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excuse abuse

Summary:

Zanka didn't know when it had become a routine.

Or maybe, he did know.

He just didn't want to acknowledge it.

Notes:

Gachiakuta was a masterpiece created by Kei Urana.

I did not gain any material profit from this fanfiction.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

 

 

Zanka didn't know when it had become a routine.

Or maybe, he actually did know.

He just didn't want to acknowledge it.

Because it started as an accident.

He wasn't usually one to lose control of himself but on a particular night, at the height of the moment, Zanka did.

He got drunk.

Despite liking the way alcohol warmed his body and helped him loosen up, Zanka was also aware of his low tolerance towards alcohol. He could manage some, but he knew when to stop because he would much rather have control of his consciousness.

That night, Zanka remembered telling himself, that he would stop.

On his first glass.

The second glass, and third glass, and only God knew how many glasses after, Zanka unfortunately lost count.

He could blame someone, a very particular someone, who kept refilling his glass, teasing him to get some more.

"Live a little," Zanka remembered the words. "Don't be so uptight, Zanka. Or maybe, you don't think, you can handle it?"

And Zanka, the prideful one that he was, took it as a challenge.

Only to obviously lose at the end.

The one who was responsible for this, well, it's a good thing that the responsibility extends to bring Zanka back to his room, half-asleep.

Zanka could deflect by saying he couldn't remember, that he couldn't be held accountable for what he had done when he was inebriated.

But he knew, he was lying.

And he would never, ever, admit to it, because admitting it would only make it worse.

If he was conscious enough, why would he ever do something like that?

Why would Zanka pull Enjin to his bed, practically forcing him to sleep with him?

Literally. Their physical difference apparently wasn't a big issue, when Zanka really set his mind into his action and Enjin, who was had his own fill of alcohol was weak enough to not resist.

It wasn't even anywhere near anything sexual.

Amidst his foggy brain, all Zanka could feel was just comfort, and warmth, and Enjin. And he was so close, Zanka would hate himself to let go.

"Zanka, hey—" he heard the shocked response, but Zanka couldn't care less. He latched on to Enjin like a giant octopus, locking his movement with his own limbs, imprisoning him.

He didn't even remember saying anything coherent, but the grunts and petulant whine somehow was enough to convince Enjin that fighting this off was futile.

Slowly slipping into the slumber, Zanka thought that he had never felt such a peace with everything Enjin surrounding him.

 


 

It lasted for a good four hours, before he woke up with a ferocious headache and horror to the sight of Enjin's abs right in front of his face. Enjin who was apparently spending the night with Zanka.

On Zanka's bed.

His first instinct was to scramble away, but after a poor attempt of escaping he realized it was no use.

Enjin wrapped him with his arm, one inch from drowning Zanka to his chest.

To add more horrifying aspects of this, Zanka noticed Enjin stirred awake too, peering down at him the moment Zanka looked up on reflex.

"Never had such a good sleep," he grinned, like he didn't just give Zanka a heart attack. Enjin had to not fully awake because he did not just brush a hair off Zanka's forehead like—what?! What the hell is happening?

"Gimme five minutes, Zanka," Enjin sighed, eyes slipping shut again. It might have been his imagination, but did Enjin just pull him even closer?

This hangover really screwed with his head.

It had to be.

There was no other logical answer for his strange behavior.

Either that, or Zanka was still under the alcohol influence, hallucinating or whatever. He never got drunk before, so it was definitely a possibility.

He opened his mouth to say something—to protest, to refuse, but Zanka couldn't find the words. The buzzing sound in his head was way too loud for him to think clearly.

"Five more minutes, Zanka," Enjin murmured. "And we'll go get some hangover reliever from Eishia."

And it was the longest five minutes in his life.

Even if it was true to his words, Enjin did wake up, and he did go to the infarmary, and he did get a hangover reliever from Eishia, and even he did manage to get Zanka to eat some light breakfast; it was still surreal.

As he watched Enjin laugh at something that Riyo said, Zanka couldn't help but wonder if what happened was even real.

 


 

Until it did.

This time, he was sober.

This time, he was completely aware of his surroundings, and this time, it was not him who roped Enjin to do something against his will, but it was Enjin himself who knocked on his room.

"This is stupid," Enjin opened without any preamble, leaning on the side of the door. "But I do sleep better."

Zanka blinked.

Enjin huffed, the kind of huff that he did when he was disappointed. This time, it seemed with himself.

"With you," Enjin clarified.

Zanka was glad, he had turned off the lamp, that he hoped the fluster wasn't so apparent in the darkness.

"That was just one time," Zanka muttered, embarrassed. "You don't need to go at this length to make fun of me."

Enjin straightened his figure. "I don't."

Zanka crossed his arms over his chest, chin up defiantly. "So, you're saying, you go all the way here to tell me the truth?"

It should be a tinge of sarcasm, but it was so faint, Zanka doubted Enjin could pick it up.

"Yeah," Enjin rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. "And, you know—"

Zanka squinted. "I really don't."

"To ask if I can sleep with you again."

There was no hope, Zanka had never been this red all of his life.

"What?" He hated how his voice came out in embarrassingly high pitch.

"Just one night," Enjin added in a hurry. "Got something to do with Corvus tomorrow, and I'd like to be in my best shape." He cleared his throat. "And it means, I should be getting a proper sleep."

That was the most insane thing Zanka had ever heard, and he was a Cleaner for years so it really said something, considering he had seen and experienced many forms of insanity.

There were tons of reasons why this was a bad idea, but having Enjin on his door, asking Zanka something that Zanka himself would never ever dream of, neutralized the badness.

"Just one night," Zanka stepped back, caving in so easily, as if there were any other scenarios that didn't end up with him allowing Enjin to do anything he wanted.

Only one night.

The second night, and third night, and only God knew how many nights after, Zanka unfortunately lost count.

He could blame someone, a very particular someone, who kept knocking on his door, appearing in the middle of the night.

But Zanka knew, he was equally to blame.

 


 

Zanka didn't know when it had become a routine.

Or maybe, he did know.

He just didn't want to acknowledge it.

Because it all started as an accident.

But an accident didn't happen twice, or thrice, or for the umpteenth.

It was no longer an accident, it had become a decision.

And it started to skirt to the dangerous zone, the one that Zanka should avoid when he could, because this had to do with Enjin.

And as much as Zanka told himself how it also benefited him by having Enjin near, Zanka knew, eventually it had to stop.

For their own good.

"Enjin?" Zanka only got a half-asleep grunt as an answer. Because he was a coward when it came to confronting Enjin, he chose the moment where Enjin was the weakest.

"Have you tried sleeping with anyone else?"

Almost too subtle, but Zanka could feel Enjin's back against his, straining in anticipation.

"I've heard Gris is a heavy sleeper," Zanka continued. "Maybe he could help you better than me."

He didn't expect to hear an almost too impassive answer, echoing in the quiet of the room.

"If you want to get rid of me, say it to my face, Zanka."

Zanka froze.

He recovered rather quickly, trying to inject as much confidence in his voice, emphasizing his point.

"Well, just telling you that there are other options," Zanka pulled the blanket even higher, didn't turn back even if he was tempted to. "That I'm not the only choice you have."

Zanka didn't expect to feel the warm breath grazing his ears, so close and so fast, he didn't get a chance to escape.

"Well, just telling you, Zanka," Enjin imitated. "that if you want to get rid of me, say it to my face."

Zanka stubbornly persisted, refusing to move an inch.

"You sleep better too, don't you, Zanka?" Enjin said. "Less nightmares."

Zanka froze. How

"Riyo told me, you know that little rascal liked to sneak around. Your room is no exception." Enjin shuffled behind him, as if he was adjusting himself. Zanka was almost sure, they were no longer laying back to back. Enjin's gaze on him was scalding hot, stripping him to his core, even if Zanka didn't look into his eyes.

"I thought, it was alcohol at first," Enjin continued. "But after our second night, I knew it had nothing to do with this."

Zanka would need to get on his plan to ward his room against a snooping cockroach like Riyo, ASAP.

It was one thing to sneak around his room and watch him talk in his sleep or whatever. But it was a whole other thing, to tell Enjin about it.

"I don't need your pity, Enjin," Zanka snapped back.

"Worry," Enjin corrected him almost immediately.

Worry, like Zanka was just a reckless kiddo like Rudo. Worry, like Zanka couldn't handle himself like Riyo. Worry, like Zanka was so weak it needed Enjin to fix the situation himself.

When will Enjin realize that Zanka wasn't some fragile chinas that needed his special attention and care? When will Enjin realize that he didn't need to coddle Zanka like he was a spoiled brat that couldn't overcome something as simple as a nightmare?

"I don't need your worry too, Enjin," he clenched his jaw in annoyance.

He didn't expect to have Enjin suddenly huffed above his head, so close to his hair, it blew cold air to the strands.

"You're right," Enjin agreed to his words, out of nowhere. Zanka frowned.

Wait, what?

"My worry isn't genuine," Enjin admitted, with a sad tone. "I just want an excuse that isn't entirely selfish."

Zanka couldn't tell whether it was sarcasm or not, that he decided to turn around and confronted the man himself.

He wasn't usually one to lose control of himself but at this particular moment, Zanka did.

His knee jerked up on the reflex, as if he was being attacked, when Enjin reached for the back of Zanka's neck and pulled him towards himself.

"Careful, now," Enjin hissed, shifted at the right time, avoiding the direct attack.

"Let go of me," Zanka struggled, but Enjin hugged him even tighter.

So tight that if Zanka wasn't careful, he would end up getting squished by Enjin's chest.

"Tell me, Zanka," to his horror, he could feel Enjin's nose burying itself in his hair, inhaling ever slowly. "In which dream of yours I get to appear?"

Zanka's face heated up at the antic.

"None," he lied, so obviously that it got Enjin laughing in response.

"Alright," Enjin didn't push him further, if anything Enjin pulled him even closer. "I sleep better, you sleep better. I guess, when the sleep is good, dreams rarely show themselves."

There were so many wrong things about his statement that Zanka didn't know where to start correcting.

"Now, sleep," Enjin said before Zanka had the opportunity to open his mouth. "It's past midnight."

Even if it was futile, Zanka still tried to push himself off Enjin's chest.

"Don't tell me what to do."

"I'll stop when you stop being stubborn."

"You're the one who invades my room—"

"With your permission."

"Under misguided permission, you mean—"

"Zanka, shut up and get back to sleep."

"And I told you, Enjin, don't tell me—"

It might be no longer than five seconds, or even less.

But it felt like an eternity, when those five seconds robbed more than half of his sanity, paralyzing him, rendering him speechless.

Towering above him, Enjin showed no sign of remorse, only self-satisfaction that was almost too sinister.

Like Zanka should be afraid that he had been indulging this form of creature too, just like he was indulging himself.

No arms kept him in confinement, but still, Zanka could not see a way to escape.

"Shit, I got it all backwards," Enjin dropped back on the bed, running his hand over his face in frustration. At himself apparently. "Date, kiss, bed—not the other way around."

Zanka whipped his head before he croaked an embarrassingly loud, "What?!"

Enjin didn't acknowledge the shock albeit hearing it.

Instead, he turned to Zanka, casually flicked under his ear where his tassel earring usually dangled there.

"Haven't you heard, Zanka? You shouldn't let a man who had never taken you on a date, not even once, to get into bed with you."

Zanka didn't respond, and even if he wanted, he couldn't.

The synapsis in his brain had short-circuited.

Enjin continued, completely unbothered.

"But nobody said anything about never going out with a man who's getting into bed with you."

 

 

Notes:

ETA:

*banging pots and pans*

please check out this beautiful fanart for this fic from @carymono on twt 😭

can enzan stop occupying my mind for a damn minute?