Archive of Our Own

Similar to the chokers, no one quite understood how phones worked. 

Zanka's theory was a giver, since the devices never needed to be charged and connected to what they called the 'net' as long as you were above the ground, but who knew if that was true?

He didn't quite care about the details as he closed and locked the door behind him, taking his time to close his window and draw his curtains as well.

The thing was, the only reason Zanka even got a phone was because Riyo had somehow hooked everyone on an app and was complaining he couldn't tag Zanka when she uploaded group photos and decided to gift him one. Hell, she gave it to him with his account already set up and befriended every single cleaner that also had one.

Zanka rarely bothered to spend time on the device; none of the sites, games, or functions interested him, but even he could admit mindlessly strolling through his feed while driving back to base had a mind-numbing effect he enjoyed.

That's how he had found Jabber's account.

At least, he had assumed it was Jabber.

Who else would fucking name their account 'PoisonClaws' unless they were an edgy preteen?

With Rudo sitting next to him and Riyo lounging on the back, the cleaner hadn't had a chance to actually check. The account was marked as NSFW, too, so he had to click on it to actually see the profile picture and pray that the supposed raider wasn't uploading pictures of mutilated corpses or his slaughtered enemies like a trophy folder.

Anticipation rising, Zanka dropped his beloved lovely asisstaff on the bed, settled on the mattress, and clicked on the profile after dismissing the NSFW warning.

The picture was... Not what he expected.

The angle was high and tilted just right to get the entire body. Surprisingly, he was in his raider uniform with his sash and his purple lantern nowhere to be seen. His empty hand, the one that wasn't holding up the camera, was caressing his breast.

Mankira. In all her polished, well-loved glory. Looking right at home, adorning Jabber's painted nails.

Definitely him.

His top was hooked on his wrist, his bracelets hanging low on his forearm, giving the camera a perfect view of the muscular plains of his abdomen as his nipple piercings peeked in between his splayed fingers. Muscular but lean, chronically underfed, most likely. There was little to no fat over his sculpted abs, his stomach tiptoeing over the thin line of being flat or concave.

Zanka swallowed dryly and clicked 'expand picture' to see the whole thing, and he nearly dropped his phone at the sight.

Jabber was leaning his front against a marble countertop. His baggy pants were pulled down too, hanging just under his sharp hip bones and giving the camera a small sliver of his black boxer briefs. The fact that he hadn't bothered to pull them down felt more filthy than him just being naked as Zanka stared at his erect cock resting on the marble. Blinking twice before he realized he wasn't just hallucinating.

Zanka slammed the phone down on his bed as soon as his brain caught up, face heating up at the thought of the raider locking himself in whatever kitchen they had at their base. His imagination running wild with the idea of Jabber leaning his hip against the counter and breathing heavily as he jerked himself off to full girth so he would look good for the photo.

...or maybe he took it right after he came back to base following a fight, while adrenaline and lust still ran high in his system. Maybe, just maybe, Zanka was the one who fought him a mere hour before he decided to post this. 

Fuck.

What the fuck!?

Who would make a fucking nude their profile picture!?

Why the fuck wasn't Zanka marching right up to Enjin to expose the raider!?

Why the fuck wasn't he finding a way to use this as blackmail to make Jabber expose Zodyl's plans??

Wait- No.

Zanka buried his hands in his palms as he weighed his options.

Despite his... Complicated feelings about the raider, he didn't want to just expose him. If Jabber wanted to post nudes on the net, he very well could. Zanka wasn't some asshole who would throw it at his face to shame him. Zanka didn't want to be some asshole who threw it at his face to shame him. It was just a harmless... hobby? Did this count as a hobby?

Whatever, it was just some photos. Maybe Jabber just wanted to show off, maybe he was just fishing for compliments, maybe he just enjoyed taking pictures he looked frankly fantastic in. It didn't matter to Zanka.

He slid his hands down his face and leaned his elbows on his knees.

Besides not wanting to ruin something harmless for the raider, it would be awkward as fuck to show this to the rest of the cleaners anyway. It didn't count as him searching for reasons to avoid exposing Jabber if he actually didn't want to deal with the shame of admitting to click on an NSFW account.

...he could just go through the photos to make sure there was nothing relevant to the raiders, right? Just to make sure he wasn't making the wrong decision.

Shamefully, he reached over and draped the sheets over lovely asisstaff's form. An apology dancing on his lips and a heat rising between his legs as he settled back down on the bed and picked up his phone again.

The angle was tricky, and there was nothing else on the counter that Zanka could use to compare, but Jabber was definitely large. On the thinner side, but long. Proportionate to the rest of his body.

Zanka wondered if it would be heavy.

And nearly threw the phone against the wall at the wave of shame and arousal washing over him.

He should have, really.

He should have closed the phone, deleted that damn app, and forgotten he ever owned the electronic. The image of Jabber rutting against the counter with his body exposed like that would fade eventually, and Zanka would write it off as a lapse in judgment he never talked about again. 

Ever.

That's what a stronger man would do.

But Zanka was just a mediocrity. So, instead, he took a deep, steadying breath and clicked on the profile.

There was no description, not even an assortment of emojis, and no text posts. Only rows and rows and rows of pictures, despite the fact that the profile was barely a few months old.

January 11th.

Wasn't that his 19th birthday?

The profile was opened on the 11th of the month, but he had started posting on the 12th. Zanka knew, because he feverishly scrolled down until he was at the very bottom, and the first posts always had the date visible. Shamefully refusing to miss even a single post and averting his eyes as he scrolled down to not accidentally get a peek and get spoiled.

Scum, scum, scum. What would the others think? What would his siblings think? What would Enjin think?

What would Jabber think?

Sure, he had uploaded the pictures himself, but surely, that was for internet strangers and not someone he clashed with several times. Would he be disgusted with him? Would he look at him with a curled lip and wrinkled nose and tell him how much of a gross creep he was for stalking his photos and then daring to think he still deserved to fight him?

...would he grin and ask which was his favorite?

Zanka's cock throbbed where it was trapped under his clothes, and the cleaner rolled over on his stomach to press his hard on against the bed, trying to relieve the pressure.

His profile picture was one picture, of course, but most of Jabber's posts came in trios.

With different clothes, too.

The first one that caught his eye was a painfully casual shot of him lying in his bed on his back, but to the cleaner who had only seen Jabber in his uniform, it felt sweeter than lingerie.

His face was out of the frame again, but this time his locks were visible where they spilled around his head like a dark halo. A sharp contrast against his surprisingly pristine white sheets. Both of his arms were stretched up, his bracelets brushing against his elbows with how low they hung.

He was wearing a white wife-beater and black sweatpants. Just something simple he used to test out the waters, probably. Nothing he posted was really explicit yet, even if he shied away from posting his face, the profile picture was most likely a recent addition, even if this site didn't show when it was last updated.

Still, Zanka clicked on it to enlarge the picture.

Jabber's top was too thick and dry to be sheer and give him a peek of the well-trained muscles it was concealing underneath, but it was just thin enough that he could see the mouth-watering imprint each nipple piercing made on the fabric.

Zanka idly wondered if he had changed them, or if they were already the golden color he saw in the profile picture.

His gaze slid lower. The wife-beater was bunched up just a tad, just enough to flash a sliver of tan skin between it and the sweats. The sight was somehow more scandalous in Zanka's lust-riddled mind than him having his top pulled up to his neck. No underwear, either. Zanka had to zoom in, but he could just make out the imprint of his dick against his propped-up leg. Hidden under the loose fabric, but not well enough that you missed it if you knew what you were looking for.

Involuntarily, Zanka rolled his hips against the mattress and suppressed a groan as his member trembled to be let free.

After that risque picture and the ample amount of horny but appreciative comments he got under it, Jabber's posts started to get braver.

Pictures of him with his top bunched up to show off his sculpted abs, a shot that showed his face up close just under his nose as he scorched the end of his glisteningly wet tongue with a lighter, his top entirely off and his hair pulled over his shoulder to give the camera a clear view of the muscular planes of his back, some of him in basketball shorts pulled up to show the thickness of his thighs and some mirror selfies with his top bunched up to expose his middle with his back turned to the camera. He seemed to especially favor leaving his bottoms alone but pulling the top just enough that he left his midriff bare with the slightest hint of under boob. The sight of his sinfully trim waist left Zanka hot under the collar in every single pose.

The actual fun started after that.

Hidden under an NSFW warning Zanka quickly took care of in the settings, was the most risque picture yet.

If you didn't count the profile pic, which Zanka knew for a fact was barely two days old because he also figured out how to switch on the dates while rushing through the settings.

The rest of Jabber's room was obscured by the bright light beaming on his body and the trim to hide his face, but it was pretty easy to figure out he owned a standing mirror. Every other mirror selfie had a blank wall behind it so far, but now, it stood at the end of Jabber's bed.

Jabber, who was wearing nothing but tight black boxers that left nothing to the imagination, compression socks that ended mid-thigh with his toes and heel exposed, black fingerless gloves, which Zanka also suspected were compression gloves, and a sweater that was 2 sizes too big.

God, Zanka could already hear the comments that flip-flopped between salivating over him and wishing him a fast recovery.

The first one had him leaning back on one hand, his sweater falling just over his tight waist and leaving everything below bare. He had his legs open, one folded and resting on its side, and one propped up to give them a fantastic view of his bulge straining against the fabric of the 1 size too small boxers.

Zanka wished he didn't have his hair tied up and out of the way, wanting to see his locks spilling over his shoulders...

On the second one, he was leaning forward on his knees with his legs making a 'W' shape on the mattress. He had his free palm planted between his thighs, but his stance was off just enough to offer them a sneaky angle of his hard-on. With the way he was leaning forward, Zanka had a great view of his almost delicate-looking collar bones and the valley of his muscular, pierced chest just behind the dark shrouds of his sweater.

Zanka's dick was throbbing by the time he opened the last one, because he didn't know if somebody else was taking the picture or Jabber was using some magic fuckery for that shot, but the raider was on his stomach, and the angle was low.

Against the blurry background, he could barely make out Jabber resting his head on his crossed arms with his hair pulled up into a high ponytail. The angle was low, like someone had placed the camera on his calves and raised it just enough to get his entire body.

Jabber had his legs crossed at the ankle, giving his body a lewd curve to it as he arched his bare back. And bare it was because Jabber had pulled his sweater up up up and left them staring at the smooth curves of his back and his visible spine with his ribcage peeking under the hoodie.

Underfed for sure. Zanka couldn't help but wonder if the raider skipped meals or simply forgot to eat, because he knew for a fact the raider was more than swift enough to steal if he needed to.

But the real kicker wasn't his shapely thighs spilling over the thigh-high compression socks nor the surprisingly rare sight of his arched back. No. The one feature he had in the limelight was his peach-shaped ass under the snug underwear that left nothing to the imagination. Jabber was underfed for sure, but whatever small amount of fat he had in his body accumulated in his thighs and rear, with more than enough muscle to keep them firm and shapely.

Jabber had a surprising amount of pictures uploaded, but none of them, absolutely none of them, had highlighted his ass like that until now.

Zanka would tell you that you were disgusting if you asked him, 'tits or ass?', but still, the cleaner found himself agreeing with the comments lamenting about the fact that Jabber was hiding this under baggy pants for so long.

Zanka, finally, allowed his hand to travel down and give his neglected member a firm squeeze. Hissing as he tried to do the absolute bare minimum to ease the heat gathering between his legs.

The next few pics more or less followed the same formula, with him showing off both front and back and getting a shit ton of comments for it. Seriously, the number was near bizarre. Zanka didn't even think this site had this many users until now.

The next picture that caught his eyes was against his will, because Zanka's brain had all but short-circuited at the sight of delicate black lace resting against Jabber's tan skin. He clicked and zoomed in on the picture, right at the spot the delicate lace ended, and his plush thighs spilled over. Willing his beating heart to slow down as he rolled on his back and pulled a pillow under his neck before going back to the picture.

Jabber's posture was almost unsure in this one, not shy, but uncertain.

Zanka wondered if this was the first time he had ever worn something like that. Did he buy it especially for a picture, or did he stumble upon it and decide to try something new? Did he have someone in mind? Did he somehow learn that the dirty magazines hidden under Zanka's mattress all contained lingerie one way or another?

The cleaner winched in self-disgust and sighed as he rubbed his forearm against his eyes to clear his mind. He was starting to sound like a disgusting pervert with a parasocial relationship, for fucks sake!

... Not that it stopped him from returning the pic to its full size to admire it in its full.

Jabber was simply standing in front of the mirror, his free hand resting on his stomach, right over where the garter belt peeked through the opening of his nearly unzipped hoodie. The metal mechanism held on for dear life at the very tip as the raider used it to stylishly give himself a sinfully low cleavage. Zanka didn't even feel disappointed at the fact that he couldn't see his nipple piercings as his own hand traced up and down his wiry thigh to try and relieve some of the pent-up tension in his underwear. After all, who could feel disappointed when his long, bare legs looked so delicious under those delicate black stockings that rose up to his mid-thigh? If Zanka were there, he would kiss his heated skin through the lace. Snap the string that held the stocking up against his thighs. Unzip his hoodie fully to see if his underwear matched the lingerie.

He should feel like the scum of the earth.

Instead, Zanka's free hand fumbled to tug off his uniform pants as he went to the next picture.

The downright swooning comments he got under his lacey pictures apparently encouraged the raider enough for him to jump straight to costumes.

A nurse costume, in fact. Something that was definitely, certainly, against the regulations of every single medical establishment on the ground. Hell, maybe even up on the sphere. He could only guess, as he wasn't about to ask Rudo about it.

Seriously, where did he even find that massive syringe prop?? Zanka couldn't quite tell for sure from the pictures, but there was definitely clear, jelly-esque liquid inside the barrel.

Zanka didn't have the will left to stop his hand from drifting lower and gripping himself.

The entire outfit was basically a white mini dress with red trimmings that wasn't even long enough to cover his ass, and Zanka was pretty sure having a red cross on your clothes was against the Geneva Convention, but he couldn't focus on that while zoomed in on the studded leather straps wrapped around both his thighs. Squishing the meat of his plush upper thighs and making it spill over the edges in the most tantalizing manner that even dirty magazines couldn't capture.

Seriously, for a quote on quote 'amateur' account, the production value on the photos was outrageous.

His clothes even had a small heart-shaped zipper and Zanka couldn't figure out why this sent an another wave of heat to his already overheated member.

And, fuck, Jabber had so many pics of himself in that damn mini dress.

The first one was just to show off the entire outfit. He had his bare, leather-strapped leg hooked over the massive prop as he leaned against it. His back arched and body twisted to highlight every single curve his lean and toned body possessed, while the long sash wrapped tight against his midriff highlighted the tightness of his sinfully trim waist, and hung behind him the exact way his usual purple sash did in his raider uniform.

The accompanying picture had the propt in the background as Jabber gave his back to the mirror. From there, he could see that the back possessed a deep cleavage that gave him a nice view of his too-visible spine and shoulder blades. Where their wings used to be, he idly remembered a poem he once read said. The dress really was too short, short enough that it ended right under his ass. Short enough that his preferred boxers just wouldn't cut it. Short enough that maybe, just maybe, Zanka could finally see the raider in lace panties.

Next, Jabber was on the bed with the prop lying on the sheets, and the raider straddling it as he leaned down on his hands. The costume was tighter than Zanka had thought, and he was pleasantly surprised to see the imprint of his pierced nipples against the thin fabric stretched over his chest. The camera was angled just right so that they got a close-up of the thigh strap straining against the muscle, but couldn't see up his skirt.

His favorite was also a low-angle shot.

In this one, Jabber was leaning his back against the counter as one of his hands held onto the edge, highlighting the muscles of his forearm and bicep. It cut off before it showed his face again, but the way the muscles of his neck strained under his skin, Zanka could tell his gaze was angled towards the camera. His back was arched again, the thin material straining against his chest and making his nipple piercings even more noticeable under it. His legs were spread, and the sight of his sensitive inner thighs made the cleaner squirm. They couldn't even see up his skirt again, it was shadowed by a well-angled light source, but the mystery and the fact that it left whatever was under there to imagination riled the cleaner up more than he liked to admit.

Zanka let go of his dick to quickly take a screenshot as he silently scolded himself for not thinking about this before.

In fact, he should probably take a screenshot of every post.

He couldn't quite think of a rational reason 'why' at the moment, but he could think about it after he was done. Surely, there was one. He just needed to secure the images before he brainstormed over them.

Just one post left, anyway.

With his free hand slowly stroking his dick and smearing the beading precum over the length, Zanka scrolled up.

And choked on his own breath at the sight.

Because this time, Jabber wasn't scantily clad, nor hiding lingerie under oversized hoodies, nor wearing suggestive costumes.

No.

Instead, in the post he uploaded just three days ago, he was wearing a uniform.

A cleaner's uniform.

Not a basic, uninspired copy made by some equally uninspired tailor, either.

He was wearing an almost exact replica of Zanka's uniform.

His.

No fucking wonder they got several calls, especially requesting a man with long locks to clean up trash beasts. Semiu damn near lost her mind explaining to clients over and over again that no, no one with tan skin, long locks, and a lean build worked there, and no, she couldn't send him if they paid extra cuz that man didn't fucking exist.

No fucking wonder. Since the profile picture was new, they probably assumed they were both costumes and stopped spamming their calls. Especially without that damn purple lantern and his hip sash.

Every exhale of Zanka’s felt like absolute fire in his lungs, his heart beating like a racing rabbit as he clicked on the collection, because it was a collection. There wasn't even a number on the top right corner. This had to be definitely the longest post Jabber made with the most pictures, and Zanka's dick was twitching in his hand as he started to slowly look through them one by one. Taking in the sight fully as his hands trembled.

In the first one, Jabber was sitting on the edge of the bed with his legs spread and leaning back on his hands in a casual manner. The puffed pants were an exact match, but instead of the leg pouches, Jabber was wearing the exact same studded leg straps he wore with the nurse costume instead. His leg looked fuller under the loose material, highlighted by the leg straps showing off the curve of his thighs. The sash was the exact same, too, but a tad tighter. The trimness of his waist was more obvious than Zanka's as the long part waved its way between Jabber's legs and spilled down the sheets like a waterfall. The top didn't have the brooch he had over his heart, but it was the same from the broad shoulders to the kimono-esque sleeves.

Zanka gave a firm squeeze to the base of his member, hands trembling as he swiped to the next one.

Jabber was on his side, instead. The long sash had all but flopped against the mattress, giving the camera the full view of his shapely legs. With the gravity flattening the loose material against his flesh, it was much easier to see the curve of Jabber's hips and plush thighs.

It looked so, so fucking right on him. Zanka could almost imagine Jabber at the edge of his bed instead, parading around with Zanka's clothes as he lay naked in bed, cackling when he complained that he had a mission to go to and needed his uniform back. Eyes lidded and voice sultry as he goaded Zanka to come here and strip him himself.

He was so hard it hurt.

The next shot was even better. Jabber had opened the zipper of his top, flexing to make the muscles of his chest pop as his nipple piercings caught the light. He had his long, bony fingers tracing the deep V line leading to his dick. His hand was more delicate than Zanka's own, his palms less calloused. Mankira didn't bruise and toughen his hands like lovely asisstaff tended to do to Zanka. She looked gorgeous, adorning the said thin fingers, fitted well over the single ring that held the replica of Zanka's undershirt in place.

The cleaner's breath hitched as he picked up pace.

And nearly lost the said breath when he opened the next post.

Jabber was on his back this time. The top was still open, and its sides spilled against the sheets. The sash was gone along with the leg straps, and the raider had pulled the puffy bottoms down to his mid-thighs. Zanka's wide eyes traveled down his abs to the curve of his hips to the sharp hip bones to the V-shaped muscles before it landed on his flushed member standing proud in the middle of the picture.

Zanka had already seen it in the profile picture, something he assumed was some sort of an easter egg to anyone who happened to click on it, but it was so, so different to see it when he was donning his clothes. The rush of white-hot lust washing over Zanka was entirely different when Jabber was in the blues and whites of the cleaners rather than the purples of the raiders.

His chest trembled with uneven breaths as the movement of his hand grew jerky, the knot in his gut tightening as he scrolled to the next one.

A video.

His hand stopped in shock as Zanka closed his slack jaw with a click of teeth.

No fucking wonder it didn't show the number in the upper right corner. It never did when a video was in the mix.

The camera slowly panned down his bare chest, the top still open, before it stopped at the same height as Jabber's hip, showing his erection from the side as his free hand came up to wrap around it.

Mankira and Zanka's own undershirt wrapped around the same near-delicate tan hand looked divine.

Zanka involuntarily mimicked the action, taking his own member in his hand once again.

Jabber's hand slowly, but tightly, traveled up his entire length, coaxing a pearly drop of precum out. His dick visibly jolted, and his abs quivered as he swiped his thumb over the head.

With the same torturously slow pace, he wandered back down to the base, smearing it all down his length. Then, and only then, he started to pick up speed. Mankira caught the light every time his slim fingers traveled up, and his hips bucked into his fist every time it slammed down to the base. Zanka followed the exact same motions on the other end of the screen, jaw locked and teeth gritted to muffle any sound he could possibly make.

Soon, Jabber's pace started to falter. Losing the pornstar-esque rhythm as his hips stuttered and started to buck out of sync with his fist. The bare parts of his thighs twitching involuntarily as he chased his peak, swiping his thumb over the head every single time as more and more pre leaked down his length.

And, god, his breathing had grown heavy enough to be caught by the microphone. Every single shaky inhale and near-groaning exhale made Zanka's hands tremble.

Suddenly, he slammed down his fist and bucked hard against it. The moan he didn't manage to muffle sending shivers down Zanka's spine as white strands of cum covered his hand. The screen shook uncontrollably as his whole body spasmed with the strength of his orgasm.

Then the video cut. Leaving Zanka panting as he continued to furiously jerk himself off, free hand barely managing to switch to the last one. It wasn't a pic, nor a video. This time, it was a looping GIF of Jabber collapsed against his elbows. Chest heaving as his nipple piercings caught the light at the action. He had cum splattered against his bare chest, decorating his trembling abs as he caught his breath. He had pulled the puffy bottoms back on place, but he hadn't bothered to clean the cum covering his thighs.

Zanka came so hard at the sight that he had to bury his face in his pillow to muffle the groan that ripped itself from his throat. His entire body shaking as fireworks exploded behind his eyelids.

When it was all said and done, the cleaner lay boneless on the mattress as he slowly but surely caught his breath. Waiting for the post-nut clarity to hit and regret to wreck through his nervous system.

It never came.

So instead, he wiped his hand against his ruined sheets and picked the device back up. Zanka clicked on the follow button and then switched off the notifications. He'd most likely check it daily, anyway. For good measure, he liked the last post and then scrolled down the comments to also like any that asked for more posts like these as he pushed away the rising jealousy. Who cared if Jabber also left a like on the comments? It was Zanka's uniform he wore. He had also archived the post, but just for good measure, he downloaded the entire thing, video and the gif included.

Who knew if Jabber would suddenly decide to wipe the entire thing off the net?

He really should take a shower. He'd have to change his sheets in the middle of the night to make sure no one caught him, too, so he had a good few hours of avoiding everyone and making sure no one came into his room...

A message appeared on the top just as Zanka was downloading nonsense on the internet to bury Jabber's video, and he clicked on it, assuming it was merely a spam account he'd need to block.

PoisonClaws.

'Zanka, bby, u know that EVERYONE can see which accounts you follow, right?'

Zanka's blood went cold in his veins.

'U also know I can see who archived my posts?'

Zanka swiped away the offending message and immediately unfollowed him. Taking back his likes and diving into the comments to take back every single one he gave them as well.

'U liked the uniform~?'

At that, Zanka hesitated.

... Well.

The cleaner checked to make sure his likes were private, and then re-liked his last post. Then, just for good measure, he went down to like the nurse costume and the lingerie as well. Jabber answered with an assortment of laughing emojis just as he liked the post with the compression socks, and a flush of shame washed over him.

'Maaaaaaan who knew u were so shy?'

Zanka unliked one of the posts out of spite.

'Chill chill it's cute'

Fuck, he really wished that hadn't sent a wave of warmth to his chest.

Then, the messages just stopped. The cleaner waited well over 5 minutes for Jabber to say something before biting the bullet and writing to him instead.

-Are you still there?

The answer took a few minutes, but when it came, it came with a picture.

A picture of the raider back in the imitation of Zanka's clothes.

Jabber hadn't taken the time to drag whatever fancy light source he had to the bathroom as he posed in front of the mirror, giving Zanka a rare glimpse of where he lived.

Not that he could see anything other than a few products on the sink and the tiles behind him. The shot was angled both for flair and to obstruct the camera's view of the rest of the room.

Jabber had one of his hands resting on the corner of the sink as he leaned his weight onto the limb. Zanka's tight undershirt really looked drop-dead gorgeous on him as it framed his bony wrists, such a delicate sight for someone with such horrifiying amount of strength. This time, he was wearing the entire thing properly with no stains left over from his last post.

And this time, he was grinning to the camera. His face wasn't cut out like the rest of the pictures Zanka had seen. He had noticed that Jabber had long lashes, but he never had the time to appreciate the fullness of them as they framed his sharp eyes. Not to mention his thin but sharply shaped lips and the slit on his eyebrow... His locks spilling down the broad shoulders of Zanka's uniform was all he needed for his dick to twitch back to life.

'Yep. U?'

Zanka hesitated, eyeing the 'send picture' option on the lower right corner as he glanced at the ruined sheets and the cum staining his uniform.

... Who would even know?

His shot wasn't nearly as professional nor mouth-watering as anything the raider posted, but Zanka took his time to open the lights and lie on his side as Jabber did in the second picture. He couldn't get the cum covered sheets, his body, and his face at the same time, so he took a shaky picture that contained his body pressed up against the sheets and sent it.

Fuck. You could still see him blush, and he hadn't even thought about the fact that Jabber could definitely make out the outline of his hardening cock. Still, he sent it before he could think too much about it.

-Yes. I watched your post.

Jabber started to write something, then the bubble disappeared. Then, he started up again, but after a few seconds, it disappeared again. Then, the system warned him that the raider had taken a screenshot of their chat before the anticipated answer finally came.

'U write like an old man'

Zanka's fingers shot to the keyboard to defend himself, but Jabber was faster.

'One sec imma get u something nicw'

Zanka had indulged himself far, far too much for his own good. Yet, no amount of self-control he built over the years managed to stop him from staring at the raider's last message, eagerly waiting for something, anything. Like a puppy overly eager to please after it was told to wait.

And he was rewarded as Jabber sent him a video. Longer than the one he had posted.

And. Just. For. Him.

Zanka downloaded it before he even opened it, and with an apology in Lovely Asisstaff's direction, he tugged at his already ruined pants.

'I wanna watch u watch it'
'U got an extra camera?'

Zanka didn't.

Instead, he picked up a pair of earphones and clicked on the video call option.

And tried not to flush as Jabber immediately picked it up.

And if the sight of his fuchsia eyes staring at him through sultry, long lashes sent another wave of heat to his guts, he didn't mention it.