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Jabber always hated winter. He didn’t hate winter per se, it was more so the weather and low temperatures, and Jabber always ran cold no matter what he did. Every winter he would have to pack himself in layers upon layers of clothing, which he also hated. It felt suffocating and the extra layers added pressure to his body. He would feel the fibers of the fabric rubbing against his skin with his every move, and it became all he could focus on. He hated it and would rather freeze his ass off than wear a jacket. Though, winter did have a few perks. Those perks mostly aligned with some sort of prank involving snow. And this year Jabber had an extra special target.
He had met Zanka in March. They had gotten paired up for some project in their required math course. Zanka was quite apprehensive towards their partnership. He preferred to work alone rather than rely on someone like Jabber, who had a bit of a reputation for being difficult to work with. Jabber had feigned hurt at this, which was enough to make Zanka stop arguing about the group work. In the end, the project turned out great and they got a perfect score on it. What their professor didn’t know, however, was how many times Zanka had been close to killing the other. It started with small arguments about the structure of their report. This later escalated when Jabber decided to see how far he could push Zanka before getting physical. Not only did he get his answer, he also got a new obsession. It turned out the straight A student Zanka Nijiku had quite a lot of martial arts training hidden behind that calm exterior.
All throughout April and May, Jabber would find new ways to push and pull at Zanka. One particular evening, Jabber had followed him all the way home to his apartment. His empty apartment. Not feeling fully satiated, Jabber invited himself into Zanka’s room to continue his borderline harassment. Inside the apartment, Jabber kept touching things he wasn’t supposed to, so Zanka did the most logical thing, and restrained his hands. Their fight kept escalating until Zanka had Jabber pinned to the ground and Jabber made some crass joke that he would be eternally grateful for making. He ended up being several hours late to his DnD campaign the next day due to Zanka’s bed having the added bonus of a very pissed off and very hot Zanka. Jabber’s hunch of their similarities was proven that night. Whenever Jabber kept pushing and pushing, instead of pushing back, Zanka pulled and continued their game. It was a feeling of exhilaration Jabber hadn’t felt before. He left Zanka’s apartment with a new aspect to his fascination towards Zanka.
It took them about another month to actually get together. After that night, Zanka began avoiding Jabber like the plague. He was just starting to lose hope that he would ever see that side of Zanka again when said man had found him and professed his undying love (Jabber’s own description). Jabber pounced at Zanka’s offer of a relationship. He wouldn’t allow Zanka to change his mind and run while he still could. In the months since then, the two of them have been going steady. Jabber had finally met someone who could let him be himself without judgement. And Zanka saw… something in Jabber.
This brought them all the way to late December, where the days were getting shorter and much, much colder. Jabber hadn’t seen much of Zanka, since he was always cooped up in either his apartment or the library, studying for his exams. As opposed to Zanka, Jabber barely studied for his exams. He didn’t see the point in it. He never had any problems with the course work, so the exam was no problem. With Zanka and friends all studying for their exams, Jabber was left with an obscene amount of time to himself. He didn’t mind too much at first. He kept himself occupied by catching up on shows and working on his DnD campaigns. Though the boredom started to creep in until he was practically pacing his apartment for some sort of stimulation, much to his roommates’ dismay.
That didn’t matter though, because Zanka had fully cleared his schedule so they could go on a date. He had a break of about two weeks between exams. Jabber had kept arguing that he was pushing himself too hard and needed a rest from studying. Zanka eventually relented, knowing he was right.
Jabber had been ready for over an hour, and was patiently counting down the minutes till he could leave the door and meet up with Zanka. They were supposed to watch a movie, a new slasher that looked interesting, and then return to Zanka’s apartment. His roommate had moved out a few months into their relationship, and the ash blond had landed some job as a martial arts instructor which meant he didn’t need to find a new roommate. Since then, most of their time was spent in his apartment.
The clock at long last struck 11:15, signaling Jabber could leave to go see Zanka. What the two didn’t anticipate when they planned their date, and what Jabber saw as he left his building, was the fact that it was snowing. A thin layer of white covered the ground and large snowflakes were falling all around Jabber. He didn’t think much of it and continued his walk to the cinema, enjoying the light crunch from the snow under his boots.
It was quickly apparent that the light hoodie Jabber had thrown on was not enough to keep out the cold. He became hyper aware of his breathing, as he could feel every inhale of the sharp, chilly air. While he kept walking, he could feel the cold slowly seep in through the tips of his fingers, climbing further and further up. The fact that he took a couple wrong turns on his way to the cinema didn’t help. When he finally spotted the building, and Zanka waiting beside it, the chill had nearly settled in his bones and his ears were feeling incredibly numb.
As he approached Zanka, a sinister plan started forming in his head. He made sure to walk in a big circle around him so he wouldn’t be spotted. He slowly got closer and closer until Zanka was within arms reach, to which Jabber stuck his freezing hands around his neck, making sure all his rings made skin contact. The reaction was instantaneous as Zanka jumped away and yelped loud enough to garner a few stares.
“Jabber, what the hell!?” He didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. Jabber couldn’t help the loud cackles he let out at Zanka’s expense. When he turned to look at Jabber, instead of being annoyed, his expression turned to one of mild concern. “D’ya seriously not wear a jacket?”
“I forgot.” Jabber replied with a shrug.
“It’s below freezin’,” he said, reaching up to grab Jabber’s face. His palms were practically burning compared to his icy-cold face. Jabber let his arms loosely wrap around Zanka’s middle. “Get inside before ya catch a cold.”
“Aw, you worried about me?” Zanka gave him a light push towards the door, his face stern.
“I jus’ don’t want to hafta take care of ya on top of ma exams.” He said as he followed Jabber into the cinema.
“Sure, sure.”
As soon as they got inside, Zanka grabbed Jabber’s hands and wouldn’t let go the entire time they were in line at the snack bar. To help you warm up faster, is the excuse he had used and would stand by if anyone asked. They bought some popcorn and a soda and headed to the theater playing their movie. Zanka was insistent about sitting right in the middle of the movie theater, saying it was the perfect distance away from the screen. Not that it mattered much to Jabber, who would have just plopped down next to whatever seat Zanka chose.
The movie was average at best. It was some trash slasher where some girl was getting revenge on her high school bullies. In one particular scene, the girl had one of the jocks bound and gagged. She sat on his lap as she removed his jacket and pulled his shirt down so she could gain access to his collar. The girl then leaned down and took a bite out of the jock’s neck. The jock’s muffled cries carried throughout the theater. Jabber leaned over to whisper into Zanka’s ear, “Can you do that to me?”
Zanka tore his gaze off the screen and remained very still. He eventually grabbed Jabber’s jaw and dragged him closer, their lips just ghosting each other. “Don’t ask for something ya can’t take.”
“C’mon, you know I’d like it.” Jabber tried to close the gap between them, but Zanka just moved back in turn, a playful expression on his face.
“I don’ doubt that, but I don’t want ta go to jail for yer murder.” He let go of Jabber’s face and leaned back in his chair.
“You really think a lil’ bite like dat could kill someone?” As if on cue, the aforementioned thrashing jock slumped against the wall behind him, having succumbed to his wounds. Jabber just sent a sheepish grin towards Zanka. “Hehe.”
“Dumbass,” he said and pulled him into a kiss. The kiss was messy, neither of them being able to suppress their smile, and Jabber was eager for more. So when Zanka pulled back, Jabber had no choice but to keep chasing. He was leaning over the armrest and had nearly fully left his own seat and was invading Zanka’s. Zanka’s hands found their way to his lower back, while his own hands wandered up to tangle in Zanka’s hair and pull him impossibly closer. Zanka bit down on Jabber’s lower lip in retaliation, to which Jabber let out a soft hum of satisfaction.
“Oi, lovebirds, knock it off. I’m trying to watch a movie here.” A man a row back whisper-yelled at them.They both froze. A second later when the initial shock of getting caught wore off, the two of them could do nothing but let out soft giggles.
“Wanna get out of here?” Zanka asked.
“You betcha.” The two lovebirds got up and walked out of the theater. Once out, Zanka put on his big winter coat, while Jabber was left in only his hoodie to brace the cold. Zanka glanced over at him and pulled out a scarf from god knows where. He wrapped it around Jabber so it was sitting snuggly at his neck. He then grabbed his hand so Jabber couldn’t wander off, and headed towards his apartment. This whole sequence of events had Jabber feeling antsy, for what, he wasn’t sure.
The thin layer of snow had only grown since they’d entered the cinema and it was thick enough to swallow up most of Jabber’s boot as he walked through it. To get to Zanka’s apartment they had to go through the park. It was still light out, yet there was no one else there. It was just him and Zanka walking through the white winter wonderland. Zanka’s closeness and grip on his hand helped ward off the cold, though Jabber could still feel it creeping in as they walked. At some point halfway through the park Zanka’s phone started ringing. “I need ta take this, is’ Rudo.”
This left Jabber to his own devices. Without someone to talk to, his brain quickly started firing off in all sorts of directions, trying to latch onto anything that could keep him occupied. Their walk had fully come to a halt as Zanka was trying to explain something over the phone. Jabber glanced around at the pretty layer of snow that covered their surroundings. He crouched down and stuck his hands in the snow, feeling the way it condensed under the pressure of his hand. He glanced over at Zanka, his brain concocting a way to keep him entertained.
Jabber grabbed some snow and prayed it wouldn’t melt before his plan was over. He stood up next to Zanka and mumbled something about being chilly. Zanka, being the nice person he is, opened his jacket to let Jabber get closer and shield him from the cold. Jabber accepted the invitation and wrapped his arms around Zanka’s neck. Carefully, Jabber pulled at his collar at his nape and tossed the fistful of snow down his back. Jabber stayed put, arms still wrapped around Zanka’s neck as he felt him arch his back to try and escape the snow, letting out yet another loud yelp. Jabber moved his hands to his back, pressing his jacket flush against him so he couldn’t escape the snow.
“Rudo, I’m gonna call ya back.” Zanka’s tone was oddly calm in a way Jabber had grown quite accustomed to. This was his favorite part. He jumped back, not wanting the chase to end right away. Zanka’s arm lunged out to try and snatch him back but Jabber was already moving away from him. Jabber’s feet moved faster and faster as this hunt between them ensued. His boots were kicking up snow as he raced through the park, twirling around every now and then to tease his pursuer. On one particular turn what met him was not the adorably annoyed face of the ash blond, but instead a flash of white and an icy feeling on his face. “That’s playing dirty!”
“As if you ‘ave been playin’ fair from the start!” Another snowball was hurled at him, one that Jabber dodged this time. Jabber turned back around to continue running. He scooped up some snow and formed a snowball of his own, making sure the snow is as compact as possible. He looked back, took aim, and hurled it at Zanka as hard as he could. It collided with Zanka’s shoulder instead of his face that he was aiming for. It made a loud thud noise, indicating the density and force of the snowball. “Did ya pack a stone in that one!?”
“Nope, just naturally talented in snowball making, amongst many other things!” Not that Zanka’s idea wasn’t great, he just didn’t have time to find a rock while getting chased. Jabber spotted a large log from a fallen tree. He could hide behind it and mow down Zanka with snowballs if he tried to get closer. Jabber leaped over the log and did a roll fall on the other side before scampering up to sit with his back to the tree. Some snow had snuck its way into his hoodie, letting a chill run down his back. He gathered some snow and started forming more balls of snow and peered over the log, but was met with nothing but white. Jabber continued to form snowballs as he searched for Zanka. He focused his eyes to scan for any type of movement. His pile of snowball ammunition kept growing as he waited for Zanka to make his move. Finally, out of the corner of his eye, Jabber saw him jumping out from behind a tree, armed with snowballs. He charged for the log, hurling snowballs at Jabber’s head as he approached.
Jabber kept giggling as he was hit with snowballs and threw his own back. The adrenaline had pushed away any hint of cold from before, and the chase had filled him with a warm feeling of content. Zanka got closer and closer, and was now on the same side of the log as Jabber. Zanka had already run out of snowballs and was now just tanking everything Jabber was tossing at him. He dove towards Jabber and tackled him to the ground, soft laughs and noises being the only sound from either of them.
Zanka settled himself on top of Jabber, knees squeezing just enough to make sure he couldn't slither out of his grasp. His two hands grabbed Jabber’s wrists and placed them on his chest while he leaned down so they were pinned between the two. The rush of the fight lingered long enough to keep the chill out as Jabber laid in the snow. He was still giggling away as Zanka leaned further in to bite at his cheeks. “Can’t believe ‘m gonna hafta call Rudo back sayin’ I hung up cause ya wanted attention.”
“Your fault for answering while busy.” Zanka continued peppering kisses and bites across his face, each eliciting a small giggle from Jabber. “You can be rougher, y'know."
Instead, Zanka gave him a sweet kiss before pulling away so he was staring down at Jabber. He let go of his wrists, which prompted him to place his hands on Zanka’s hips, soaking up the warmth. Zanka’s hands reached out around Jabber’s face. “Lay still for a sec.”
Jabber was unsure of what was happening, so he just watched as Zanka leaned over him to fiddle with his hair. He could feel his dreadlocks getting moved around on top of the snow. Once satisfied with his work, Zanka sat back up, a sly grin on his lips. Through small chuckles, Zanka pulled out his phone and took a picture of whatever he had just done to Jabber. His gaze stayed on the phone, probably looking at the picture he just took, and continued laughing at something Jabber was wholly unaware of. The smile on Jabber’s lips suddenly felt tight. He pushed himself up towards Zanka, imitating some of his laughs. “Lemme see.”
“Nope, not happenin’.” Was all Zanka said, a bright smile on his face that Jabber was trying his hardest to mimic. Zanka raised his arm to keep his phone out of Jabber’s reach. “This is payback for that lil stunt ya pulled.”
A new type of icy feeling wracked through Jabber’s body, one that was most definitely not caused by the snow. It settled itself in his guts in a way he had never felt before. The atmosphere that had been so warm despite the temperature, was now bone chilling. And yet, Zanka was laughing so peacefully, so why couldn’t he?
“Just let me see the photo.” It was silly, really, the desperation Jabber felt to see some photo. He didn’t understand why it was having this effect on him, but Zanka was laughing at something and he wanted to know what. As if sensing his worry, Zanka leaned down and cupped his cheek with his other hand and placed a sweet kiss to his lips. “Later.”
“Come on, let's get inside.” Just as quickly as he had entered Jabber’s space he also left, taking all the warmth and comfort with him. “Yer freezin’ cold.”
“No.” Call him stubborn, but Jabber needed to see that photo. He needed to be let in on whatever had left such a carefree expression on Zanka’s face. In a last ditch effort to see the photo, another idea formed in his mind.
“Whaddaya mean ‘no’?” Zanka stood before him, his gaze cast down upon Jabber. His mind had gone blank, he was like a deer caught in headlights unable to move. So he did the one thing he was good at, he ran his mouth. “I’m not leaving till you show me the picture!”
“That’s not happenin’.” Zanka forced himself to don a serious expression and tone, but the delight Jabber was locked out from was still there.
“Then I guess you’ll jus’ hafta leave me out here.” Jabber let himself lean back into the icy embrace of the snow. His ears, fingers and toes had gone numb at this point but he needed to see his plan through.
“That is most definitely not happenin’.” Zanka moved with a precision only years of training could build. In one swift motion, Jabber is flipped over and draped across Zanka’s shoulders in a fireman's carry. There was something about the way Zanka could effortlessly manhandle Jabber that drove him crazy. Maybe it was the closeness of it all with those rough yet gentle touches. But when Jabber was picked up and carried into Zanka’s apartment like a sack of potatoes, all thoughts of doubt flew out of his mind. Zanka’s touch had a way of making him forget his worries. Like a blossoming heat in his very core that kept growing any time rough calloused hands found their way to his waist, throat, face, legs, arms, anywhere they could find purchase, really. The photo could wait until later when Zanka’s warm hands weren’t wrapped around him so securely.
It took a lot of maneuvering, and if it wasn’t for Zanka’s fine polished balance, they most definitely would have tumbled at some point. Not that Jabber was helping. Every now and then he would decide to thrash a little in Zanka’s hold, not so much to get free, but more to encourage Zanka to grip onto him harder. Once Zanka at long last wrestled the door to his apartment open, Jabber was less than gracefully dropped from Zanka’s back. He regained his balance and took off his boots and Zanka’s scarf before heading towards Zanka’s unfairly comfortable couch. That was until he felt said man tugging at his sleeve.
“Take it off.” Zanka said, gesturing to Jabber’s hoodie.
“My, my, so forward today.” Jabber was already doing as told but wanted to see Zanka blushing.
“It’s cold and wet, I don’ want it touchin’ my furniture.” Just as expected, there was a light pink dusting his cheeks. Once removed, Zanka took the hoodie and headed towards the bathroom, presumably to hang it to dry. When he returned he was carrying something else, a sweater. He tossed it at Jabber’s head. “Ya can wear this instead.”
The sweater had the subtle scent of Zanka. It was earthy and refreshing, like the relief of rain after a long period of drought. The sweater in itself was pretty simple. It felt like wool and had a nice crisscross design on it. Although it was mostly just grey, a tiny detail caught Jabber’s eye, at the hem there was a tiny line of intertwined blue and purple. Jabber let his hand run along the threads. A nauseating feeling crept through him as he continued staring at the sweater.
“Are ya gunna put it on?” Zanka’s voice snapped him out of it. He looked up at Zanka then back down at the sweater. There was something telling him wearing it was wrong, but he shot the thought down and put on the sweater and joined Zanka on the couch.
The evening passed with them watching some reality TV show that they only really watched to make fun of the cringy couples. They ordered takeout for dinner since neither of them felt like cooking. It had long since gotten dark and the two of them were sprawled on the couch, the soft light of the TV illuminating their figures. Jabber was laying out on top of Zanka with his head resting on said teen’s chest, who was rubbing circles into his back. Jabber was about two seconds from sleep when Zanka lightly pushed to him. “Move, I gotta get up.”
“Hmm, no!” Jabber let his arms slip under Zanka and lock him in a crushing hug. He moved his head up so he was boring his chin into his sternum and flashed him a wide grin. Zanka, however, did not look amused. His eyebrows were furrowed and lips turned down into a light frown, all things that made him look adorable in Jabber’s eyes.
“I mean it,” Zanka gave him another nudge. Jabber just buried his head further into Zanka’s chest. “Get yer pointy chin off ma chest!”
Zanka pushed off the couch and flipped both of them over so he was now pressing Jabber into the couch cushions. They were both giggling as Zanka used his own arms to wrestle Jabber’s off of him and pinned them to the couch. Zanka wore a smug smirk as he leaned down into Jabber’s space and bit at his nose. Jabber loved the little fight before these moments. He loved to get his pulse up and adrenaline running just a tiny bit before indulging in some of the softer things. Such as when Zanka leaned further into Jabber’s space and kissed him oh so sweetly on his lips. Chapped lips, another reminder of the change in weather, met for a moment much too brief for Jabber’s liking. He chased Zanka as he pulled back, only stopping when the restriction of his hands held him back.
“Stay there, I’ll be right back.” Zanka gave him a quick peck before getting up and walking down the hallway. Jabber didn’t think much of it, he probably just needed to go use the bathroom. Jabber did have the courtesy of pausing their show while Zanka was gone. It had barely been a minute by the time Zanka returned. Too little time to be a bathroom break. That should have been Jabber’s first clue telling him something was wrong. The second was the fact that Zanka was actively hiding his hands behind his back as he walked back over to the couch. And the third and final clue was the way Zanka was entirely avoiding eye contact with Jabber. He scooted over on the couch to make room for Zanka.
“Can ya hold out yer hand?” Despite Zanka’s odd behavior and his own judgement, Jabber decided it was probably nothing.
“Why, you holding some snake dat’ll bite me?” Jabber said, wanting to tease Zanka.
“Just do it, please.” Jabber let out a light chuckle and did as requested. What followed was Zanka pulling out a small neatly wrapped present. The wrapping paper was red and had a gold ribbon on it with a little bow.
“What’s this?” Jabber’s gaze flickered between Zanka and the present in his hand. There was a tiny bit of weight to it, but was smaller than Jabber’s palm.
“It’s our six month anniversary, dickwad.” Jabber could just make out the faint blush on Zanka’s cheeks. The words echoed in his head as he just continued staring at Zanka. Without truly thinking, he heard himself start laughing.
“Ya kept track of that?” Jabber’s whole body got warmer and warmer, to a point of discomfort.
“Yeah well, ya don’ have to be such a dick ‘bout it.” Zanka cast his gaze down in embarrassment. “Jus’ open it.”
His palms were sweaty and gross. He carefully removed the ribbon and wrapping paper. As he uncovered the present he saw two keys attached to a keychain. The keychain was a blue dart frog with hints of purple, one of his favorites. He couldn’t stop the high pitched laugh that left his mouth. “Wha…?”
“Ya spend most of yer time here, and we've been together for so long.” Zanka finally looked back up at Jabber. He was still blushing, but his gaze was steady and profound. He was serious. Jabber’s breathing was interrupted by his own chortle. “So I want wakin’ up next to ya to become permanent. An’ I want ta come home to ya at the end of the day.”
It was apparent that Zanka grew more and more agitated for every laugh that escaped Jabber under his breath. “Ya don’ have to say yes, I jus’ want ya to know I want ta take a new step with ya, and that ya mean-”
Zanka droned on and on, and as he did, less and less became comprehensible to Jabber. The pounding, hammering, of blood in his ears drowned out any noise. The once soft sweater was now scratchy and tight. It trapped all heat within him, with nowhere to go but to keep circulating throughout him. He could feel the threads he had run his fingers across moments earlier right at his throat, choking him. He could feel himself breathing, so why was air escaping him? His breathing became rapid and shallow. The scent of Zanka became too much. It was engrained into every part of the apartment, swirling around Jabber with no place to escape. He longed for the fresh relief of the snow and frigid winter air.
The hand he hadn’t realized was shaking dropped the keys Zanka had given him as he ran to the window. His hands fumbled with the handle for an excruciating minute before finally getting the window open. Cold, stinging air filled his lungs, it still wasn’t enough. The sweater was still scratching at his arms and throat, limiting his breathing and boiling him alive. He tore it off and tossed it to the ground, not really caring where it ended up. With the sweater now gone, Jabber at last felt the alleviation of the wintry breeze. He stood there, before the window, staring into the dark abyss of night, and slowly calmed down. Only once he could no longer feel the rapid beat of his heart, nor the burning in his every fiber, did he notice Zanka stood next to him. He had his arms crossed, and the slight shiver told Jabber it wasn’t out of contempt. He looked disturbed, but also concerned and worried.
“Jabber…” Zanka tried. He reached out to touch his shoulder. Jabber flinched away from the freezing touch of his icy fingers. “We don’ have ta talk ‘bout it now, or ever.”
Jabber kept his eyes on Zanka’s hand, it was left floating in the empty space between them. That last word Zanka said bothered him. This idea of finality, and deciding on it in the moment, felt so wrong. Jabber didn’t know what he wanted, so he decided to focus on how he felt. When with Zanka, he felt a rush of warmth that lingered in a way no fight ever had. As the hand slowly started to retract, Jabber realized something – Zanka, his boyfriend, was the person standing in front of him. Not some fling, one night stand, or friend, but someone he had promised a commitment to. A commitment that had brought more joy into Jabber’s life than he ever thought possible, and it was crumbling right in front of him. The door was closing right in front of Jabber’s eyes, and he needed to shove it open before it was bolted shut.
Jabber grabbed the outstretched hand. He had to say something, something that would show Zanka he also wanted this, but he couldn’t. His throat felt tight and itchy. All he could do was stare, eyes big and pleading, hoping it was enough to convey the words he couldn’t speak. Zanka regarded him. Jabber couldn’t deny the vague hint of hurt in Zanka’s eyes. He had fucked up, and now was unable to say anything to fix it. Zanka, the saint he was, didn’t say anything, but instead pulled Jabber into a hug. His arms gripped onto Jabber firmly, not enough to feel crushing, but just enough that Jabber felt grounded. They stayed there, holding onto each other, until the chilly air from the window got too much, making them shiver.
Zanka released his hold on Jabber so he could close the window. He just stood still in the same spot as he watched his boyfriend pick up the sweater he had tossed. Jabber opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated for a moment before finding his voice again. “You really want me to move in with you?”
“‘Course.” His response was immediate and so matter-of-factly. Once again, Jabber was left speechless, though this time it wasn’t due to a discomfort in his throat; Zanka had simply left him dumbstruck. His mouth was slightly agape as he tried to think of something to say in between shivers. Zanka let out a chuckle. “Ya look ridiculous.”
Those three words might as well have been the holy grail to Jabber. If Jabber were anyone else he might be offended at Zanka’s choice of words in his moment of vulnerability, but he wasn’t. To Jabber those words were perfect, an indication of what Zanka and his relationship was, and what had first drawn him to Zanka. The way he could not just take all of the shit Jabber threw at him but also give it back just the same.
Zanka tossed the sweater back to Jabber again, which was what he needed to be snapped out of his trance once more. He put the sweater back on, marched over to the couch, grabbed the keys, and shoved them in his pocket. His actions had been determined and precise, but he couldn’t help the heat that rose to his cheeks. Moving in together was a type of intimacy and normalcy Jabber never thought he would experience. It seemed too sweet and innocuous, yet the more he thought about it, the more he realized he wanted to experience that with Zanka. When he eventually looked up at him, Jabber was relieved to see the same blush on his boyfriend’s face. “But this means I get to add my own decorations.”
“Oh no.” The face he made was one of absolute horror. It tore the first real laugh of the evening out of Jabber, and he couldn’t help as he continued to tease his boyfriend.
“Yeah, yeah, a hot pink rug, some neon green pillows!” Jabber made grand gestures around the room to highlight where he would put his ‘personal touches’. He didn’t actually mind Zanka’s decorations, he just wanted to get a rile out of him. And that he did - Zanka practically ran towards Jabber, jumping over the coffee table in his rush, hands immediately going for the keys Jabber had just put in his pocket.
“I take it back, ya can live with yer damn roommates.” The words could have been harsh had it not been for the laugh that laced his words. Jabber grabbed the hand digging for his pocket and intertwined their fingers.
“How 'bout a cobra skeleton above the bed?” His other arm snaked its way around Zanka’s middle, locking him in a deadly dance. Without hesitation, Zanka’s hand came up to rest on his shoulder, and Jabber started to sway them to a made up beat. “I think some chains on the wall would be real classy.”
“I think–” all of Zanka’s force gathered in the hand on his shoulder as he pushed Jabber on his ass. “–ya should shut that pretty mouth.”
Zanka’s shove was a little reminder that life together with him would never be fully sweet and innocuous, and Jabber loved it. Still, he couldn’t give in that easily. “You think I have a pretty mouth?”
“Lots of pretty things with ya,” he said as settled himself above Jabber. “Yer eyes–” he placed a kiss at the corner of Jabber’s eye, “–yer hair–” a hand ran over his hair, “–yer hands…” The hand running across his hair ended on top of Jabber’s hand, caressing it before bringing it to his mouth for a kiss and a bite. Jabber let out a strangled noise, the praise was getting to him more than he thought it would. He looked off to the side, a hand coming up to cover his face.
He felt a shift above him as Zanka moved in closer. He didn’t look at Zanka, so when a sharp pain started blossoming from his neck, he was slightly startled. Jabber kept his face to the side, allowing Zanka free access to mark him as he pleased. His teeth and lips danced around the skin, piercing and pressing in all the ways Jabber found intoxicating. Once Zanka had decided he was done marking up his neck, Jabber looked up at him. His eyes were lidded and mouth slightly open. Blood, Jabber’s blood, was clinging to his teeth and the corners of his mouth. The view was wretched and tantalizing and so, so tempting. Good thing Jabber wasn’t known for his self-control.
Jabber clutched Zanka’s hair and pulled him closer while leaning in himself, letting their mouths meet in the middle for a brutal kiss. He licked his way into Zanka’s mouth and could taste the metallic tinge of his own blood on his boyfriend’s teeth. Without breaking their kiss, Zanka pushed him back down to lie flat on the floor. Zanka grabbed at his waist hard enough to make him jump. He then took the opportunity to sneak his arm under and around Jabber’s waist and lifted him up slightly, so he was forced to arch up into Zanka. Jabber moaned into their kiss. The feeling of being manhandled into the floor was like heaven to Jabber.
Just as Jabber was starting to feel delirious from a lack of breath, Zanka pulled back. Their faces stayed close enough that Jabber could feel Zanka’s breath on his lips while they both panted for breath. Their eyes were glued to each other, Jabber didn’t dare blink in fear it would all disappear once he opened his eyes again. Zanka’s deep blue eyes were like a bottomless sea that Jabber wouldn’t mind drowning in, and here in the faint light of Zanka’s - no, their - apartment, Jabber could have sworn they were glowing. In the end it was Zanka who finally moved. He placed a chaste kiss on Jabber's cheek before pulling back again. “Le's go ta bed.”
Jabber could feel a soft smile involuntarily tugging at his lips as he nodded in agreement. Rather than getting off of Jabber, Zanka hoisted him up into his lap. Then he stood up with Jabber still in his arms and began carrying him towards the bedroom. Jabber’s stomach did a little flip at Zanka’s display of strength. He couldn’t help himself from wrapping both arms around Zanka’s neck and his legs around his waist. He let out soft giggles all the way to the bed, where he was half tossed, half laid on the mattress.
As Jabber was placed on the mattress, he felt a sharp sting in his hip. His hands went into his pocket and procured the keys Zanka had given him. Seeing it again was like a recollection of the whole evening. Jabber sat back up and let his fingers run over the intricacies of the keys. He felt the bed dip as Zanka placed himself next to him and placed his head on Jabber's shoulder.
“That one’s ta get in the buildin’ and that’s for the front door and storage room.” He explained, pointing to the respective keys. Looking at the keys and keychain now, Jabber felt just a little bit silly. He had spent the majority of his year finding new and different ways to keep Zanka close, most of which were something others might define as harassment. A piece of Jabber just hadn’t realized he had really found someone that liked every part of him, even the cruel and vicious parts that Jabber found were so much easier to display and accept than anything close to love.
“D’ya like the keychain?” He felt Zanka’s hand coming to rest on his waist. “I rem’ber ya said ya liked the colors o’ dat one.”
“They don’t produce their toxin themselves, but develop it from their diet.” Jabber mindlessly began quietly reciting facts he knew about the frog. “The poison they use is called pumiliotoxins, or PTXs for short. It’s a neurotoxin that can disrupt neural signaling, and interferes with the muscle contraction of the heart and skeletal muscles, which can cause numbness, paralysis, convulsions, and such. The toes on this one aren’t that big, which means it’s a fema- “
Jabber’s rambling was interrupted by the sound of Zanka yawning. He glanced over and saw Zanka’s eyes barely open, and he was leaning most of his weight on Jabber. “Oh sorry, am I boring you?”
“No, keep talkin’, ‘m listenin’.” He said groggily, nuzzling further into Jabber’s neck.
“No you ain’t.” Jabber said while poking at Zanka’s cheek. His brows furrowed and he made a low grumbling noise of discontent. “You’re literally half asleep!”
“Can ya blame me?” Zanka tried to bite the finger poking his cheek. “Is’ the middle o’ the night, and dat whole ordeal took all da energy outta me.”
Jabber carefully placed the keys on the bedside table. He calmly looked back at Zanka before he used all of his weight to tackle Zanka down onto the bed. Jabber was practically baring his fangs, ready to chomp down on Zanka. They were a mess of tangled limbs as Zanka profusely tried to shove Jabber’s face away. They were both giggling the entire time. Zanka let his fingers get too close to Jabber’s mouth, which Jabber took the opportunity to bite down on.
“Ow!” Jabber just licked down Zanka’s palm to further agitate him. “Yer so weird!”
Zanka switched tactics and threw Jabber off him so he landed next to him on the bed. They laid there next to each other, their laughter slowly wearing off. Jabber was staring up at the ceiling. He was in a state of bliss he found only really came from his spouts with Zanka. He saw movement out the corner of his eye. Zanka had turned to lay on his side, his eyes soft and kind, just observing Jabber. Jabber found himself drawn to the other, his body aching for a physical connection between them. He rolled over and slotted himself in the crook of Zanka’s neck, one of his arms thrown over Zanka’s middle. Zanka pulled the covers over them and reciprocated the hold. In the comfort of their now shared bedroom, Jabber had one of the best sleeps of his life.
Jabber felt a warm tingle across his face. He cracked open an eye to see what had woken him up. The first light of the morning was tearing its way through the room, indicating they had forgotten to close the blinds before falling asleep. Jabber had the unfortunate habit of not being able to fall asleep after waking up, whereas Zanka would go early to bed and sleep in if his schedule permitted it.
He rolled over to grab his phone to check the time, not missing the soft noise of displeasure from Zanka at him pulling away. Zanka looked adorably stupid with his relaxed features and slack jaw. Jabber couldn’t quite tear his gaze away so he just grabbed whatever phone was closest, which ended up being Zanka’s. When he turned over the phone to check the time he stopped dead in his tracks. The phone lit up, showing a picture of himself staring back at him. It was the picture Zanka had taken of him in the snow.
In the picture Jabber was laid on the bright white snow, his hair a stark contrast. Zanka had moved some of his dreads around so they were forming three hearts around his head. He had a light flush on his ears, cheeks, and nose from the cold. His lips were pulled up in a wobbly smile, his canines just on display. The scarf Zanka had wrapped around him was just peeking into frame, and Jabber could still feel the way it had blocked out the chill and kept him warm. He thought back to the utter glee the photo had caused in his boyfriend. And just then, Jabber had the fleeting thought that maybe it wasn’t so bad to be loved.