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Zanka’s eyes blurred with the lights of a flashing battle a few feet away. He had been brushed off as a threat, pinned beneath a crumpled pile of rubble. His body had written out the feeling in his lower half. His upper half was struggling to keep a hold of his Lovely Assistaff. He had to help. Enjin was barely holding his own against the trash beast, pushed against the far wall. He needed to get up. The grind of metal filled the air, grating against the throbbing pain in his head. The Umbreaker spun to a stop. The beast staggered back. It didn’t fall, nor did it crumble to dust. Enjin’s scowl deepened. He tapped the tip against the ground, gears visibly turning in his mind.
“Do you think this is like the beast Riyo came across? The one with the vital instrument in it?”
The only answer that Zanka could offer was a strained groan.
“Gotta find the core then,” Enjin growled. “And then get the hell out of here.”
Yellow flames spiraled up the umbrella once more. Enjin darted forward, drilling a hole through the side of the trash beast. An arc of debris bounced off the ceiling of the room they were in. Zanka barely threw his arm over his eyes in time. Bits of trash and mud splattered onto his body, adding to his discomfort. He could deal with being injured. He could not deal with being buried under more trash, so close to his face. His head hurt. He wanted to go home. More metal against metal. Either Enjin wasn’t trying, or they needed to start worrying about these new monsters. Then, silence. The soft sounds of dust dispersing to the ground. Enjin’s panting in the still air. Zanka’s own heartbeat.
“Awesome, okay, that was fun. You can relax now, kid. Gotta figure out a way to get this off of you.”
“Just-”
“Leave? You must think I’m stupid.”
Zanka snorted.
“Now, if this hurts you can’t blame me.”
“Can too.”
“Sure, the guy who got himself stuck under the world’s most dodgeable ceiling collapse is going to get mad at me for freeing him,” Enjin snarked.
Zanka hissed out a reply, unheard through the dust. He watched the older man brace his shoulder against the crumbling stone. The first push shot a searing pain through his legs, the Lovely Assistaff falling from his hand. The second wrenched a scream from his throat. If the Supporters hadn’t found them yet, they will soon. Zanka’s voice echoes for a few more seconds. Enjin had paused, staring down at the younger man with a hollow expression. The third didn’t give Zanka much room to think. He fell limp.
The room Zanka woke to was dark, but not the darkness of the building they had fought in. More a gentle one, broken by the stars outside and the light under the door creeping through. Familiar soft covers of an infirmary bed cradled what broken parts of his body he could feel. Eishia must not have come by yet. Zanka let his head drop against the rail. He was tired. Tired enough that he didn’t feel like battling the wave of disappointment curdling in his head.
Shit. He was ridiculous. He dropped his guard. That beast snuck up on him. Got him straight in the back. How pathetic. How utterly fucking pathetic of himself. He had to be saved by Enjin, again. He had proven himself capable time and time again, yet kept making the stupidest of mistakes. A light flashed through the glass of the window. Zanka dropped his head to stare. A few chunks of trash fell from the sky. If he were a bit more delusional, he could picture shooting stars streaking across the horizon. Not the bits and pieces of plastic and metal landing miles away, embedding themselves into the ground of a polluted zone. The door to the infirmary quietly squeaked open.
“So, bad news. No Eishia until tomorrow. Good news, Semiu says that I can watch over you. If you want,” Enjin shrugged. He had an unlit cigarette dangling from his hand.
“Mhm.”
“Got something for you here.”
“I’m…not smoking, Enjin.”
“The other hand, kid.”
“Oh.”
Enjin tossed a bottle of something into Zanka’s lap.
“I don’t need these.”
“Yeah, and I’m sure you’re entirely invincible as well. Just take one.”
“I’ll wait for the healer. I’m-”
“Zanka Nijiku.”
The stare leveled on the younger man made him shiver. “What even are these?”
“Pain killers. Tomme dug them out of the aid kit for you. Are you going to keep fighting me on this?”
“I’m not in any pain! I don’t need to take these when Eishia can do her job tomorrow.”
There was no response from Enjin. Instead, he sat down, jostling the thin mattress. Zanka hissed as the movement jostled his legs. Not the best look after his whole tantrum. A Nijiku didn’t let such discomfort get to them. They took it in stride, used it to get better. Not wallow away in a bed, having someone else take care of them. That wasn’t how it worked. If his siblings saw him…Zanka gritted his teeth. At that moment, he didn’t care what Enjin thought. The bottle fell to the floor. He turned back to the window, avoiding looking at the other man. He could feel the yellow eyes boring into his chest.
“I’ll leave them here for you, if you want them. Don’t act like you have to prove something to me.”
“Whatever.”
The bed shifted as the older man stood. His reflection stretched in the window, the only bit that Zanka was willing to acknowledge. He wasn’t going to succumb to such weak-willed wants. That would be a black mark on his untarnished reputation. Among the Cleaners, at least. He was the golden boy, right? Even Enjin praised him. Pain he didn’t acknowledge was pain he didn’t feel. His sister had said something similar. During their final conversation, of course. He scowled at the desolate look in his eyes. He was better than this.
“Zanka. Zanka, wake up.”
“Go away,” Zanka muttered, voice thick with sleep.
“No, I need you to wake up.”
“‘m tired.”
“I know that. I need to talk to you.”
“Talk ta someone else.”
“Man, you are impossible.”
Zanka cracked an eye open at that. Enjin stood over him, eyes closed. His fingers were pinching the bridge of his nose. A man feigning being lost in thought. The comment had no malice behind it, only a tinge of frustration. Nothing like what he was used to. That warranted some of his attention.
“What?”
“Eishia’s been delayed. It’ll be at least a week. Do you want to deal with this now or wait until she’s back?”
“A…a week? What happened?”
“She was called to assist with some other casualty, Team Child got hit pretty hard. C’mon, sit up for me.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And wake up a bit more. I’m not going to do anything,” Enjin murmured.
Zanka groaned. He dragged himself up, arms shaking with the effort. There was a strange ache in his joints. It permeated every bit of his legs, cinching tight around his bones. Enjin drew the covers off. The cool air only made it worse. It didn’t take long for Zanka’s teeth to start chattering. He was never usually this cold. HQ was never anything other than a little too warm. He spared a glance at his legs. The skin he could see was mottled with bruising, not that he could feel it. A slight dizziness overtook him. Zanka bent forward, trying to steady his mind. A hand settled onto his shoulder. It didn’t do anything to calm the swirling room around him.
“Should’ve listened to me, huh?”
“Shuttup.”
“At a later date. Let’s get you working first.”
“What does that consist of.”
“Getting you to actually take these,” Enjin smirked. He shook the abandoned pill bottle at the younger man.
“Only if you have something to drink.”
“Uh…does beer count?”
“Just. Give me that.”
Zanka snatched the bottle out of the other’s hand. He stared at the label for a few seconds before wrenching the cap off. Whatever liquid Enjin extended towards him was waved off, choking down two pills before throwing the recapped bottle back onto the dresser. He was better than this. The bed creaked as Enjin settled at the end, careful not to jostle the mattress too much. He was stronger than this. There was a tense silence. Enjin was fidgeting with the glass in his hands. Zanka was doing everything to avoid eye contact. Of all the people to appear weak in front of, it had to be him. The Enjin. This was entirely pathetic.
“Do…is there anything else we need to do, or is it just this for a week?”
“Mostly this. Unless you had something else in mind.”
“I don’t want to be stuck like this for a week,” Zanka muttered.
“We can figure something out. I don’t think they want you on your feet, so maybe I can carry you around,” Enjin smirked. “You probably weigh the same as a stick.”
“You will not be carrying me around. I refuse to let that happen.” A furious blush had taken over much of Zanka’s face. He ducked his head lower to try and hide it.
“What, it’s not like Riyo would be too harsh in her teasing.”
“It’s not Riyo I’m afraid of.”
“Really? Then what are you afraid of?” Enjin leaned forward, placing a hand close to the other’s thigh to steady himself.
“...Nothing. I just don’t need your help.”
“Bullshit. You think you’re this brick wall all the time, and that no one would be able to find those specific tics of yours, right? I know you, and I know that you aren’t going to stay in this bed all alone. So either you injure yourself more and get stuck in an even worse bed, or you let me carry you to your room. And then we can figure out how to get you outside. Someone here should be able to float you right out the door. That would be a sight to see.”
“You’re not making a great case.”
“Any case I make won’t be good enough for you.”
“Then, as long as you promise to take me to my room. Nowhere else.”
“Pinky promise, drama queen.”
“Fine.”
Enjin cracked one of those smiles of his before standing. He fully pulled the covers off, dropping them over the footboard. Zanka had no strength to even try to pull his legs closer. Instead, he just gripped the undersheet and shivered. How unbecoming of him. To have to rely on someone else like this. He should’ve been able to march out on his own. Enjin slipped a hand under Zanka’s legs, cupping the other around his arm. He lifted Zanka like he was nothing. The infirmary door creaked open. It was strange to be cradled against such a strong chest. Almost comforting. Well, it would be if he were a bit weaker. Enjin was just moving him. That’s all this was.
Soft chatter from the mess hall trickled down the hall. People that Zanka was desperately trying to avoid. He didn’t need to be pitied. Half the reason he wanted out of that damn infirmary bed. Enjin traced the familiar path back to the younger man’s room. Zanka let his eyes droop ever so slightly. He could trust the other. The walking faltered. A door opened, Enjin slipping through. He kicked the door shut. The muffled sound of people walking past broke through the door.
“I don’t think we’re getting to your room.”
“Dat’s fine,” Zanka murmured.
“I hope you don’t mind staying in my room then.”
“As long as I get the bed.”
“And leave me on the floor? You monster,” Enjin laughed.
“You’re too big for both of us to fit on your rinky dink mattress.”
“You’d be surprised. Brace yourself.”
“Mhm.”
Feather soft blankets met his skin, dragging him deep into foreign comfort. He could feel his walls crumbling. The human urge for connection was burrowing under the rebar and concrete barriers of his mind. Zanka had half a mind to let it win. Throw himself at Enjin’s feet and beg for the man to show him what care was. Lose what little dignity he had left. He pulled the blankets around his body, as if to shield himself from the storm brewing in his bones. Enjin reappeared, dropping another blanket over the younger man. He kicked a few more onto the floor, creating a crude nest to lie in.
“Comfortable?”
“I guess.”
“Do you want me to grab anything else then?”
“Do you have to sleep on the floor?”
“Sorry?” There was a strange look on Enjin’s face.
“You were just…warm. It felt nice.”
“You’re really out of it, aren’t you?”
Zanka furrowed his eyebrows and sighed. “Don’t make me change my mind.”
“Impatient, impatient.”
The other man gently scooched him closer to the window, leaving enough room for both of them to lie next to each other. Enjin settled onto his side. He was soon snoring away, letting Zanka study the trace of tattoos up the back of his neck. He shakily reached a hand out, almost as if to touch them, before letting it drop. So close, and yet so very far away. This was worse than if he had been cooped up alone in his room. Much, much worse.
That dull ache was back. What little of his legs that Zanka could feel throbbed angrily against the blanket resting on them. The rest of his body hurt in a way he could ignore. Yet, there he was, awake. Enjin’s clock blearily blinked a time that he couldn’t quite read. He could, at least, make out a blocky three at the very beginning. Too early to be up. Not comfortably, at least. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dark. His body did not adjust to the realized feeling of another body pressed against his. Enjin’s arm hung loosely over Zanka’s stomach, keeping the other pinned in place. It was suffocating.
Zanka shifted onto his back. That was more comfortable than forcing himself to stare into Enjin’s chest for the next four hours. The ceiling was just as infuriating to study. It held no answers that would’ve satisfied his mind, instead mocking his paralysis. The soft lights from outside stretched across the gray slap brush texture above. A taunting freedom he could only see through the window. Zanka’s teeth gritted. There was no way he could survive a week of this. Of being manhandled, of being so weak. Of being so dirty. The shower was a monster he wasn’t sure he could conquer in this state, yet asking for help seemed a poison worse than anything that had ever entered his body. He would not be cleaned by some other person. Zanka would rather gut himself.
He forced his mind to wander to Enjin’s room, barring the window from any more thoughts. Cigarette smoke, with its comforting acrid taste, permeated almost everything in the room. Zanka was the only thing unclaimed. The only thing that wasn’t entirely Enjin’s. His chest ached. The sheer casualness of lying in another’s bed, without a thought in the world, was something he never cared for. So why did the concept of leaving hurt so much? He didn’t need this. It was too warm. The blankets were suffocating him more than anything. Zanka’s inability to do anything for himself in this state was eating away at him. A flash of shame shook his body as tears pricked at his eyes. He tried to wipe them away. He really did try. A little too hard, unfortunately.
“Zanka? What’re you doing?”
“Nothing. Go back to sleep.”
“What time is it?”
“Early. Please go back to sleep, Enjin.”
“You sound upset.” A sleepy observation that cut Zanka in half. He was weak, he was pathetic, and he was making a fool of himself in front of the other man.
“I’m not.”
Enjin propped himself up to study the other. “Yeah, totally believable. Are you going to keep pretending that you’re this stoic unfeeling statue, or can we have a conversation that acknowledges you’re a person?”
“I’d rather not.”
“It’s not like anyone else is going to hear this. And I dutifully promise to not tell anyone else that you’re capable of feeling emotions.”
“Ha ha, very funny. I just don’t want to have this conversation at three in the morning,” Zanka muttered.
“Why, so you can ignore that this ever happened? You’re not getting out of this,” Enjin snorted.
“Yes, I am.”
Enjin’s gaze flickered. He fully sat up, tearing the blankets off of both of them. One of Zanka’s wrists was grabbed, used to haul him up into the other. His forehead rested against Enjin’s shoulder for a few fleeting seconds. It toyed with his heart again. He was leaned back, resting against a large collection of pillows that Enjin had dragged behind the younger man. Such a small action. A few more tears slipped down Zanka’s face. He grimaced and dropped his gaze.
“I hope you’re not crying over me,” Enjin chuckled. “I’d have to grovel at your feet to make up for it.”
“It’s…not entirely you,” Zanka whispered. He gathered up fistfuls of blanket, knuckles white with how forceful he gripped the fabric.
“Then what is it?”
“I don’t…I can’t…I’m sorry. This is so fucking pitiful, for me to act like this. There’s too many things happening all at once and I can’t keep track of any of it and you’re just too nice.”
“Sorry?”
Zanka ignored the interruption. If he stopped now, he would shut back down into silence. “Sure, you check in on us when we do land ourselves in the infirmary, but not to this degree. Not…letting me sleep in your bed because you knew I wouldn’t want to be seen like this by people and being perfectly okay with that and not thinking that I should’ve been stronger about being useless and leaving me to my own defenses. Which you should’ve done. I’m hardly worth this sort of trouble.”
“I wouldn’t have dug you out of the ruins of a building if I didn’t think you were worth the trouble, Zanka Nijiku,” Enjin said simply. “And you can’t walk. I’m not going to abandon you to the lonely fate of staring out the windows in the infirmary because you think you’re some lame piece of trash. You’re the only one who thinks that, y’know.” The older man tapped the side of Zanka’s forehead.
“You’d be surprised at how wrong you are. I think this is the only place that hasn’t treated me like some disappointment. It’s still so jarring to me to not be immediately reprimanded for some mistake. Hell, you praise me for it, sometimes.”
“Because I’m treating you like a person. Apparently I need to be doing that more.”
“No! You don’t need to do that! You should be pushing me to do better, not worrying about if–”
A hand slapped over Zanka’s mouth. The look on Enjin’s face was a much softer warning than he had been expecting. The desired effect of getting the other to shut up was achieved. Even as the hand dropped. As the gears visibly turned in Enjin’s mind, Zanka fidgeted with the blankets he had previously been trying to tear apart. This night was not turning out how he wanted it to. Spilling his guts like this? Being awake so early? Having an actual heartfelt conversation with another person? Never in his wildest dreams had he entertained any of that.
“I apologize for never picking up on any of this, Zanka. Should’ve said something, though, so you’re not totally off the hook.” The scolding tone in Enjin’s voice held no actual malice. Just concern.
Zanka shrugged. “You were never supposed to find out. Vulnerability is weakness. Connection leads to fragility. Your people can be used against you.”
“That must be a sad existence. Depriving yourself of what makes you human. Are you really that scared to lose us?”
Enjin rested a hand on the younger man’s thigh, more grounding than he probably intended it to be. Thin, shaking fingers hesitantly intertwined with the other. Zanka was pretending to study the appendage to avoid answering the question. The whole issue, laid bare at his feet. His heart had lurched at the gentle way Enjin had asked it. His whole body tensed with the urge to answer. Something he didn’t have the strength to fight anymore. Zanka let himself drop against Enjin’s shoulder again, hoping his words would be lost against the thin shirt.
“...Of you, yes.”
“Ah. I see. Do I have permission to change that?”
“You’re just going to make it worse,” Zanka chuckled. “What if you scare me away forever?”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take if it means I have a chance at keeping you for the rest of time.”
The watery blue eyes that stared up at him held more hope that Enjin had ever seen from the younger. It would be a little endearing, if it weren’t so worrying. Zanka never looked at anyone like this. The unfamiliar, unbridled want created more storms across the waterfront than losing a fight had. Enjin traced Zanka’s jaw with his thumb, feeling the tense muscles relax slightly. He knew Zanka had been lost for a while, trying to stabilize himself within the Cleaners ranks. Trying to make something of the sudden loss of rules that came with how they structured themselves compared to the Hell Guard. Enjin would gladly be the calm the younger man desired.
Zanka sighed, resting a bit more weight in the hand cradling his face. He had abandoned any care for how he was perceived by the older. He didn’t feel the constant requirement to keep himself together at the moment. Nor did he feel the need to keep every part of him to himself. Zanka snagged the front of Enjin’s shirt, pulling him forward. His lips hesitantly found Enjin’s. When there was no resistance, he gained a bit more confidence. Not that the kiss was anything more than a quick connection before Zanka pulled away. He was testing the waters. Seeing if he even had a chance outside of being shunned for even entertaining the idea that Enjin would be interested in someone like him.
“You have all the grace of an elephant when it comes to kissing,” Enjin grinned.
“Sorry, I haven’t exactly had as many chances as you to practice such a thing.”
“What are you implying with that?”
Zanka’s smile was soft in return. “Whatever you want me to imply with it.”
Enjin rolled his eyes. He leaned back in, now using both his hands to cup Zanka’s cheeks. Their second kiss was far warmer, no longer overshadowed by the weight of their conversation. It was no longer a plea for help. Just a confirmation that the other was there. Enjin’s hand sunk into the ashen hair of the other man, deepening the kiss slightly. He felt Zanka smile into it. So many rare sights tonight, kept all to himself. He was far too content to keep it that way.
The sun beat down into the training yard, almost a little too hot from where Zanka sat. He was ramrod straight on one of the many benches, watching Riyo spar with the wall across from her. Merely acting as a supervisor to let Enjin take a break. A bit hard, seeing as he couldn’t get up to help her, but that was Gris’s job anyways. The Supporter was simply backup. If Riyo got too out of hand, he was the one to swoop in and drag out of whatever trouble she got herself into. Which meant that neither of them had anything to do apart from sit in silence. Riyo was more than capable of handling herself, just as Zanka knew this was all some sort of half-baked plan to get him outside.
“Eishia should be home tomorrow,” Gris pointed out.
“Mhm? That’s good.”
“You’ll be up and walking in no time. It’ll be good to have you back in action.”
“And Enjin can stop carrying you around like a distressed princess,” Riyo piped up. She had skidded to a stop in front of the two men.
“He has not been ‘carrying me like a princess,’” Zanka snapped. “It’s simply the easiest way to help me from place to place.”
“Sure, huh uh. And then you’re going to whine and complain when he has to stop doing that cause Eishia fixes your broken ass. I’m calling it now that he’s going to throw himself through another building before the week is over, Gris.”
The Supporter laughed at that. “I’ll give you ten bucks if that happens.”
“Deal!”
“Get back to work, Riyo!”
“Bossy, bossy! I hope you get worked like this when you get back on your feet.”
“I’m already planning on it,” Zanka huffed. “And I’ll be beating your ass again before the day is over.”
“As if! It’ll take a few days at least. I’ll be better than you for thirty six hours, just count on it!”
“I could wipe the floor with your ass now.”
“Okay, you two, knock it off. No need bickering about things that aren’t even happening yet. Riyo, back to work,” Gris ordered.
“I’ve done everything Enjin wanted me to.”
“Then sit, and stop bickering.”
Right as Riyo dropped to the ground, Enjin’s head popped out from the doorway. “Zanka out here?”
“Right here.”
“Awesome. Guess who got back a day early.”
“And here I was, saying he only had a day to wait. Alright, up and at ‘em,” Gris smiled.
“You two can stay. I’ll drag Zanka’s sorry ass to the infirmary myself.”
“Ooo, I’m sure he’ll love that,” Riyo smirked.
“Get me away from her,” was hissed in Enjin’s direction.
The older man took an anguishly long time making his way over to the bench, sticking his hands in his pocket and whistling. A comical attempt at pretending to ignore the pleading eyes staring him down. Compared to the intensity of the stare coming from him, Zanka was perfectly composed. Hands politely folded in his lap, shoulders relaxed, jaw clenched as tight as it could go. That got a laugh out of Enjin. Anyone who knew the younger could tell that he was annoyed by the others’ lack of grace. Either it was missed by the other two, or they were purposely pissing him off. Most likely a mixture of both. Enjin knelt next to Zanka, preparing to pick him up.
“Here comes the princess treatment I was telling you about, Gris,” Riyo giggled. “Cradle him close, Enjin, he might squirm out at this point.”
“Oh, princess treatment? Is this your way of telling me you’d rather be thrown over my shoulder instead?”
“Do not take her teasing to be an admission from me,” Zanka said. “She’s acting like a child.”
“And you aren’t? This whole week you’ve been acting like some helpless fool.”
Enjin snapped his fingers at that. “Riyo. He’s not doing it on purpose, so cool it. Ready, Zanka?”
He got a nod as the only answer. Enjin hoisted the other up, keeping him close to his chest. The tense muscles didn’t relax. There were still too many eyes watching to drop whatever thin shield he was keeping up. Riyo stuck her tongue out, hopping to her own feet. Carefully, to not drop the man in his arms, Enjin lightly flicked the side of her head. It was the only serious punishment she was going to get. At least until Zanka could stand on his own two feet. Then, she was likely to get buried in whatever retaliation he thought up. Gris barked an order for her to get back to training as Enjin ducked back inside.
As soon as the door closed, Zanka went limp. He buried his head into Enjin’s chest, a futile attempt to block the rest of the world out. The familiar walk to the infirmary was quiet. Only Enjin’s boots against the tile made any noise. Anything that Zanka wanted to say was blocked by the lump in his throat. They really did see him as weak for giving in to his injuries like this. He hadn’t been able to go on any missions, nor could he help with the aftermath. He had been rendered utterly useless for the Cleaners. No wonder there was a slight animosity from the others. Zanka could no longer pull his weight, hadn’t been for a week. Who knows how long it would take before he was cleared to start working again. Zanka was suddenly dropped, the thin infirmary mattress meeting his body.
“Oops, sorry Zanka. I’ve got a few things to deal with still, but Eishia’s got you covered. Can’t wait to see you walking,” Enjin said.
With that, he was gone. Leaving Zanka alone. Maybe it was getting to the leader as well. Having to drag his strongest fighter around like this, seeing him at his worst. Strongest. Zanka dropped his eyes. He certainty wasn’t that anymore. Rudo had shot past his skill level not long after he had been bedbound. He had no chance to catch up now. Maybe he would get kicked out again. The Cleaners could find someone else to take his spot. There were plenty of genius givers out there that would jump at the chance to have Cleaner wages. Eishia crept up to the bed, her instrument flashing with electricity. Zanka couldn’t remember where he had even left his Lovely Assistaff. What a failure.
His feet were unsteady for the first few steps he had taken out of the infirmary. Zanka relied more on the wall for support than his own body. Enjin had effectively abandoned him. It had been a few hours since he had last seen the blond. The windows reflected a dark sky, somewhere between deep night and breaking day. It just made him long for his room. To sleep off the lingering pain that Eishia hadn’t been able to chase away. Zanka longed for the warmth of his bed, of another person, of the simple safety just out of his reach. Simple things that he had pushed away for far too long. Things he would continue to ignore. There were no sane people in the Cleaners that would dare to touch anything but the hardened mask he had created. Zanka had let it slip too far, succeeding in only scaring those he thought he could trust. He sagged further against the wall, fully lost in his own thoughts. That shameful burn of tears was back. Zanka chided himself for that. He was healed, he was walking, he was capable of being on his own again. Why was he being so fragile about all of this?
A hand slipped around his waist. “There you are.”
“Enjin?”
“At your service. Sorry for abandoning you, Zanka. Wasn’t my intention for tonight, but Corvus had a bit more work than I was expecting. Are you alright?”
“I…just want to go to sleep.”
“We can make that happen,” Enjin murmured. “How much help do you want from me?”
Zanka pushed off the wall to collapse against the taller man. “Princess.”
“Eishia did a number on you, didn’t she? Here.”
Enjin squatted down, slipping Zanka’s arms around his neck. As he stood, he braced his hands around the other’s thighs. Zanka loosely cinched his legs around Enjin’s waist. He was barely able to keep his grip. It was a good thing his room was right around the corner. Less need to throw the younger man over his shoulder. Enjin felt hair brush against his cheek as Zanka dropped his head.
“Do you think this makes me weak?”
“Whaddya mean?” Enjin carefully shouldered the door to Zanka’s bedroom open.
“Relying on you like this. Never once doing something for myself.”
“Riyo’s teasing didn’t put that into your head, did she?”
“...Not just her.”
“No, Zanka, I don’t think you’re weak. And I’ll keep saying that until it rewrites whatever part of your brain keeps telling you otherwise.”
“Mmh. That sounds nice.”
“I’ll remember that for next time, then,” Enjin murmured.
He placed a kiss onto Zanka’s forehead before settling him onto his bed. A soft whine escaped Zanka before he could stop it. He clamped a hand over his mouth, a deep blush coloring his cheeks. Enjin barked out a bit of laughter as he locked the door.
“No need to sound so disappointed! I’m not going anywhere.”
Zanka glared at the other man, his voice muffled. “Good. You wouldn't have made it past the door regardless.”
“Aren’t we clingy tonight?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m simply cold.”
Enjin rolled his eyes as he dropped into bed next to the younger man. Zanka was pulled atop the other, hands folded over his back to keep him in place. He immediately melted, letting the thump of Enjin’s heart fill his head. A far more comforting sound than the buzzing silence that he would’ve been left to. Something he could wholly count on. Enjin wasn’t going to leave. At the moment, he was all Zanka’s. And that was all he needed.