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Zanka was shocked to say it, but his first official date with Jabber hadn’t gone too bad.
He hated to admit it, but he’d spent hours stressing about what to wear. He was lucky that Amo agreed to help him when she heard it was about a date, and he was even luckier that she didn’t pry too much about who it was, even though she was clearly curious. He chose a simple white button up shirt with dark blue dress pants, not too formal, not too informal.
Jabber had seemed to have same idea, wearing a pale rouge tux. It was a little weird to see Jabber dressed formally. It’s not like he always saw Jabber in his Raiders get up, but he seemed to generally prefer baggy clothes rather than traditionally formal wear. He didn’t look bad though, Zanka thought. Far from it.
They’d went to some rundown diner, far away from Cleaners HQ and the Raiders lair. It wasn’t the most fabulous or anything, but Jabber had ranted so long about how he’d spent all this time searching for something he thought Zanka would like that Zanka couldn’t help but want to give it a chance.
The food was good, though. A little burnt, but Zanka didn’t mind that much. Jabber had ordered the spiciest thing on the menu and then doused it in homemade hot sauce, because of course he did.
Still, even with Jabbers shenanigans, it was nice. Really nice. Zanka had never been on a date before, but he liked just hanging out with Jabber for once. No sneaking around, no bloody fights, just the two of them enjoying their time together.
He’d never thought of the prospect before. He and Jabber were chaotic, always butting heads or exchanging pain. Or maybe he had thought about it, but he pushed it down so far that he repressed the thought entirely. Maybe he had thought that being gentle with Jabber like this would be nice, but the fear of Jabber being bored with him scared him away from the thought.
But Jabber never seemed bored. He stayed interested through the entire date, entranced with Zankas random ramblings about Trash Beasts and Cleaner shenanigans. Hell, Jabber was the one who’d brought up the idea of a date in the first place. A warm feeling bloomed at that realization. That Jabber would like mundane things as long as it was with Zanka.
It meant something. He hoped it did.
The two were walking out of the diner, down the dusty road. They hadn’t really made a plan for what to do after, but Jabber wasn’t concerned by it clearly.
“So, what about it? How’d ya rate our first date Zan-zan?” Jabber questioned, a big grin on his face. It reminded him of the Cheshire Cat, a little. Still, he was so earnestly giddy about something that had nothing to do with violence. It was completely unfamiliar to see him that way, but it was a nice look on him.
“8/10. 2 points off cuz ya looked like you were about to pass out with that concoction of yers.” Zanka replied playfully.
Jabber stuck his tongue out. “Man, I had to make the food interesting y’know. Can’t stand any mild stuff.” His grin returned after saying that, and Zanka could faintly see a dark blush on his cheeks. “But you’re sayin’ without that, it’d be a 10/10, huh?”
Zankas face reddened slightly, looking away from the Raider as he felt his cheeks heat up. “Tch. Don’t let it get t’yer head…” Zanka mumbled, barely able to hold back the smile that tugged at his lips.
Jabber jumped in the air with a ‘wahoo!’ It was so cartoony Zanka almost laughed. When he landed, he looked at Zanka with an excited grin, bouncing up and down with giddiness. “I knew it! Jabber can be a real good charmer when he wants to be, y’know!” Jabber pointed his thumb at himself, his other hand on his hip.
Zanka couldn’t help himself from giggling, pushing Jabber lightly while calling him an idiot. Zanka wondered if this was Jabbers first date too, and if that was why he was so eager to please. Maybe Zanka was just special. He felt his heart swell in his chest.
The two continued down the open road, talking about nothing and everything. Trash beasts, neurotoxins, vital instruments, training. Each topic flowed into the next so easily. Jabber did most of the talking, especially when it came to vital instruments and poisons, but he never talked over Zanka, and was a pretty good listener all things considered.
The two ended up wandering into a small town, which Zanka recognized from an older mission of his. Jabber seemed familiar with it too, but he primarily just seemed bored by it.
The town was littered with wanted posters, both new and old. Zanka wondered if perhaps a lot of bounty hunters lived here, and he suddenly felt like coming here with a criminal wasn’t the best idea. Jabber didnt seem too bothered, still seemingly bored by their surroundings, so that calmed him down a bit.
Zanka didn’t recognize most of the faces on the posters, while some were so faded from time that they were practically illegible. One did stand out to him though, a poster that had been shoddily stuck onto a telephone pole. It had a bit of wear and tear from time, but the face was still recognizable enough that he could tell it looked familiar. Zanka stopped walking alongside Jabber, causing Jabber to pause and look back at him, tilting his head like a curious cat.
“‘Ey, whats this?” Zanka questioned, not waiting for an answer as he grabbed it from the pole.
He’d been right to say the poster looked old. The text and image was faded, so much so he couldn’t see most of the identifying information listed. It would have probably been wrong anyway. What he could see was the age estimate, around 15 or 16, which seemed pretty accurate to him by the mugshot.
As he’d thought, the picture looked like Jabber. The hairstyle was the same, with the exception of the golden accessories and it being considerably shorter. The eyes were similar too, sharing that dead stare Jabber had when he was disinterested in something.
The clothes were different though, a simple beige hoodie instead of his purple Raiders attire. He would have simply assumed it was a younger Jabber, if not for a glaring issue.
His name was wrong.
Not misspelled. He’d seen wanted photos of various Raiders around a few towns during jobs, and misspellings of their names were common. To be fair, it’s not like they could just ask them how their names were spelled. This wasn’t that, the name was just completely different. The last name ‘Wonger’ was the same, so he wasn’t sure how they botched the first name so badly if it was Jabber. Not just that, but Jabbers gender had been listed as female, and Zanka was also pretty sure that was wrong.
Maybe…
“Hey, Jabber?” Zanka asked, turning back to Jabber, who had an odd look on his face. “Do you have a sister or somethin’?”
Jabber raised an eyebrow, his aloof expression switching to passive interest. “Not that I know of? ‘Ey, c’mon now, gimme that.”
Jabber snatched the paper out of Zankas hands before Zanka could respond, which Zanka wanted to say was bad manners, but he kept quiet this once. Jabbers eyes scanned over the page, and his face instantly morphed into frustration, his eyebrows furrowed.
Zanka felt confusion for a split second, before regret washed over him, a pit forming in his stomach. Did Jabber have a sore spot with family like he did? He’d never really thought about it, but it would make sense. Many of the Cleaners had joined the organization to get away from family. Were the Raiders the same?
“Dammit, these things are still up?” Jabber scoffed, “I thought I asked Cthoni to take all’a these down. Guess this is pretty far out though, she prolly didn’t catch it…”
It was clear that Jabber was talking more to himself than to Zanka. He crumpled up the wanted poster, tossing it to the side carelessly. “C’mon, lessgo. Ain’t got time for this.” Jabber said, looking back to Zanka. Zanka bit the inside of his cheek, his guilt only getting worse. Jabber didn’t look particularly upset, really, more annoyed if anything. But Zanka knew what it was like to be reminded of family when you wanted to forget about them. To be constantly dragged back to people who hurt more than they ever helped.
“‘Ey, Zanka, you deaf or sumn’? No offense but, this place is pretty boring so if we could—“
“I’m sorry!” Zanka blurted out. He looked down, avoiding Jabbers eyes, shame written all over his face. “I didn’t know— I’m sorry for bringing up yer sister. I didn’t realize she was a sore spot for ya.”
Zanka kept his eyes on the ground, a weighty silence settling between the two boys. Zanka fists were clenched, his nails digging into his palm. Had he really ruined their date from how careless he was? Dammit, he was meant to know better than this.
He dared to look up at Jabber, expecting anger, hurt, anything. But when he locked eyes with the Raider, he just looked…Perplexed.
“Sister? What are ya—? Oh. Ohhhh. I never told ya, did I?”
Huh? Told him what?
Jabber went to pick up the crumpled paper off the ground, straightening it out enough to be readable again. Zanka stared in confusion as Jabber pointed to the girl in the picture, and side by side, they looked even more similar. It was almost as if—
“This is me. Or, was me I guess.” Jabber shrugged before refocusing. “I’m trans.”
Oh. Oh, that made sense.
That’s why the picture looked so similar to Jabber, despite the obvious difference. Why Jabber had asked Cthoni to take any copies of it down. It had been Jabber, just at a different stage of life.
Zanka suddenly felt very stupid.
“Oh. I didn’t know.” Zanka said, though it was obvious. He wasn’t exactly sure how to react. It’d been a big deal when Eisha had came out to the Cleaners as being a trans woman, they’d held a whole party just to support her. But Jabber spoke about it so casually that he wasn’t exactly sure how to respond. So he just spoke casually too.
“Yeahh, it was before I started makin’ my own T, so I was real gloomy.” Jabber rolled his eyes, as if unimpressed with himself. Or, his past self. His eyes focused back on Zanka. “Y’know, I sorta thought ya knew, ya’ve seen the scars on my chest.”
“Y’have scars everywhere.” Zanka deadpanned.
Jabber grinned at that, “Can’t say you’re wrong.”
Jabbers eyes lit up, in the way Zanka could tell he had an idea. “Hey now, why don’t ya compare ‘em to my usual scars? They’re pretty different, like my magnum opus, ya know?”
Zanka did not know. Zanka had some scars himself, every Cleaner did, but it’s not like he was proud of any of them. Ashamed of some here and there, but he wouldn’t call himself prideful of any of them. If anyone would appreciate scars though, it would be Jabber he supposed.
He didn’t get it, not fully, but Jabber looked so excited in a way that was, admittedly, kind of cute. When had Zanka started finding Jabber cute??? “Sure, but only when we get back to Cleaners HQ. I’m not looking at your bare chest in public.”
Jabber deflated a little. “Awh man, not a voyeur? Guess that’s off the list of things to try.” Jabber sighed, causing Zanka to blush. “But hey, we never decided we’d go to your place. Whats so bad about the Raiders’ joint?”
“Jabber, they would kill me.” Zanka countered. “Only if they found ya. Our rooms are pretty far apart, they prolly won’t even hear ya. Plus, the bossman’s more occupied with Momo than you Cleaners right now, you’ll be fine.” Jabber responded.
Zanka noted that ‘Momo’ probably meant Momoa. He didn’t know the names of all the Raiders, but Jabber liked giving nicknames. Cthoni, the manhole lady was sometimes CiCi, Zodyl was bossman, Bundus was ‘the old man,’ and Momoa was Momo. It was weird to have such threatening enemies be referred to with such childish nicknames, but that was just how Jabber operated he guessed.
“Listen, if anything happens, I’ll just take the fall for it! The bossman’ll just rough me up a lil’ for it, no biggie. Pleaaaaaaseeee, Zan-Zan?” Jabber offered, doing his best attempt at puppy dog eyes.
Unfortunately, beyond all of Zankas better judgement, it worked.
“Fine.”
‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹
The two snuck into Jabbers room through his window, trying to be as quiet as they could. Zanka looked around the room, not sure of what to expect.
Jabbers room was a mix of cleanliness and chaos, clearly organized in a way that would work best for Jabber. There were tons of vials around the room, all messily labeled with informal language like ‘twitchy hands toxin’ or ‘weird breathing poison.’ He guessed it made sense for Jabber to label them based on their effects rather than their names, though the fact that at least some of these had once flowed through Zankas blood made him shudder a bit.
Jabber had a few flowers scattered around his room, all of which Zanka recognized as being poisonous. The clear danger of the plants were offset by the cutesy doodles Jabber had wrote in glittery sharpie on their pots, messy hearts and stars drawn all over.
“Hey, if you’re done sightseein’, come sit on the bed with me.” Jabber piped up, taking off his suit jacket and his shoes. Zanka nodded absentmindedly, taking off his shoes and placing them in the corner. “Can’t I be a lil’ curious about yer room? Ya’ve seen mine plenty.”
Jabber giggled, hopping onto his bed. “Ain’t my fault you don’t leave you’re window locked.” He teased.
Jabber rocked side to side on the bed, sitting in a crisscrossed position humming to himself until Zanka sat on the bed with him. “So…” Zanka trailed off, his eyes trailing down to Jabbers still covered chest. Jabber snickered, leaning his head to the side. “My my, Zan-Zan, didn’t know you were so impatient to get handsy.”
Zanka felt his face start burning, “That’s— you— we didn’t— shaddup!” Zanka grabbed one of Jabbers pillow and hit Jabber with it, causing Jabber to fall and laugh even more. Zanka covered Jabbers face with the pillow, not enough to get anywhere near to suffocate him, still hearing the muffled giggles from under the pillow.
“Hush! I don’t want someone to hear us, dumbass.” Zanka hissed, though his voice lacked any bite. He removed the pillow from Jabbers face, and Jabber sat back up, a stupid grin on his face.
“Chill outtt, I already told ya we’d be fine. I’ll hurry up though, ‘m pretty excited too.” Jabber teased, moving his hands up to begin unbuttoning his shirt. Zanka felt the slightest bit embarrassed staring at Jabber undress, even if it wasn’t all too suggestive given the context.
Jabber peeled away his shirt, discarding it next to him. Without the cover of his shirt, Zanka could see every scar littered on his frame. Some were clearly self inflicted, from small pricks around Jabbers’ neck to the cuts that littered his arms. Others seemed like battle scars, like stab wounds and deep scratches. Some scars were old, some new, like a collection of wounds Jabber had been building up for years.
What caught his attention the most were Jabbers top surgery scars, probably because it was the whole reason Jabber was showing off his torso in the first place. They seemed a bit thicker than the usual ones, a clearly intentional spiky pattern indented within Jabbers skin. Zanka wondered what doctor would add customization to a procedure like this. Did the Raiders have a surgeon?
“You can touch ‘em, if you want.” Jabber offered, voice softer than usual. Zanka flushed slightly. It wasn’t anything new for Zanka to caress Jabbers wounds. The bumpy texture of Jabbers’ various cuts were always a nice sensory experience, though some part of him worried about just how scarred Jabbers was. He knew they weren’t on that level yet, from the way Jabber deflected any talk of things he deemed too personal. It was alright, Zanka could be patient.
This felt different though. More intimate. Feeling Jabbers top surgery scars, thr ones he’d labeled his magnum opus’, all on the first date.
…Jabber really did trust him, huh?
“Tell me if I mess up.” Zanka said, reaching for Jabbers chest. He held the sides of Jabbers chest, making it so his thumbs could feel up the scars. He ran his thumbs up and down the thick scars, his touch gentle. Zanka looked up at Jabber, seeing the Raider look down at Zankas hands with something like affection and trepidation.
Jabber moved his hands to hold Zankas, still allowing him to touch his scars while he rubbed circles into the back of Zankas hands. Zanka leaned closer to Jabber, the silence uncommon for the two but not unwelcome. It was nice. This was nice.
“Told ya. These babies are my pride and joy.” Jabber smiled wistfully. “Did ‘em all by myself, y’know?”
Zanka took a minute to take in Jabbers words, pausing once he did. The gears in his head turned slowly, slowly, until he came to a realization.
No fucking way.
“YOU DID THIS YOURSELF?!”
“Hehehe, yeah.” Jabber snickered, “Did it in my room, made all the stuff I needed myself. Or most of it. Cthoni got mad at me ‘cuz the recovery time lined up with a mission, but Zodyl let me take that one off.” Jabber shrugged, “Think I’m still makin’ up for that.”
Zanka felt exasperated, some mix of concern and bewilderment. Of course their soft moment had been interrupted by Jabber typical shenanigans. “Jabber, if ya do another impromptu surgery on yourself, we are not going on another date.”
“But Zaaaaanka!” Jabber pouted, as if Zanka was being unreasonable. “No buts. Yer my boyfriend, ain’t ya? I’d prefer if ya didn’t die doing surgery on yourself.” Zanka rebutted, his eyes widening as he realized something. “You didn’t do bottom surgery on yerself, did ya-?”
“Huh? Nah. I don’t think I’m gettin’ that anyway.” Jabber replied, “But I guess if you’re so worried about lil’ ol’ Jabber, I won’t do it againnnn!”
Zanka sighed, relief flowing over him like a wave. Before he could wonder if Jabber would even actually do it, Jabber went and wrapped his hands around the back of Zankas neck, pulling him down as he laid on the bed. “C’mon, lay with me, won’t ya?” He asked, a soft grin on his face.
Zanka knew it would be smarter to leave. If Zodyl caught him lying down with one of his own, he’d probably kill Zanka before the Cleaner would be able to realize what was happening. But instead, he rested his head in the crook of Jabbers neck, moving his arms so he could hug Jabbers’ torso. “10 minutes. 20 tops. I still gotta get back to th’Cleaners soon.” He murmured.
Jabber sighed dramatically, but Zanka knew he understood. Jabber placed a kiss on the top of Zankas head, and the two laid down like that for a little while longer.
The Raiders’ base was pretty quiet compared to the usual hustle and bustle of the Cleaners. He heard the occasional movement of someone or someones, floors creaking and cabinets opening, but for the most part, there was nothing other than the steady breathing of the two boys. It was odd, but it steadied Zankas nerves just slightly.
Zanka let himself relax on top of Jabber. He knew he’d have to leave soon, knew they’d fight again in the future, knew it couldn’t be this peaceful forever.
But that was the future, and this was now. So Zanka appreciated what was now.