Work Text:
1.
It all starts with something mundane.
Enjin has just finished writing the report for his last mission when he hears familiar knocks on his door. It's perfectly timed, and rather melodious, that he knows who is going to walk through the door even before said person has spoken a word.
"Laundry deliv—what the hell."
The curse gets him spinning in his chair. Zanka enters his room, carrying a wooden basket on his hip.
It seems that he's on laundry duty.
Every week two people are assigned to do the laundry for everyone in the HQ.
Enjin usually remembers when it's Zanka's turn, because Zanka is fussier than a mother with two children, but this time Enjin totally forgot.
He has been so preoccupied with his last mission, with how he has to keep Riyo on the leash and prevent Rudo from doing something reckless; he doesn't have time to prepare himself for Zanka's visit for the laundry duty.
Because Zanka is fussy when it comes to this job.
He probably is the only one who takes this duty very seriously.
Many have been the victims of his wrath for incorrectly folding their laundry, for not separating the laundry based on its colors and the type of fabrics, and this is very personal, but Enjin has heard enough of Zanka complaining that Enjin shouldn't smoke near the fresh and clean laundry.
And hey, he doesn't, okay?
He just may do something else.
"If it's hard for you, you can just stash them right away after I’ve delivered these to you," Zanka grumbles, picking up the scattered clothes off the bed, and some off the nightstand.
Enjin isn't that messy, but he can get very lazy.
Zanka always leaves his laundry neatly folded, and Enjin may not have been doing so good in keeping it that way.
"Look at this," Zanka huffs, pulling another shirt from under the comforter.
It isn't that Enjin likes to sleep with laundry on his bed, but sometimes he just doesn't have the energy to merely walk to the wardrobe and store them where they belong.
It's just laundry, nobody should care that much and Enjin generally doesn't care either but for some reason, Zanka has been real fussy about it.
"Come here and get these done," Zanka points at the clothes he has just gathered, the way he holds the laundry basket on his hip gets Enjin thinking that he looks like an angry mother.
And angering a mother is something that Enjin definitely doesn't want to deal with.
He also may think of the word wife but quickly shoves it to the back of his head. He doesn't want to deal with that either.
Enjin leaves his desk to do what Zanka told him.
"Fold these, exactly the way I did," he commands. Enjin gives him a look, but the younger's face remains stoic, almost too impassive.
Enjin does as he's told, trying to conjure the image of the folded laundry before he makes a mess of himself.
Zanka turns on his heels to collect the dirty laundry, while Enjin sits there quietly, folding his own clothes.
T-shirts are easy, but too many shirts and some formal attire, and pants—uh, Enjin may not pay attention to them a lot.
He's halfway through the mountain of clothes when he feels the bed dip, and he finds Zanka has just unfolded everything he had been working on.
He works effectively, hands show an amazing skill of transforming whatever messes Enjin had made into a pile of perfectly neat, folded laundry.
Enjin would lie if he said that he isn't a bit amazed at the speed and efficiency.
"All done," Enjin pretends he doesn't see Zanka literally undo everything and do it his way.
Zanka stands up, handing him the neatly folded laundry.
"Keep them where you can't mess them up," he says, with an undertone of warning that almost gets Enjin curious about what will happen if he does the opposite.
He doesn't take the risk though.
Only when he accepts the laundry, Zanka eyes him up and down, before a frown deepens on his face.
"Isn't that the T-shirt you wore two days ago?"
Enjin looks down, he actually doesn't remember.
"Uh, maybe?"
Zanka's eyebrows relax, before his face settles to his previous setting: impassive; this time with a dash of annoyance.
"Take it off," he says.
No innuendo, no tease. Like an order. Resembles a command.
Enjin grins, his first instinct is to diffuse the situation with a playful remark.
"Well, well, Zanka, you gotta buy a guy dinner first, you know?"
In another situation, Enjin is 110% sure Zanka would fluster and stammer, but this time he does neither.
"Fine, if you want Semiu to do the round and have her here, instead of me," Zanka simply says, turning his back on him.
That compels Enjin to react.
"Wait, Zanka, no!"
If Zanka is fussy, then what does that make Semiu, who literally threw his laundry out into the corridor when Enjin forgot to separate the clean from the dirty?
Still, when he throws his shirt into Zanka's wooden basket, Enjin can't help but wonder: it's just laundry, why does Zanka care so much?
2.
It all starts with something mundane.
Enjin hadn't meant to swing by Zanka's room, he just saw the door slightly ajar and decided to pay him a visit. Zanka had just done his report and was now enjoying his free time by proofreading Tomme's report because heaven forbid Zanka Nijiku did something fun with his free time.
"You're done with your report and you're already starting another one?"
Zanka is too immersed in his reading to hear Enjin coming in. He makes a mistake by holding a wet ink brush over Tomme's illustration, because he is just fixing the diagram of the latest trash beast they encountered, when Enjin comes in.
"It's not my report," he groans, immediately flicking the brush away from the paper. "And now it's ruined."
Enjin lifts his hands in apology, but he doesn't even need to, because Zanka just straight up points at his bed if Enjin wants to hang out while he cleans up the mess on his desk.
He doesn't have anything to do right now, so why not?
"Tomme's report on your latest mission?" Enjin sighs when he feels the mattress hit his back.
He likes being in Zanka's room, it's one of the few rooms that feels homey and comfortable. He can smell the faint scent of incense in the room, a permanent fixture of Zanka's space.
And he initially thinks it's weird, but the scent grows on him. Zanka tells him that it helps him relax and meditate, and Enjin can see why.
"Yes," Zanka pulls open the drawer, rummaging through the contents. "Tomme says the anatomy is interesting and since that goddamn trash beast basically ate me alive, I can give her some interesting points to look at."
Enjin snickers. He had heard from Follo and Tomme that Zanka was pissed the trash beast immediately vomited him out after it had successfully ruined his uniform and his hair.
"I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not," Enjin teases and Zanka briefly glares at him. "I haven't heard the full story! C'mon, Zanzan, I'm here to listen!"
Zanka gives him the look.
Enjin is familiar with that look lately, and even if it's usually associated with how people get on Zanka's nerves, Enjin has to admit the look suits him in some ways.
Zanka slumps in his chair again. "Didn't they tell you already?"
"Only the good bits," the chuckle earns Enjin another glare. "Well, you don't tell me about the whole thing, how am I supposed to know?"
That gets Zanka to huff. Enjin recognizes that kind of huff. It's the one that he always does when he's near Enjin, because of course, Zanka will cave in for his sake.
"If you laugh, I will beat you up," Zanka warns. Enjin makes a scene of zipping up his mouth.
And then, he starts telling his story.
Enjin listens attentively, he likes hearing Zanka being so absorbed in himself, losing himself in the moment like this, right now.
He knows how much Zanka hates to tell people about his failure stories, but Enjin knows him enough that for Zanka, Enjin is always an exception.
Enjin had seen Zanka at the lowest point of his life, so Zanka thinks there will be nothing to ever top it; so every embarrassment, every mistake, and every failure now will seem insignificant.
It doesn't matter anyway, Enjin smiles to himself. Zanka is the expert at crawling out of the mud, Enjin can testify.
"Take my bed," Zanka suddenly says. It takes longer than thirty seconds for Enjin to make sense of what he's saying. "You're dozing off just now."
Enjin hadn't even realized, Zanka's voice is just so gentle, and he's right, the trace of incense in the room helps him relax, it's just so easy to fall into slumber here.
"You can take a short nap there," Zanka says, turning his back on him to put on his reading lamp again. "I still gotta finish this, anyway."
In another time, Enjin is 110% sure Zanka would never just offer his bed to anyone without realizing how that offer sounds.
Enjin wants to argue, or maybe tease him a little.
But the bed feels so warm and inviting; the faint fragrance in the air is very alluring. It's like being surrounded by everything Zanka.
"Wake me up in half an hour," Enjin decides, throwing an arm over his face.
Zanka doesn't.
3.
It all starts with something mundane.
If anything, it starts the way it usually does.
Enjin takes a drag of his cigarette to wind down from finally clearing up his mission. He needs it lately, with the threat of Raiders at times, with all the conspiracy theories behind the appearance of controlled trash beasts, the whole mission after mission, sometimes he doesn't get to sit when Semiu calls to him and says she needs him—
Thank fuck for the cigarette.
Enjin will never know what to do if he doesn't have one right now, probably going through serious withdrawal if he is separated from the nicotine.
"I know, I'll find you here," the voice comes without warning, but Enjin isn't easily surprised. He turns and finds Zanka peeking his head out of the door.
"What is it?" He huffs smoke between his lips.
Everyone is inside the bar, celebration is in order after they finally finish another mission. The bar is not much of a bar, considering it accepts kids like Dear and Guita inside too.
The feast is usually Enjin's scene, but he hasn't gotten a chance to smoke and he really needs one right now.
Until Zanka shows up.
"Just checking up on you," he says. "You're done here?"
Enjin shows his half-spent cigarette. "In a couple of minutes."
Zanka doesn't seem satisfied with that answer. "You hadn't eaten anything since we left very early this morning."
Now that Zanka mentions it, he does feel a little bit hungry.
"Everyone is feasting, but you're not getting any."
Well, Enjin may love food, but he also loves cigarettes as much. And this time, the other wins over the other.
"I'll go get some," Enjin says, flicking the ash off his cig, before he turns to Zanka again. "Now, if you'll exc—"
Only then he realizes that Zanka has been standing there, carrying a metal tray of food.
"I remember," he starts, "someone said that we need to eat up and not pretend that we aren't starving, because that kind of behavior can kill."
Enjin stares at Zanka incredulously.
Zanka doesn't budge, and instead he gives him the look again. Enjin starts to think this look is reserved only for him.
Maybe this is the look that Zanka has when he's particularly fussy, especially about mundane, simple things.
"I'm not going until you eat these," Zanka sets the tray on the nearby table. "I can wait until you're done smoking, but—well, the food won't be as warm and hot as it's supposed to be."
Surprisingly, Zanka takes a seat.
The thought of Zanka collecting the food to be delivered to him is just hilarious that Enjin can't stop himself from laughing.
Zanka remains stoic, almost impassive. But Enjin notices the slight blush on his cheeks that he desperately tries to hide.
To no avail.
Enjin inhales the last of his cigarette before he stubs the butt on the metal railing.
"You're so fussy, you know that?" Enjin grins as he takes a seat across the table. Zanka pushes the tray in his direction.
"Only when you need me to be."
That gets him barking out another laugh, Enjin reaches for the nearest bowl.
"Let's see what you've brought for my needs, then."
Enjin would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the way Zanka flusters even worse at the wink he just gives him.
4.
It all starts with something mundane.
In fact, it starts with something very simple.
He ran out of his cigarettes.
Wait, scratch that, it starts with something awful.
Because what is Enjin supposed to do when he can't have any smoke?
What should he do?
He tried his usual shop for cigarettes, but they didn't have the brand he liked, saying the shipment was delayed for some reason. And he can't even buy other brands, because Enjin is extremely picky about his nicotine.
He may appear as a very laid-back guy, but when it comes to his cigarettes; he's fussier than Zanka.
The name pops up in his head and suddenly inspires Enjin.
Zanka will know how to handle this.
That's how he knocks on Zanka's door at 5 AM.
The occupant of the room had just woken up, trained so well to respond to any kind of disturbance that he just rushed to the door with bed hair, bleary eyes, and a yawn.
The last one gets swallowed back the moment his eyes catch Enjin, he suddenly looks very alert.
"Enjin? What's wrong?"
It's kind of endearing that Zanka assumes something is wrong when the only thing wrong in this world is Enjin running out of his nicotine doses.
Enjin waves his hand. "Nothing, Zanka. All is well."
The face shifts, very briefly, to relief before it transforms into a very serious expression.
Enjin precedes him from talking.
"I may need your help."
And that's how Enjin gets stuck on the mat in Zanka's room, surrounded by the scent of burning incense.
Enjin genuinely hopes he doesn't fall asleep in the middle of everything. The man himself is next to him, sitting cross-legged and looking… no less than ethereal.
The way the light penetrates the room through the curtain. The way the gentle wind caresses the smoke off the incense.
Enjin almost believes he can never do it—how hard it would be, if the incense filling the room actually helps?
With the help of Eishia, everyone will be ready to get into mission by tomorrow.
Enjin hopes he's one of them.
"It's no use if you can't block the noise in your head," Zanka says without opening his eyes. He looks so zen, Enjin wonders how Zanka can settle into such peacefulness.
"Inhale," Zanka continues, proceeding to show Enjin exactly how. "Exhale."
Enjin copies him.
"Now, close your eyes and clear your mind off anything unnecessary. Let the air fill your lungs and just slowly let go."
Enjin tries.
And he fails, because there's something more important that requires his ability to see.
Zanka in meditation mode.
How come Enjin never noticed how long his eyelashes are?
How come Enjin never thought about how perfectly sculpted his face is, from the curve of his nose to the shape of his lips?
How come Enjin never knew that Zanka is beautiful?
The thought surprises him so much that Enjin may have just made an intangibly loud sound.
And yet, he can't look away.
He can't shift his gaze.
"I can feel your eyes on me, Enjin," Zanka doesn't even bother to open his eyes, but Enjin can tell Zanka rolls them behind those eyelids. "Stop staring at me and just do what I've been telling you."
Enjin takes another glance, drinking in the sight of Zanka, and while he won't trade his cigarettes for anything else, maybe it's a good thing that he ran out of them once in a blue moon.
5.
He fucked up.
So bad.
Given his life, Enjin's gotta be specific, but he can just tell that it isn't something simple, something mundane that one can just brush under the rug.
Because this is bigger than it seems.
It's bigger because it affects other people.
Not that many people, but definitely one particular person who now has just settled into the "Let's Ignore Enjin Altogether" segment after he went full-rage on the "Screams And Yells At Enjin For Being Hurt" program.
"You could have died," Zanka gritted his teeth so loudly Enjin wondered if it was painful. "Your wounds, they’re even bigger than my palm, you're bleeding and you still have the audacity to say, you're fucking fine?"
"Zanka, this is not—"
"You're fucking bleeding on my lap, Enjin," his breath got harsher and Enjin felt bad for keep contradicting him, but Zanka always overreacted—
"You've got a huge open wound and you told me that's nothing?"
Enjin winced. "Well—"
"Don't make me haul your ass to Eishia," which sounds like an empty threat, but it really isn't.
Not when Zanka is one of the few people who can do that, taking Enjin whose body is twice, almost thrice, his size. He had confirmation from literally everyone after the Penta incident.
He can't take the warning lightly.
That's how he ends up here, with a bandaged shoulder and over half of his chest, with a direct order from Eishia to rest.
Enjin tries to use some flirtation to charm his way out of this, but the healer merely flusters and chooses to talk with Zanka.
Zanka, who's been fussing over him until he finally goes to the infirmary under his supervision, who keeps himself updated on Enjin's condition, who's always there, who tends to his needs, who asks millions of questions that are unthinkable even to Enjin himself.
When Eishia finally excuses herself, there are only the two of them in the room.
The tension is weird.
Zanka hasn't talked to him ever since his sudden outburst at the HQ garage. He talks miles with Eishia, but he barely utters a single word to Enjin.
Enjin understands his worry, but he also still thinks that Zanka is overreacting.
"You can leave now—" Enjin starts, but Zanka doesn't respond when he climbs onto the infirmary bed next to his, turning his back on him.
Zanka really wants to spend the night here?
He hopes to make conversation, but Zanka goes hard on his silent treatment.
"Suit yourself, then," Enjin mutters, hoping sleep comes easy and hopefully Zanka will just leave him alone.
Which doesn't happen.
Because the moment he opens his eyes, he catches Zanka speaking in hush-hush with none other than Eishia.
Enjin always pictures the healer to be extremely shy, a bit reserved, and definitely prone to stuttering her words.
And here she is, chatting up with Zanka.
Which then makes Enjin realize the topic is about his condition post-battle, the do's and the don'ts.
Enjin decides to chime in, "Who's starting the day with gossiping these days?"
Eishia flusters and immediately goes to him to check up on the bandages. Enjin can't help himself from teasing her, ignoring Zanka standing still at the end of his bed.
"You really are about as shy as Zanka is fussy," he means it to be a mockery, but it only sounds rather fond, which is the opposite of anything Enjin wants it to be.
Eishia stammers some things, but Enjin only partially listens. Zanka's the one who asks for confirmation on what she says. Eishia doesn't seem to expect a string of questions from Zanka and just as before, she slides into chatty mode.
Enjin can't help himself from watching, even after Eishia finally leaves the infirmary. Zanka still hasn't said anything to him.
Which is annoying when Enjin had just witnessed with his own two eyes that Zanka is still very much the Zanka he knows.
Minus the talking.
"If you're so done with me, you can just leave, you know," Enjin fixes the pillows behind his back. "Nobody is forcing you to be here."
Zanka ignores him. The lack of reaction somehow only sets him off.
"As you perfectly know, I'm fine, Zanka," Enjin continues. "But you probably know that already, huh? Considering Eishia's all over you."
That elicits a reaction, albeit minuscule, but it is still something that Enjin has been waiting for.
Anything but silence.
"You could have died," Zanka responds quietly, keeping his back to Enjin. "Eishia told me you're lucky the wound didn't get to vital organs, and that I got my first aid in."
Well, Enjin won't argue with that. Zanka is pretty knowledgeable about those things, maybe it's one of the reasons Eishia is comfortable talking to him.
"It may not look severe, but it could get worse if it's left untreated," Zanka continues. "You could have died."
Only then does Enjin realize the reason Zanka hasn't looked at him while speaking.
With the room that only has them as occupants, it's impossible to disguise the shaky voice.
Enjin has been nothing but an asshole to him.
All Zanka wants to do is to take care of him, to save him.
And Enjin doesn't even see the effect of his behavior on others, specifically on Zanka.
Zanka who spends his time accompanying him, who listens to every explanation from Eishia, who takes notes and practices what he's been told.
Zanka who cares.
Zanka who's always been there.
"Zanka—" Enjin starts, and he can hear Zanka inhale sharply, as if to compose himself.
Enjin knows what to do, he gets off the bed.
"I'm sorry," he stands behind the younger, whose back contracts at the sign of Enjin approaching him. "You didn't have to handle my shit and yet, here you are."
"I'm sorry too," Zanka says instead. "I know I could be overbearing at times, I'll stop doing th—"
Enjin spins him around instantly. One hand perches firmly on Zanka's shoulder.
Zanka looks bewildered by the sudden touch, and Enjin gets to see how awful he actually looks up close.
Heavy eye bags, messy hair.
He also looks like shit.
And Enjin still thinks his concern isn't valid?
And Enjin still thinks that it's ridiculous for him to be like this?
What an asshole he has been, this whole time.
"Don't," Enjin says before he overthinks it. Zanka gives him a frown, which Enjin hopes he can erase soon.
"I like it when you're fussing over me."
The confession flows easier than he thinks.
Enjin's mind wanders to those times when he thought Zanka was being too much while the younger only wanted to take care of him. Enjin isn't used to such attention, to such a level of caring; which of course triggers his reflex to deny it, dismissing it.
Just because he hates to acknowledge it doesn't mean that he doesn't enjoy everything Zanka has given him.
"I like it when you rant about how messy I can be—sometimes, most times," Enjin starts, and suddenly the words come easy. "I like it when you fetch me food, I like it when you tell me to take a nap when I need it, I like it when you teach me how to meditate even though you know I suck at it."
Pink blossoms on Zanka's cheeks, and Enjin can't stop staring.
"And I feel like a bad person when I say this, but," Enjin pauses, looking at the sapphire eyes of Zanka like they contain the secret of the universe. "I like it when you worry yourself to death for me."
The pink deepens, turning into crimson.
And Enjin thinks of something that he has never thought of before, Zanka is beautiful.
Which should be weird, except it isn't.
Which should sound wrong, except it doesn't.
Only natural, only right.
"I'm not used to unconditional affection, I'm not used to being cared for by others, I'm not used to someone who thinks of me to that extent." Enjin sighs, he squeezes the shoulder he has been holding onto before he lets go and rubs the back of his own neck bashfully.
"I would always want you to be fussy all the time, especially when it comes to me."
Zanka looks away, red all over his face.
And Enjin thinks of something that he has never thought of before, Zanka is so cute.
"You're so cute, you know that?"
Which is exactly what he ends up saying, because it's better to spill out everything since he has just bared himself in front of Zanka.
Zanka doesn't budge, but the redness has just crawled to the tip of his ears, transforming them into the same shade.
"Look at me, Zanka," Enjin is not above begging when it comes to his own wants.
Zanka doesn't move.
Well, it isn't like it's his first time to attack Zanka where he's the weakest.
The weakness, being Enjin himself.
Nothing sets Zanka off enough to get him into motion.
Enjin is also not above taking matters into his own hands when it comes to his own wants.
He tips Zanka's chin with his hand, directing the gaze to him.
It all starts with something mundane.
In fact, it starts with something very simple.
His finger shifts to caress the colors on his cheek, deepening them.
Zanka's breath hitches and suddenly Enjin's throat is so dry.
"Enjin?" The name flows quietly off Zanka's lips and Enjin can't take his eyes off them.
Since when is Zanka this distracting?
"Yeah?"
"I actually need to change your bandages, right now."
Enjin blinks. What did he just hear?
+1
It all starts with something mundane.
It's everything that they usually do almost every morning, depending on whether they are assigned a cleaning job or not.
Zanka has been really fussy: making sure everyone gets their supplies, making sure everyone brings their masks, making sure everyone takes care of their vital instruments, and all.
He's been extra finicky with everyone, including Enjin, who just claps his back and says, "Relax, we've heard you"—only for Zanka to show him, ten minutes later, that Enjin literally didn't.
Riyo and Rudo, who happen to be on this mission, don't even escape from the chronicle of finical Zanka.
They both know every mission is a dangerous mission.
And since Zanka isn't assigned with them, he spends a good time preparing for their departure.
Rudo may be slightly bothered by the attention, but Riyo has had enough.
"Yeah, we've heard you, Mom," she emphasizes mockingly, slapping Zanka's hand away from messing with her hair. Zanka frowns, looking like an actual disappointed mother. "Touch my hair again and I'll cut your hand."
Then she glares at Enjin, like it's somehow his fault too, and points at him, "Control your wife!"
Enjin drapes his arm around Zanka's shoulder, looking like he isn't contributing to this whole fiasco, and casually asks, "What is it now, Riyo, about my wife?"
And Zanka blushes, elbowing him hard.
Riyo gives them the look.
All that, then Rudo has to open his mouth and cluelessly chimes in, "What is wife?"
Zanka chokes on his own spit. Riyo pretends to gag.
And Enjin—oh, he's having a field day.
"Rudo," he starts, clearing his throat exaggeratedly, like he's about to give the speech of the century. "A wife is basically someone that cares about you and loves you very, very much."
He flicks the tassel on Zanka's ear. "Ain't that right?"
Zanka attempts to push him off, but Enjin is just like a wall of unbothered muscles.
"I'm usually against doing this in front of the children—" They can all hear Riyo loudly complain, I'm not a child! "—but I couldn't go without having a good luck kiss from my wife."
The hand easily moves past the tassel, tilting Zanka's chin up.
"Enjin, wh—"
Zanka widens his eyes in panic, but he doesn't have time to run away when Enjin leans down and claims the kiss that will always be there for him to take.
The refusal weakens, the push has transformed into a pull.
Riyo gags even louder, "Congrats, but y'all are so gross!"
Rudo lets out a string of confused, "Huh? Huh? Huh?"
It starts fast, and it ends just as fast too.
When Enjin eventually has to pull back, the sight of Zanka's slightly parted mouth almost lures him back in.
Zanka uses the opportunity to push him away.
Still doesn't budge.
"And that, Rudo," Enjin grins, "is called, kissing my wife goodbye.”