Taken aback, he swallowed the rest of his words. Then, those stricken features melted into glee.
“Yo, seriously? You’re not pulling my leg or something?”
“I-no, I mean it.” He paused for a second.
(“Cmon, act confident!”)
“Ya can always sleep on the couch or something. Maybe.”
A sudden fond smile transformed Jabber’s features. He glanced down at his hands, fiddling with his rings idly, tossing the words over in his mind. “Thanks, man. Wouldn’t have expected that from ya. Aren’t you full of surprises, Mr. Bad Attitude!”
“Shut up before I change my mind, idiot…”
“No promises, Mr. I-have-a-stick-up-my-ass-”
“Jabber!”
.
…
..
.
The walk back to Zanka’s dorm was oddly…peaceful. Uncommon for the two of them - and that’s an understatement.
Jabber stuck close to Zanka’s side, the cool October breeze biting at both their fingertips, brushing occasionally. It made something soft stir deep inside Zanka’s stomach whenever he felt the cool metal of Jabber’s rings graze his hands.
(“Whatever. It’s fine.”) He said to himself, as if his heart wasn’t running mini-marathons.
(“It doesn’t mean anything.”)
Jabber had grown quieter, his posture slouching ever so slightly - he was probably still tired from his earlier nap. They continued to chat quietly about mundane things that passed them by, the streetlamps flickering above them as time went by.
As they neared the campus dorms, Zanka turned to face Jabber again, who had been quiet for at least 5 minutes. He was fiddling with his rings again, eyes set on the palms of his hand.
“Your rings are nice.” Zanka mumbled into the night. Jabber’s head flicked up to meet his gaze and nodded. It was strange to see him so … calm? Compared to his usual boisterous character.
“Thanks, man. Got ‘em from my mama a long while ago. Been wearin’ them ever since.” Jabber folded his hands and put them back into his pockets. Zanka hummed in acknowledgement. “I try to keep ‘em clean as much as possible, but sometimes chem practicals fuck with my flow. Y’know, the chemicals and stuff get everythin’ a little dirty.”
“Can’t yer just take em off?” Zanka tilted his head in confusion. “How’dya even fit them under your gloves?”
Jabber shrugged, head tilted towards the sky. There was a beat of silence, before a playful grin formed on his face.
“Nah. Don’t feel like it. Gloves can be a waste of time, anyway.”
Zanka sighed, following his gaze up towards the sky, clouds heavy as if holding unshed tears of rain.
Everything about this was so weird.
(“God, why did I agree to this…”)
He hated to admit it - Zanka was enjoying their quiet time far too much.
.
…
…
..
.
“Zan-Zan, where’s ya dorm at? My legs are 5 more steps from falling off, dude…” Jabber groaned, following behind him sluggishly through the dormitory hallways. “How do you even live in a dorm … it's too much walking … and ya just had to live on the third floor …”
“You literally live so far away that you can’t make it home for the night. How is this any worse?”
“Zan-zannn…”
“Quit yer whining, Jabber -” he whispered, irritated. “People are sleeping. It’s nearly 9.”
“Zaaankkaaa….”
“Shut up!”
Finally reaching his dorm, Zanka fumbled inside his bag, searching for his keys. Jabber leaned against the doorframe with an arm braced above himself, eyes closing for a few seconds.
“Don’t talk too loud when we get in. Follo might already be in bed-”
Zanka turned the key to the door, pushing it open while still looking at Jabber’s tired face, only to turn back and face-
Follo. Very much awake, and certainly not alone-
Kissing someone *very* intensely on the sofa with the TV running forgotten in the background. The pair hadn't even noticed the door opening.
Zanka’s jaw dropped to the floor. He could practically taste the carpet in his mouth.
Jabber burst out laughing behind him, startling Follo and prompting him to turn around - and turn a very deep shade of red.
“Not interrupting somethin’, are we?” Jabber teased, spotting the other person still breathing heavily beneath Follo. His laughter ceased immediately.
“Hold on - wait -
Is that FU!?”
A raw burst of laughter made the dreadhead double over from laughing. Zanka was still staring at them, like a fish straight out of water.
“No. Way.”
“I- uhm…” Fu flushed, rushing to his feet so fast he nearly tripped over himself. Follo followed hurriedly after, dashing towards Zanka, embarrassment more than evident in his face. “Listen- uhm, I- we-”
“Nope. Whatever that is… you two just… continue? Yeah.” Without a second glance, Zanka grabbed Jabber’s hand and practically dragged the hysterical man over to his room, slamming the door behind them. He was still wheezing by the time they were out of sight. Zanka sighed deeply, dropping his bag at the foot of his bed.
“...I guess yer not sleeping on the sofa…” Zanka whispered, frazzled.
“Wow- damn man, would’ve never expected THOSE two to be getting busy together!” Jabber wiped a stray tear from his eye, staring intently at Zanka through the darkness of his room. Zanka rolled his eyes in response.
“Yeah… that was… unexpected.”
“That’s an understatement, dude!”
“Whatever, man. Let’s just go to bed before I bust a blood vessel or somethin’.”
“Heard ya, Mr. Bad Attitude.”
Jabber watched quietly as Zanka moved to clear his bed, shuffling his bag further towards the wall. Zanka’s room was unsurprisingly very tidy, aside from the cluster of revision notes covering his desk. Despite this, the room was practically plain, with colder accent colours decorating various furniture. It was very much reminiscent of its owner.
Jabber’s fuschia eyes almost glowed under the light of the moon, half lidded but still brimming with an intense emotion, observing oddly silently. Zanka finished and turned back to face him.
A ghost of a smile traced his lips, overlapped with exhaustion. Zanka held his stare before stepping closer.
“Cmon. I don’t figure ya have any of your own clothes, so I’ll lend ya mine. You can change in the bathroom there-” he pointed to the door to the left of Jabber. The dreadhead nodded in response.
Just as Zanka turned back to dig in his closet, a cold hand gripped his wrist. Jabber’s head hung to the floor…
… almost shy?
He took a rattled breath, murmuring faintly.
“Wait-
…Thank you. For this.”
Zanka’s heart short circuited. He noticed the night’s shine illuminating Jabber’s figure, casting gorgeous silvers like stars across the cuffs in his hair, constellations dancing on his rings.
“It’s okay, Jabber.”
.
…
…
.
A while later and the two of them were beneath Zanka’s bedsheets, chatting quietly. The sound of the TV playing from the other room hummed in the background, along with the soft call of birds from outside the window. Zanka was face-to-face with someone he’d least expect to be, comfortably tucked beneath his blankets, legs grazing each other at every shift.
“Hey, d’you think Follo and Fu are still goin’ at it?” I mean, the TV’s still runnin’...” Jabber quietened down, giggling under the palm of hand, as if to listen for the sound of their voices. Zanka stifled a laugh, slapping him playfully.
“Stop, idiot!” he sighed, turning to face the ceiling. “Imagine Riyo’s face when she finds out…”
Jabber cackled at that, to which Zanka rolled towards him quickly and slapped his hand over the dreadhead’s mouth with a loud “SHUSH.” He felt like a stupid teenager again, up late at night, giggling childishly.
Jabber hummed beneath his fingers, hands tracing the edge of Zanka’s arms softly. They both froze for a moment.
Zanka was fully on top of Jabber, a leg on each side of his waist, faces inches apart. He didn’t dare to breathe, biting his lips and holding eye contact.
Jabber was still smiling yet softly, unreadable emotion written in his irises. His locks were spread like a halo on Zanka’s pillow, angelicly glimmering under the moonlight.
A beat passed.
“...hey, Zanka?
Let’s stay like this for a while longer.”
Then another.
“...Sure.”
Cold arms wrapped around his waist. Jabber pulled him closer towards himself, nearly nuzzling into Zanka’s neck. He felt heat rush to his cheeks and the tops of his ears.
Slowly, he leaned in gently, curling into the heat.
“G’night, Zan-zan…”
“Night, Jabber…”
The two remained tangled like ribbons throughout the whole night, casting the world aside, drowning in each other's steady grip.
Whatever happened in the morning didn’t matter right now.
(“Just for tonight, this is okay…”)
Zanka smiled to himself. Sleep rolled in like waves of dark fog, before ultimately drowning him in an odd sense of comfort.
(“Just for tonight.”)