Archive of Our Own

Music blasted through the air. It filled Zanka’s head with the pounding, erratic beat and vibrated through his bones. Colored lights flashed and lit up the dim room, glinting off piercings and jewelry and highlighting half-naked bodies. And the smell-- stale and fresh cigarette smoke, sweat, alcohol, greasy bar food-- it all melded together into an unpleasant scent that had Zanka wrinkling his nose as he followed Riyo and Enjin toward an open table. Zanka would not be going anywhere near the dancing hordes, he decided. Just walking through the crowded table space was enough physical contact with strangers for him.

Once they were all seated around the table, Enjin clapped his hands, “Aight!” He had to half-shout to be heard over the music. “First round’s on me. Anything after that is on you!” He pointed to each of them with a grin. “Don’t get into trouble, don’t cause trouble, and try not to embarrass yourselves too much. And do not leave with any strangers! All good? Got it? Good!”

Riyo appeared from the crowd and tossed a few menus on the table before dropping into the chair next to Zanka. Her arm wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him close, holding a menu up between them, “Whatcha gonna get Mr. Grumpy Face?”

Zanka rolled his eyes, but glanced over the menu. She knew full well this wasn’t someplace he’d have been happy to know they were coming. He hadn’t even wanted to come out with them until Enjin asked if he was joining them. Even though he’d folded pretty quick then, he couldn’t imagine staying as long as the rest of them might. Well, some of them might. Eisha looked about as comfortable as Zanka felt, sitting between August and Tomme and trying to look over the menu. Rudo too-- the kid was awkward enough anywhere else, let alone in places with so many people.

The menu was full of weird drink names and typical greasy finger foods. Zanka didn’t have any frame of reference for the alcohols listed in the vague descriptions under the drink names, so he had no idea what any of them might actually taste like. He didn’t bother looking at the food-- he’d made sure to eat before they came so he wasn’t drinking on an empty stomach or relying on bar food to be his dinner.

“Order me somethin’ ya think I’ll like,” Zanka finally told her.

Riyo gave him a wide, excited grin and slapped the menu onto the table, “Leave to me! Is everyone else ready? Who’s gonna help me bring it all back??” Enjin and Gris raised their hands. Zanka started to get up, but Riyo shoved him back down, “You can stay! We’ll be right back!” He was ready to argue, but she’d already turned to get a few of the others’ orders. He huffed and slumped back in his chair.

The three of them disappeared in the direction of the bar. Zanka tried to listen to any of the conversations his teammates and friends were having around him, but the music was far too loud and his head buzzed in discomfort. He resolved to make it look like he was paying attention to whatever they were saying, but the only things he could really hear were from August. Something about getting a sound system hooked up in the HQ? Zanka hoped not.

A short while later, the trio returned with a few trays full of precariously placed drinks and foods. Riyo proudly placed a tall glass in front of him-- wide at the top and tapered to a narrow bottom filled with something fizzy and… bright pink. She laughed at the scrunched look he gave the drink, like he already hated it, “Just try it! It’s supposed to taste like sugared strawberries!”

Zanka wasn’t sure how accurate that could possibly be for an alcoholic drink, but he grabbed the straw regardless and mixed the shimmery, popping liquid a bit and leaned closer. It definitely smelled like strawberry flavoring, at least, with a sharper undertone that he guessed was whatever alcohol it was mixed with.

His eyes flickered up and he caught Enjin grinning at him from over his own glass of dark liquid. A smile tugged at Zanka’s mouth at the expression. Just that was enough to tell Zanka that the man was happy he was there and participating in their little get-together. That he was trying something new and sharing the moment with his friends.

Zanka took the straw in his mouth and gave an experimental taste. It was strikingly sweet and refreshing. Enjoyable, even. He wondered briefly if there even was anything else in the drink until a second after he swallowed. Then he felt it-- the slight tingle on his tongue and down his throat. A soft warmth settled alongside it, spreading ever so slightly into his chest.

“How is it?? I got the blueberry one and it’s dangerous! Wanna try it?” Riyo pushed her own electric-blue glass toward him, green eyes bright and shiny. She was just as happy as Enjin that he’d joined them by the pride he felt rolling off the gaze.

He sighed, letting the smile finally break out a bit and slid his own glass closer to her, “Yeah, ‘s good.” So was the blueberry.

They chatted at the table for a while, drinking and picking at the food. Enjin, Follo, and August disappeared at one point to get a second round of drinks-- including a tray of shots of something dark and heavy for everyone. Zanka was ready to refuse it until Enjin held out the small glass to him, yellow eyes absolutely sparkling. How could Zanka turn it down after that?

Riyo got a good laugh out of his sputtering and coughing once they’d cheered and downed the pungent liquid. He, at least, wasn’t the only one struggling after it and chasing it with the far sweeter drink he’d actually ordered. Rudo nearly spat his out as soon as it’d touched his tongue.

Conversation came easier after that. The music fell into the background of Zanka’s mind. The warmth of the drinks and words from his friends made Zanka feel looser, lighter. He felt glad he’d been persuaded to join them and add the surprisingly pleasant experience to his life.

Around his forth drink, Zanka had gone mostly quiet, simply enjoying the presence of his teammates. Riyo was a couple more shots ahead of some of them and ready to hit the dance floor. While Zanka was still far too sober to be convinced by her, she managed to drag Eisha and Rudo along, followed far more willingly by Tomme and August. Zanka watched them vanish into the horde of flickering, multicolored bodies.

Enjin had disappeared somewhere-- probably the bar again-- leaving Zanka with Gris. Suddenly having a semi-quiet moment, Zanka became more aware of the loudness of the music and the way his body felt so strange and floaty. And that he had drank quite a lot, for him.

He pushed his chair back a bit-- something that took more effort than he thought it should-- and got to his feet. The world tilted slightly and he had to grab the back of the chair to keep himself from wobbling. Gris started to stand up, that concerned look on his face, but Zanka waved a hand and offered a reassuring smile. He hoped it was reassuring anyway. “だい-err-- ‘m good. Just, uh, just gonna use the…”

The what?

“… bathroom. Use the bathroom.”

Gris didn’t look totally convinced but nodded, “Alright. Be careful.” Zanka nodded in understanding and headed toward the back of the room, focusing intently on setting his feet firmly on the ground with each step. He thought he was doing pretty alright, and if he swayed a little more than usual, that was just on account of trying not to bump into anyone more than he had to. Definitely.

Despite the absurd amount of bodies in the building, the bathroom wasn’t super crowded. He only had to wait a minute to get his chance to piss and then stumble his way to the sink. He could still feel the passive, easy smile on his lips as he washed his hands, enjoying the coolness of the water over his warm skin. He leaned down to splash a bit of the cool liquid on his face. The shock of the cold water helped bring a bit of his mind back. He couldn’t take too long or Gris would start to worry.

He turned the faucet off and raised his head.

Deep, magenta eyes reflected back at him in the mirror. Bright. Curious. Sharp.

And accompanied by a familiar, predatory grin.

Zanka froze. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. His body knew those eyes meant danger but his brain was taking an awful long to remind him of why. His eyes flickered from the sparkling eyes to the sharp grin to the long dreads tied behind his head. A couple had been left free to hang around his deceptively pretty face.

Jabber.

The thought finally kicked him into gear. Zanka whirled around quickly, muscle memory having him reaching behind him to grab Lovely Assistaff--

--who he’d left back at the hotel room.

“Fuck-- what-” he barely caught himself on the edge of the sink as his feet caught on the floor. The room spun slowly into place around him. Not only did he not have his vital instrument-- the one thing he could really use to defend himself against this psycho-- but he was also drunk.

Jabber’s head fell back with the cackle he let out, holding his sides as if Zanka was best the joke he’d heard all day. “Careful, my guy! Not lookin’ too steady there. I knew I seen yer lil’ friends out on the floor, but man, thought I was hallucinatin’ when ya stumbled in here! And ya didn’t even notice me!”

Zanka’s fingers hurt from gripping the counter so tightly. There was still a steady stream of people moving through the room and pointedly ignoring their interaction. Zanka didn’t know how many potential victims were in the room-- he couldn’t break away from those shining, delighted pink eyes. The eyes that burned as bright and pink as the drink he’d had earlier. Eyes that had faint, coppery eyeliner around them that shimmered slightly when the raider shifted just right.

“Why- why’re ya here?”

Jabber leaned a bit closer, prompting Zanka to press himself back harder against the sink. It only served to widen the amused smirk. “Relax, man. We both off duty tonight, by the looksa it, ‘n I ain’t ‘lowed ta make any trouble. Let’s getcha some nice, fresh air, hm? Think ya could use it, Zanka-kun~”

Zanka’s brain shorted on the sing-song of his name, giving Jabber the second he needed to wrap an arm around Zanka’s waist and yank him toward the door. Zanka stumbled at the sudden, rough motion. His hands flew up to steady himself, which happened to involve grabbing onto the raider pulling him along and giggling maniacally.

“おまえ-! はな-- let go of me!” He tried to shove the raider away, but Jabber only held tighter- his nails digging into Zanka’s side through his shirt and pressing Zanka closer to his warm body. The body that was not in his raider uniform, Zanka finally realized. He was in a short, tight black tank top that left his arms and shoulders fully exposed. And a teasing slice of deliciously toned abs on display.

His what?!

Zanka’s brain lagged hard enough that Jabber managed to push open a side door and drag him out into the cold air outside.

A violent shiver passed over Zanka at the abrupt change in temperature. The cold air stung his lungs, but helped clear his head a little bit. He pushed against the raider again, ready to hiss a complaint when he suddenly found himself falling. He landed hard on his ass on the freezing concrete. “いって-! What’re ya doin’?!”

Jabber dropped down beside him, sitting close enough to brush his bare shoulder against Zanka’s. The urge to lean closer to the warm body next to him was hard to fight.

“Told ya I ain’t here fer no trouble. Take a breather, have a smoke with yer good buddy, Jabber.”

Zanka tried to get up, but between the ground suddenly tilting and Jabber quickly yanking him down by his arm, he didn’t make it very far. And now he was sitting even closer to the raider-- his arm was holding Zanka firmly around the waist against his side.

“Relax, man!” Jabber chuckled, “I got some clean shit fer Momoa earlier. It’ll be fun!” He dug into his pocket with his free hand as Zanka squirmed against him, trying to free himself from the arm locked determinedly around him. Zanka couldn’t put any real force into his attempts-- every movement that was too quick made his surroundings swirl and his vision blur.

“はなせ-!” Zanka hissed in annoyance, slamming his head back despite the nauseating way everything spun from the action. His head connected with a hard thunk against Jabber’s jaw. The raider groaned low in his throat, his hold tightening around the cleaner. Zanka cursed and rubbed the back of his now aching head. His brain felt like it was rattling around in his skull.

“Don’t know what yer spoutin’, but if ya wanna do somethin’ else I’m open, but I think you’ll really benefit from a hit offa this first~”

Zanka heard a rustling as the words filtered through the jumbled inside of his head. Then there was a flick of a lighter and Zanka’s face was flushing. “Why the fuck-- ack!” Zanka coughed as a puff of smoke enveloped his head. Jabber giggled against him and suddenly there was a joint in front of his face-- thicker than a cigarette and wrapped in darker paper. It smelled heavier and slightly sweeter than what he was used to cigarettes smelling like.

Mankira glittered under the flickering orange light above them.

As soon as the rings registered, Zanka found himself leaning away, which only pressed him further against the warm body behind him. Jabber pressed his head against Zanka’s, “C’mon man, I ain’t gonna do nothin’. Much. Or ya too scared, Mr. Bad Attitude?”

The challenge in the teasing words registered quicker than anything else had in the last hour. Zanka scowled and snatched the joint, “I ain’t scareda you.” He brought the end of the joint to his mouth as Jabber let out an excited squeak, squeezing Zanka a bit tighter.

Zanka and Riyo had stolen cigarettes from Enjin a few times in the past. Just for fun-- neither of them ever developed any desire to engage with them outside of a little rebellious fun, so they’d eventually moved on from it. Regardless, Zanka had retained an idea of how to smoke them without coughing up a lung, and somehow, he managed to pull that knowledge from the murky, hazy depths of his memories just to show Jabber that he could.

The smoke burned in his chest, heavy and stinging in his lungs until he blew it out into the darkness around them. He only ended up coughing a little bit as the tail end of the smoke got a little stuck in his throat.

Jabber clapped excitedly, laughing happily in Zanka’s ear, “Oh man I wasn’t expectin’ ya ta take it so well! Always fulla surprises, Mr. Bad Attitude-- lovin’ it!” He took the joint back and finally let Zanka put a little space between them as he turned to face the raider. Jabber grinned at him after finishing his pull and offered it back. Zanka hesitated this time, frowning at the unknown drug he’d just ingested. He didn’t feel anything yet besides a slight burn in his chest, but that didn’t really mean anything. If Jabber was also smoking it without a care next to him, it couldn’t be that bad. Right?

Zanka took the joint.

Jabber let out a few smoke rings as Zanka took in another lungful of the toxic, burning smoke. A giggle left Zanka as he tried to exhale as smoothly as he had before, making him cough a little harder, but still giggling despite his efforts to stop. A warm hand took the burning paper from his hand before he dropped it, “Shit man, already? Don’t think this is gonna do me nothin’ that good. Guess ya had, what, two drinks in ya ‘r somethin’ before this?” The raider’s laugh bounced off the walls around them, settling over Zanka’s rapidly clouding mind like a warm blanket despite the insult.

Zanka shoved him, fighting the smile trying to take over his determined frown, “No, it was… I had—”

いくつか？

Uh oh.

Zanka’s hand waved idly near his head as he tried to think. “I had, uh, よっ- よ-- no, I had four drinks.” When he looked back at the raider, he suddenly felt woozy from how the man’s outline seemed to waver and trail as he moved. Like watered down paint smearing behind him and then disappearing as it dried. Paint didn’t really work like that, though. Another giggle slipped past Zanka’s lips.

Jabber’s teeth caught his bottom lip as he watched the cleaner devolve into another short fit of giggles. Zanka couldn’t help but notice the way his sharp canines sank into the soft flesh. Then his lips were moving again, “Such a fuckin’ lightweight, holy shit. Ain’t even speakin’ real words anymore!” Those lips closed around the end of the joint again. The same place Zanka had put his own just moments before-- more than once.

He shook his head and forced himself to look up-- away from the captivating face of his mortal enemy. Away from the shimmering, amused pink eyes that threatened to trap him in a spiral of thoughts he couldn’t have. Wouldn’t have.

Looking up was a horrible mistake, though.

The smoke Jabber exhaled floated up into the saturated orange of the light above them. A light that was far brighter than it should have been. It was bright and expanding-- reaching down in tendrils of orangey-grey toward him, threatening to wrap around his brain through his ears and squeeze--

“Hey!”

Zanka suddenly found himself being shaken a bit too harshly, making his brain rattle in his head and bringing his eyes down to deep magenta orbs that weren’t as bright pink as Zanka was used to seeing them-- as bright pink as the drink he’d had earlier. Bright and ready to fight--

“Zanka, helloooooo?”

Zanka blinked a few times, but his brain wasn’t clearing much. The light made the sparkles in Jabber’s eyeliner shimmer and the cuffs in the dreads hanging around his face glitter in golden trails. Zanka hated this man. He hated how much attention the eyeliner drew his attention to the long lashes framing those pink eyes. He hated how they looked at him, a mix of amusement and curiosity and wonder. Wonder that Zanka couldn’t understand and never would because why would a genius like Jabber-- a man more naturally strong and talented than Zanka could ever hope to be-- look at him like?

Zanka’s hand came up without him realizing until the soft, warm skin of Jabber’s face was in his palm. Until those all-consuming pink eyes turned sharply down to the hand touching his face. Zanka followed them, watching his own thumb trace along the raider’s cheekbone, moving down slowly to graze his bottom lip--

Sharp teeth sank into his thumb. Zanka let out a yelp at the sudden pain, burning anger surging through his chest.

“いって-! はなせわ!”

His free hand twisted into his dreads and yanked the raider’s head back. The raider’s jaw was forced open with a pleased sound that echoed intoxicatingly in Zanka’s head. Eyelids dropped low over magenta eyes as they met Zanka’s glare with a heavy stare. Zanka felt the anger in his chest dissipate almost instantly at the look, but he didn’t release his hold. Jabber’s tongue pressed against Zanka’s thumb, slow, warm, wet. Zanka sucked in a sharp breath, his body suddenly leaning in without his permission.

Beepbeeep

Zanka’s hands flew off the raider as the sound of his choker crackled through the air. His face burned as he turned away to answer the call, “なんでねっ-- what?” Jabber stifled a laugh by biting down on his fist.

Music blasted from the device, but Riyo’s worried voice cut through, “Zanka! Where are you? Are you okay?? Gris said you went to the bathroom but it’s been a while!”

Shit. That was right. An inappropriate bubble of laughter threatened to spill out of his chest at the thought of his team being worried about him getting lost or kidnapped in the club. It was kind of accurate. Jabber had kind of kidnapped him, pulling him outside. He had to bite down hard on his lip and take a deep breath to keep his voice semi-steady.

“だいじ- I- ‘m fine. Just uh… I just had ta, y’know…” Zanka didn’t even know. “Just needed some air. Think Imma just, uh, head back?” He could barely form the thoughts in his head, let alone remember what words he actually needed to use.

There was some indecipherable muttering lost in the music. He thought maybe it sounded like Enjin, but Riyo’s voice was suddenly back, “By yourself? One of us can-”

“いや!” Zanka said quickly, panic rising in his chest. Then embarrassment as he realized what he’d said, “N-no! Y’all can stay. I… I’ll be fine. Promise.”

Enjin’s voice came through, spiking Zanka’s already heavily beating heart, “Ya didn’t get pulled off by some weirdo right? Please tell me ya didn’t-”

Jabber was shaking from how hard he was trying not to laugh. Zanka could feel it as the raider’s shoulder brushed against him. He slammed an elbow back on instinct, earning him a breathy groan he could only hope didn’t get picked up by the choker.

“No, no し-しらん- no strangers,” he struggled to say, growing frustrated with himself now.

Riyo was back, “Alright! We’ll be back eventually. Be careful and let us know if you need anything!”

Zanka cut the connection and Jabber’s laugh immediately echoed through the air around them. It wrapped around Zanka and brought the previously suppressed laugh back to the surface. Despite his best efforts, Zanka couldn’t fight it pouring out this time. His body leaned into the warmth of the man beside him on it’s own. A warm arm snaked around his waist, cutting off his laugh as he was pulled closer.

“Wanna hand getting’ ‘back’, Zan-ka-kun?” Zanka shivered at the words purred into his ear. A hand slid up his neck, cool rings stark against heated skin, and strong fingers gripped his chin, forcing him to meet heavy pink eyes. His head whirled as thoughts crashed through the cloudy haze and promptly got swallowed right back up in broken pieces. These were the eyes of his enemy. He was being held by hands that could turn into a horrible poison-filled death in seconds.

Yet those pink eyes were watching him with amusement and heat and Zanka’s lungs couldn’t remember how to draw in air anymore. He surged forward, hands grabbing at the tight, sad excuse of a shirt on the raider’s body, and crashed their lips together.

Teeth clacked together painfully. Jabber’s laugh filled his mouth with an addictive sweetness. It was messy and uncoordinated and filled with the taste of smoke and sweetness. Zanka’s eyes fluttered shut as an insistent tongue snaked into his mouth, pressed over his teeth, and entwined with his own. It was hot, it was rough, it was filthy. A moan rumbled from Zanka’s chest, momentarily breaking the heated cloud. He shoved the raider hard, pushing him away and gasping in cool air.

Jabber’s chest heaved with similar need for air. The wide, dangerous grin on his face had Zanka’s heart doing funny things in his chest. His stomach twisting almost painfully.

“Didn’t take ya as so foreword, Mr. Bad Attitude. C’mon.” Jabber was suddenly on his feet and pulling Zanka up.

As soon as his feet were under him, the world tilted. Worse than before. Zanka watched the ground rushing up to meet him with it’s hard, cold hands until it suddenly stopped. He was pulled upright, blue meeting pink again. Sharp nails dug into his arms, helping to ground him a bit more. His feet stayed steady under him. On the very solid, unmoving ground.

“Easy, lightweight. Don’t go crackin’ yer head, that’s my job. Where ya stayin’?” Jabber slipped his arm around Zanka, the other pulling the cleaner’s arm around his shoulders. Zanka’s eyes flickered from his hand on the other side of Jabber’s body to the ringed fingers gripping his hip.

どこ?

Their feet were moving-- well, Jabber’s were moving. Zanka was practically being dragged toward the road.

“Gotta know where we goin’ Zankaaaa~” Jabber sang in his ear.

An image of the building floated to the front of Zanka’s mind. The sign was right there, over the door. A little blurry, but the letters were clear enough to read. If only he could remember how to read it.

Zanka’s brow furrowed as he tried to concentrate, but the movements of his feet and the warmth of Jabber’s body pressing against him were severely limiting his ability to focus. “Uhh… I- I don’t… こ-こいう…” His hand moved in the air, drawing a rough representation of the letters he could definitely read.

Jabber’s eyes followed the movements as they stepped onto the main street, his own eyebrows knitting together. “Ya really ain’t… oohhh I gotcha.” His face lit up in another grin, “Easy. We’ll be there in no time, my guy. Ya gonna be spoutin’ that pretty lil’ nonsense the resta the night? I ain’t mind it but might make things a lil’ difficult here soon. Ya alone in yer room, right?”

Zanka couldn’t help the chuckle that shook him. He was asking that now? While he was dragging Zanka along back to his hotel room to--

...to…

Zanka’s face suddenly felt like it was on fire. He shoved his head into the crook of the raider’s neck, forcing a surprised sound out of the man. The position didn’t help any of the shameful heat spreading through his head and down his neck, but at least it couldn’t be seen.

And the feeling of Jabber’s laugh vibrating so close and clear against him was a bonus.

“Aw, don’t tell me yer gettin’ embarrassed now! Ya just stole a kiss like it was nothin’, now look atcha! Oh this’s gonna be good! Fer real though, needta know if we should be quick ‘r not.”

Oh. Zanka really didn’t need to think about what would happen if anyone walked in on him and Jabber.

“…‘n あいぼ.”

Jabber hummed under him. “What’s that? New recruit?”

Zanka scowled against his shoulder. あいぼはなんだってわ??

“Ugh me ‘n Lovely. Jus’ me ‘n Lovely.”

Jabber pressed a grin into Zanka’s head, “Right, ‘course! I was surprised ta see ya didn’t have her with ya! Can’t believe ya left her behind, how cruel!”

The words were teasing, but sent a wave of annoyance through Zanka. He raised his head and grabbed at the closest loose loc. He yanked on it harshly, making Jabber yelp in surprise. “だまれ-- clubs ain’t- ain’t no place fer my あいぼ.”

Jabber knocked his forehead into Zanka’s hard enough to make the cleaner grunt and release his hair to rub his head. “Since when ya a hair-puller, Zanka-kun?? Shoulda started that a lot sooner-- our fights woulda been a whole different kinda fun! Seriously, what language ya got going on? Ya got two names fer yer stick??”

A small smirk touched the corners of Zanka’s lips, “Some genius… Don’t even know にほんご? Only good fer… fightin’ ain’tcha?”

Jabber’s sharp grin in the dim moonlight and stray streetlight had Zanka’s breath catching in his throat. “I know ya did that one on purpose. Dontcha worry, Mr. Bad Attitude. I’ll show ya once I getcha on that bed. Gonna make a real nice messa ya.”

Zanka felt heat crawling back into his cheeks. He was never drinking again.

As soon as the door to the room shut, Zanka found himself pinned between the wall and Jabber’s heated body. Jabber’s mouth was on his again, hot, hungry, and a mix of demanding tongue and sharp teeth. Zanka’s brain was lagging behind and he didn’t have anything in the way of muscle memory to help him respond to the intensity of the kiss quickly.

Frustrated but still able to remember enough from just a few minutes ago, his hands reached up to the mass of dreads and yanked them free from their tie. When his fingers twisted sharply around a handful of them, Jabber made a pleased sound in the back of his throat that Zanka tasted on his tongue. A knee forced its way between his legs, pressing up into his growing erection and making him groan.

Jabber’s hand returned the favor and twisted in Zanka’s hair, wrenching his head to the side. The raider’s mouth was at his ear, tongue sliding between the hoop of his earring and earlobe. The violent shudder and breathy whine Zanka let out had both of them pausing.

“Oh,” Jabber breathed, “Found somethin’ good.” He trailed his tongue along the shell of Zanka’s ear, making the cleaner shiver and clamp his own hand over his mouth. Jabber growled low, sinking his teeth into the shell of his ear and yanking the hand from Zanka’s mouth to release the strangled moan. He pinned the offending hand to the wall.

“Nonna that, Zanka-kun,” Jabber purred, licking at the fresh, sensitive bite marks.

Zanka’s head spun with the haze, the embarrassment, the pain, the heat. Pleasure sparked up his spine with each movement of Jabber’s leg between his thighs. He absently pressed into it, rubbing himself against the toned thigh and Jabber’s own hard bulge. He tried desperately to bite back the moans and gasps that Jabber’s mouth dragged out of him. He strained uselessly against the hold on his wrist, though what he wanted to do with it, he didn’t know. Grab the raider? Shove him away? Press his hands under that pathetic excuse of a shirt to feel the heated skin and toned muscles underneath?

The raider’s mouth moved from his aching ear to his neck, where he nipped and sucked a trail of marks down to Zanka’s collarbone. A thought flickered briefly through Zanka’s mind that he couldn’t hide marks that high up, but it was quickly shoved to the depths as Jabber’s teeth sank into the junction of his throat and shoulder.

“Fuck!” he cried, hips thrusting down hard on Jabber’s thigh, and pressing hard into the raider’s erection, pulling a low groan from them both. The heat pooling in his stomach was familiar but far more intense than anything he’d managed himself. Whatever it was from-- the drugs, the alcohol, the addition of another person-- Zanka was riding too close to the edge he couldn’t let himself fall over yet. It couldn’t end so shamefully quick-- he didn’t want it to end.

Jabber’s hands suddenly gripped his waist, holding him still and pressing himself into Zanka with a groan. His mouth was back at Zanka’s ear, tone low and deliciously dangerous, “I ain’t stoppin’ just ‘cause ya cum from a lil’ kissin’ or ‘cause yer virgin ass gets scared.”

The hand in Jabber’s hair harshly pulled his head back. The short whine Jabber made sent another shiver up his spine, but he didn’t let that stop him from glaring. His pride was very much still intact despite the substances’ influence.

“Shut up こわくねじゃん.”

Jabber’s eyes glittered in the room’s dim light. Zanka didn’t even know when the light had been turned on but he was glad for it. The raider’s face was lightly flushed and the smirk on those perfect fucking lips made his stomach twist. He wanted to bite them-- needed to feel them pressed back against his mouth.

Thinking along the same lines, they crashed back together. Jabber’s pained yet pleased groan only added to the coppery taste of his blood on Zanka’s tongue. Jabber pulled Zanka away from the wall without breaking the messy, sharp kiss, and a few clumsy steps later, Zanka was falling, shoved harshly backward.

There was a split second where his brain switched into full panic mode. He was falling and metal glinted in the light and assistaff wasn’t in his reach and he was going to be killed--

His back hit the firm mattress and Jabber’s burning hot body was on top of him. Zanka’s hands flew up to his defense, one wrapping around the raider’s throat, the other around a bare, firm bicep. Wide, magenta eyes stared down at him. The pulse under his hand jumped and his breath stuttered. They stared for a second.

Then Zanka squeezed.

Jabber’s broken moan and fluttering eyes went straight to Zanka’s dick. The raider grinned as he sucked in shallow breaths against Zanka’s hold. His hands pulled Zanka’s legs around his hips to grind their still-clothed cocks together, resulting in both of them shuddering and moaning. Then his hands slipped under Zanka’s shirt, pressing into his abdomen and feeling along his ribs. Zanka felt the cool metal of mankira against his skin and a vague feeling of danger had him tensing under the raider.

Jabber’s smirk turned sharp and challenging. His voice came out raspy and strained, “Thought ya weren’t scared. She’ll be good as me.” The words had Zanka squeezing tighter. Jabber’s mouth fell open, his hips stuttered, and his eyes rolled back.

The sight above Zanka was one he’d never imagined in his wildest dreams. Jabber’s blissed-out face, turned up slightly to give Zanka full access to his throat, with his dreads hanging down around and brushing Zanka’s body. His lips quirked like they wanted to grin, but he was too lost in the feeling of Zanka cutting off his airflow. The eyeliner around his eyes glittered faintly in the dim overhead light alongside the gold clasps in his hair.

Suddenly Jabber’s eyes shifted down to him and he did smirk, startling Zanka slightly. At the same time, those teasing hands under his shirt found his nipples and pinched. Zanka yelped and his hands shot down to grab at Jabber’s arms. Not really wanting to pull them away, but he couldn’t help the reflexive reaction. His head pressed back into the mattress as he tried not to arch into the touch-- the fingers rolling the small buds between them a little too hard yet not hard enough. Zanka squirmed despite his efforts, gasping as Jabber giggled above him, still trying to catch his breath.

“What a sight ya are, Zanka-kun,” the roughness of his voice did nothing but add to the pleasure sparking through him. “Squirmin’ and whinin’-- look fuckin’ perfect.”

The words registered after a second and brought a quiet, pathetic whimper to Zanka’s lips. His eyes locked on the blown-out magenta staring down in awe at him. Jabber’s hands had paused at the sound. The sharp, predatory grin spread slow and spine-chilling on his face.

The next second, Jabber’s fingers had hooked under the waistband of his pants and underwear. Zanka’s mind was slowly starting to return to some semblance soberness, and he felt a wave of shame at the same moment Jabber ripped the clothes down his thighs. He raider yanked his legs up to pull them all the way off with his shoes. Hungry eyes washed over his exposed flesh as if he’d run his hands down Zanka’s body.

Before the raider actually could get his hands back on him, Zanka launched forward to grab his wrists. Much to Jabber’s annoyance if the way his lips turned down and eyes narrowed said anything about it.

“まってまってまって-! Wait!”

Zanka’s body and mouth had moved before his brain was asked why. His breaths were a little ragged as he sat forward awkwardly. He was loath to admit that the look Jabber gave him was almost more beautiful than when Zanka had choked him, and it didn’t help him sort through his problem any quicker.

“What? I told ya—”

“Ya gonna-- she’s gonna-- fuck what-- よごれっちゃって,” Zanka wasn’t sure what he wanted to say at all until the words finally fell out. Not words Jabber would know, but words that spawned from seeing mankira glint innocently on his admittedly pretty and soft hands. Hands that were no doubt about to do unspeakable things to Zanka’s body.

His eyes must have translated something as they looked at the rings on the raider’s hands. He didn’t try to pull out of Zanka’s hold, but his tone didn’t sound any happier either, “Try again. What ‘bout her?”

Zanka swallowed hard. What had he said?

“… She’s gonna get-- get dirty.”

The silence was deafening as the meaning of the words sat heavily between them. When Zanka didn’t look up, Jabber pulled his hand from Zanka’s and slid his fingers into Zanka’s hair. He yanked the cleaner’s face up suddenly, making Zanka give a small, pained grunt. His breath caught in his throat when his eyes met the narrowed, piercing pink stare waiting for him.

They weren’t angry. Weren’t furious. Weren’t even necessarily turned off. They were searching. Looking for anything that would give away the trick. Because of course it had to be a trick for Zanka to say something like that. Zanka would think so if he were in Jabber’s place.

“Ya seriously worried ‘bout her?”

Zanka blinked.

“… You ain’t?”

Jabber’s mouth opened, then closed again. His lips pressed into a hard line that Zanka did not like seeing on his pretty face.

Zanka’s head was released. Jabber sat back slightly, still watching him carefully. Zanka let himself fall back, throwing his arm over his eyes to avoid the stare. Of course he’d fuck up a one night stand. How could he not? Jabber had even clocked him as the virgin he was and wasn’t letting that stop him but now--

--now there was a ringless hand wrapping around his dick and fuck it felt so much better than his own ever had.

The choked whine that fell from his mouth was filthy even to his own ears. His back arched off the bed as the hand started pumping, grip tighter than he normally used, thumb pressing into sensitive skin. His arm was dragged away from his face and he was shrouded in the dark locs, pink eyes shining in the void.

“Didn’t think I’d let ya off the hook fer that, did ya?” His mouth was back on Zanka’s neck, sucking new bruises into unmarked skin. He pulled Zanka’s shirt up, exposing his chest. Fingers traced the skin around a nipple and teeth sank into new flesh. Pleasure burned in Zanka’s stomach from the rough strokes, the bites, the lips on his skin, the hand teasing him.

Jabber wasn’t playing with him anymore, he was leading him, pushing him toward the ledge. The raider’s fingers rubbed his nipple in slow circles and his mouth-- Zanka’s hands clutched around soft dreads as Jabber ran his tongue around the other nipple. His teeth caught it between them and pulled a horrifyingly desperate whine from Zanka. The strokes grew faster. More insistent and twisting and wrenching.

Zanka’s body tensed harshly as the pleasure peaked and spilled over the hand still moving. Still stroking him for every drop he had. Stroking him until it was almost painful before finally releasing him.

He wasn’t given any time to catch his breath. Jabber’s mouth and hand never stopped their teasing. It kept him squirming and had him trying to push the raider’s head away. He needed a second-- just a second and he’d be fine.

But then warm, slick fingers were pressing against his hole-- circling and spreading the makeshift lube.

Oh-- oh he wasn’t giving Zanka any breaks. Not a second to breathe let alone prepare for the intrusion of his finger.

“まって！ジャーバー!”

Zanka’s body jerked at the sudden, burning pressure, trying to curl in on itself but unable to with the raider pressed against him. It didn’t deter Jabber from pressing in further, sliding the digit out and back in, reaching deeper with each thrust and filling him further.

Zanka’s cries were met with teeth tugging at his now overly-sensitive chest and a hand reaching up to thread back in his hair. Jabber’s mouth was back on his, drinking down his pained moans and whimpers as he was forced open.

“Oh fuck yeah,” the raider purred against his mouth, “Say my name like that anytime, babe. Might get more than ya bargain for though~”

Zanka shivered at the use of the nickname, “よんでねえじゃ! いって- S-slow down!”

Rather than listen, a second finger pressed against him. Zanka’s hands grasped at the raider’s back. His nails dragged uselessly against the stupid fucking shirt still on his body. Zanka sank his teeth into Jabber’s lip in annoyance and retaliation, but it only served to encourage Jabber’s actions. The raider groaned and plunged his fingers in hard and purposeful. Zanka’s blunt nails finally found skin to dig angry red lines into as he cried out in a mix of pain and blinding pleasure.

It wasn’t like Zanka had never touched himself-- like he’d never tried his own fingers before. He knew he liked the feeling of being filled, but…

But this was different. Jabber’s fingers were thicker and not coated in proper lubricant. They reached an angle that Zanka never could. They pressed into him so deliciously deep and dragged so intensely and filled him so much.

Jabber had pulled back at some point, Zanka realized. Not far enough to pull himself out of Zanka’s desperately clinging hands, but enough that they weren’t kissing. Enough that he could watch Zanka writhe and gasp beneath him as he pumped his beautiful and for too talented fingers inside of him. It took a lot of effort for Zanka to focus enough to see the triumphant smirk on that pretty face. That damned, perfect face he would definitely punch sometime later.

“This ‘bout all the patience I got fer ya, Zanka-kun,” the raider cooed with a far darker tone than Zanka liked. He shivered as the fingers abruptly pulled out fully, leaving him clenching around nothing and feeling awfully empty.

Jabber leaned back fully now, pulling himself out of Zanka’s reach and reaching into a back pocket. The raider laughed as Zanka’s face turned into a scowl at the small packet he pulled out, “What a look! Wasn’t really plannin’ on usin’ ‘em tonight but ya never know~” He brought the packet up to his mouth and used the other hand to slide down his obscenely short shorts. Zanka’s eyes struggled to find a place to focus as Jabber made a show of both actions-- his teeth slowly tore the packet open while his hand took it’s time pulling out his dick.

Zanka’s gaze quickly settled on the thick, leaking cock that was revealed. The raider stroked himself a few times under Zanka’s wide eyes. Relishing in the flashes of desire and uncertainty that passed over his flushed face. At the way his hands clenched the sheets beneath him. The way his legs twitched and looked ready to close or kick him away.

Jabber quickly slipped the condom over himself, finally truly losing his patience. Zanka gave a short gasp as the raider pulled up his leg and settled it against his shoulder. His teeth sank into Zanka’s calf as he pressed himself against Zanka-- into Zanka-- not teasing or waiting for him to adjust to the intrusion.

Zanka let out a garbled cry as Jabber forced his way in. Carved himself into the soft, hot walls of Zanka’s ass. Tears pricked Zanka’s eyes. His hands grabbed at the raider, fingers wrapping around an arm and digging nails into his skin. The other wrapped around his throat again, serving to settle the flash of anger at the raider’s impatience. Jabber’s push inside faltered with a low moan at the fingers cutting off his air.

“ちょ- ちょっと-- fuck, Jabber, まってわ please,” Zanka managed to force out with what little air he could bring into his lungs. He was so full. So full and trembling and feeling every inch that had bullied its way inside of him, stretching him far too suddenly.

The sharp, drunk grin that spread on the raider’s face told Zanka he’d fucked up before the raspy words left his mouth, “Oh? I heard a please.”

Jabber leaned closer, further into Zanka’s grasp. His hands wrapped around Zanka’s waist and he gave one hard thrust forward.

No sound escaped from Zanka’s mouth despite the sharp arch of his back. His hands were sticky and warm and the raider was shaking with choked laughter under his tightened grip. Jabber’s hips pressed in slow, maddening circles. His hands quickly found new places-- rubbing his nipple and running sharp nails up his arm.

The knock at the door froze them both in place.

“Zanka?” Enjin. “You there? You good?”

The voice crashed through Zanka’s haze like a trash beast suddenly blasting through the ground beneath him. Jabber’s deranged grin and rolled back eyes did not help Zanka think of an appropriate response. He wasn’t even sure he could give a convincing response.

But he had to. He had to or Enjin would bust down that fucking door and the rest of his team would be close behind.

“I- I’m-- yeah,” Zanka stuttered out, shivering as Jabber started a rhythm of small, slow thrusts. Zanka squeezed his eyes shut, hoping it would help him concentrate but only making the drag that much more intense. “I’m good!” he shouted, only sounding slightly strained and breathless. There was a brief pause where Zanka thought he was going to crumble apart into pieces under the hands teasing him, the dick pressing into him, rubbing just shy of where Zanka itched--

“Aight. Just uh-- let us know if ya need anythin’. Sorry if I woke ya up!” Another short pause and the sound of retreating footsteps was the most beautiful sound Zanka’d ever heard.

The sudden, sharp, deep thrust that followed had him scrambling for a pillow to smother the sound of his cry. Jabber pried the pillow away, earning him a disbelieving glare from Zanka that quickly withered into a whimper at the clouded, heavy-lidded eyes that fell on him. Jabber’s chest heaved as he worked to replace stolen air. When he leaned down, enshrouding them in a curtain of dark locs, Zanka was sure he was going to be devoured.

A ringed hand covered his mouth and held tight. The sharp, predatory smile was back and had Zanka’s heart beating in his ears. He almost missed the raider’s next words, “Lemme return the favor, Zan-ka-kun.” The purr of his name only added to the fire burning in his veins and twisting in his stomach.

Jabber’s free hand slipped under Zanka’s knee and pulled it up, spreading him open more. Giving Jabber the opportunity to press deeper and move more freely.

The freedom to set a merciless pace.

Hard, fast, and with a new angle that made him hit that sensitive bundle of nerves inside Zanka with every thrust.

Tears slid down Zanka’s face. He squirmed and clawed at the raider’s back from the overwhelming pleasure spiking through his spine and burning in his core. Jabber’s tongue swiped through some of the salty tracks on his face before his mouth was sucking and biting more bruises into his neck in his own attempt to muffle his broken moans. Zanka swore he heard his name more than once, and it only served to add to the building tension in his body.

Jabber shifted slightly on one particularly hard thrust, making Zanka jerk violently enough he broke free of Jabber’s hold on his mouth. The high, piercing whine that filled their ears had Jabber giggling maniacally and repeating the action as he tried to cover Zanka’s mouth again. In a moment of clarity and need for justice, Zanka’s teeth sank into the junction of his thumb. The warm, salty, coppery taste of blood instantly spilled onto his tongue, but he couldn’t let go now from how the action spurred the raider on.

Zanka’s second orgasm hit him without warning-- blinding and toe-curling and seemingly never-ending. Not with how Jabber continued to fuck him through it, fuck him to the brink of consciousness before the raider’s hips finally stuttered. Before his teeth sank into Zanka’s shoulder with equal force to his own bite.

It felt like hours before Zanka was able to breathe again, let alone when he was able to crack open his horribly heavy eyes. His vision was bleary and it was nearly impossible to focus, but he caught the bright, satisfied pink eyes that stared down at him. The infuriatingly beautiful smirk that accompanied them. Far away, but still intense enough to be shiver-inducing, he felt the raider pull out of him, leaving him strangely, achingly empty.

His eyelids fluttered as he willed them to stay open, only to feel a soft hand press over them, forcing them closed. Through the exhaustion and all-consuming darkness finally starting to devour his mind, Zanka heard the raider’s rough, quiet voice, “Ya gonna have a massive hangover, babe. I’ll see ya next time~”

Zanka’s head was splitting. As much if not more than his lower half.

He groaned, and tried to roll onto his side, only to find his body heavy and uncooperative and he ended up with his face flat in the pillow. His back and hips were so sore and he felt like he’d been rammed up the ass with a pipe. How did drinking at the club make him so…

He jolted up, scrambling for the edge of the bed despite his body’s screams of protest. Miraculously, the trash can was there, right at the side of the bed, to catch the rancid, acrid remains of whatever was in his stomach.

Another groan worked its way up his throat. He hung off the edge of the bed for a minute, waiting. When nothing more seemed about to come up, he dragged himself up onto his elbows, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Not the best option, but the only one.

The tiniest bit of light was filtering in through the not-quite closed curtains, letting Zanka see the glass on the nightstand. And the note.

He snatched the piece of paper in an instant, feeling his heart jump to his throat. No one could ever see what it was even if they didn’t recognize the writing. Not even Zanka would have if he didn’t know. But somehow the messy scrawl on the notepad was absurdly fitting.

Mornin’ Mr. Pillow Princess!

Zanka was going to be sick again.

Enjoy the crossfade hangover while it lasts! Lookin’ forward to our next meetin :)

PS Took the liberty of exchangin blood on our chokers. Chat soon<3

Zanka ripped the paper up into tiny pieces with a scowl and threw them into the trash where they belonged. Was he going to have to get a new choker? How fucked up had he gotten last night on just some damn alcohol to get dragged around by Jabber like that??

He curled back up, pressing his face into the pillow in the hopes it might smother him. At least he was still alive, for all the good that was doing him now. And he realized, as he made mental note of everything currently wrong with his body, surprisingly not covered in nastiness from their encounter. He sure as hell hadn’t cleaned himself up, which meant the raider must have before he’d left. And he’d moved the trash can. And gotten him a glass of water-- one that Zanka definitely wasn’t going to trust to be just water.

For as pissed off as he felt, it pissed him off even more that he couldn’t bring himself to say he hated any of what happened. He was definitely going to get back at that stupid fucking devastatingly addictive raider if it was the last thing he did.