Chapter Text
Potential.
Zanka lets out a scoff as he sends a pile of rubble and that green, bubbling substance towards Jabber. He catches a glimpse of that sick smirk plastered on the raider's face before it disappeared in the rubble.
'Potential, my ass.'
Why does the universe always play with him? Every single time, Zanka is always met with the same unfortunate fate of fighting Jabber.
He despised the Raiders, specifically this one. Zanka hates the way Jabber felt the need to tease him every chance they met. He recalled the first time he encountered Jabber– the moment too hard to erase. The way the Raider gently settled his body to the ground after striking him with poison, or the way Jabber's rough hand softly stroked his cheek before running off to catch up to Rudo and the supporters.
The Cleaner was laying on the floor, struggling to move his body. There was a slight panic in his chest as the Raider watched him carefully, his laughter becoming louder as he approached.
"You're quite a cute one, aren't ya?" The words caught him off guard.
Zanka breath hitched as Jabber took the bold move his head closer, their eyes immediately locking. Their nose slightly hovering against one another.
Jabber seemed delighted from the glare he received from the Cleaner. He sighed, "I am a bit disappointed though… Did you really not sense me behind you? You did it so casually with those two other Raiders over there…"
"S-Shut the hell up," Zanka spat.
"Still going at it, huh, Mr. Bad Attitude?" Jabber hummed at the recollection of names and remarks the young male said at him during their fight. "You are a pretty good fighter though… Were you holding back on me?"
Zanka wanted nothing more but to beat this man to a pulp. He tried to ignore the way his face was heated up– obviously from the poison, not the compliments.
"For a Cleaner," Jabber stroked his cheek. "You're good-looking. Just my type, so I guess you get a free pass.. but…"
A whisper to his ear, "Be better next time, yeah?"
Zanka shivered and wiped his cheek as if that touch was still there. Ever since that day, Jabber grew an addiction towards this certain Cleaner, believing that Zanka is holding back his true potential.
He wasn't holding anything back, at least, not what he's aware of. Zanka shakes his head to get rid of that memory and focus on the task at hand, ignoring the subtle heat at the tip of his ears.
'How can a mediocre person like myself possibly defeat him?'
Thinking of all the Cleaners, Enjin would win in a heartbeat. Riyo was a better opponent than him. She would have no trouble defeating him. Hell, as much as he hated to admit, Rudo would have a better chance of defeating Jabber.
All Zanka had was a stick for a weapon, not natural blessed talent.
Yet… Zanka was glad it was him against that maniac. And he wasn't saying this because he enjoyed going up against Jabber. All the damage would be inflicted on him rather than his teammates.
Better him dead than his team, right? Zanka believed the team wouldn't falter if he was gone.
Speaking of dead, Zanka was left confused that Jabber wasn't getting out of the rubble. 'There's no way that bastard is dead,' He muttered.
Seconds passed by and Jabber was still not up. "There's no way that fool is dead," He muttered, cautiously approaching the damage he caused. "A simple attack like that isn't enough to get rid of a freak like him."
He'd seen Jabber take on heavier damage than this. "I know yer not dead!" Zanka yelled, trying to peek underneath the rubble.
And he was right.
Laughter echoed underneath the rubble, followed by Jabber throwing the rubble off of him. Startled, Zanka took a step back and raised his vital instrument in defense.
"Shit, Zanka, you really know where to hit the spot!"
'Yer saying everything before… wasn't him going all-out?!' Zanka cursed to himself, clenching onto his Lovely Assistaff.
"Stop being a weirdo," Zanka said. "You really are a freak."
"But you like it, don't you?" Jabber responded. "It's written all over your face. You're so red right now."
His face wasn't red, right? Zanka hesitated, but raised a hand to his face to feel his temperature. "Fuck.." Is all he could say. His face really was heating up.
"I knew you were holding back on me this whole time!"
He didn't, Zanka wanted to scream. There's nothing for him to hold back because he was already going all-out!
"Zanka… you're free to go all-out too. You got another level right? There's no way swinging that stick around is all you do, right?!" His voice got louder as he spoke, being unable to hold his excitement at finally finding an opponent worth fighting. "C'mon man, you have to show me what you do!"
It felt like slow motion as Jabber launched the first attack.
Zanka mentally prepared himself for what's to come next, running out of ideas on how to succeed in this battle. He found himself on the defense, which Jabber also took advantage of.
The Cleaner struggled to keep at the Raider's pace. The fog building up wasn't helping either. It made it hard to sense which direction Jabber was coming from.
Minutes go by and Zanka is eventually pinned to the ground as Jabber launches his Makira right at him. By some miracle, Zanka catches the claw with his teeth and– gosh , it was a sight for Jabber to admire.
Jabber couldn't help but lick his lips at the sight, causing that blush to appear on Zanka again. "It's such a shame you're a Cleaner–"
Lovely Assistaff crashed into his side, followed by a nasty punch that sent him flying across the area. Jabber groaned and held his side, "Fuck, you broke my ribs and then punched me! You fucking sadist!"
"Shut up," Zanka called out. "You fucking love it, don't you?"
Jabber's smirk was enough of an answer.
Zanka launched his own attacks, but… no matter how hard he tried… Zanka lost in the end, meeting the inevitable fate of getting a scratch on his leg. He falls to the ground and clenches his leg, already feeling the effect come in.
Jabber's shoulders relaxed and he approached the fallen figure. "You're going to be in a whole different world soon," He said.
He crouched down and grabbed one of Zanka's hands. "Let g-go. Yer fucking bastard," Zanka choked out. He watched as his palm rested against Jabber's.
"Holy shit, your hands are tiny!" Jabber exclaimed. "Those hands managed to break my ribs? Geez!"
"I-I'm going to fucking kill.." No, Zanka can't go down like this. Not when this fucktard is talking like he's having a normal conversation with him.
"Hm?" Jabber intertwined their hands. "What was that? I couldn't hear you–"
With any amount of strength left, Zanka pounced the other onto the ground, pinning Jabber's hands above his head. "Yer a fucking bitch!" Zanka slurred out. "I swear–"
A pair of hands now resting on his waist makes him silent. "Fuck, I love how you're able to adapt to my poison so quickly!"
Zanka peeked down, his eyes widening at the position they were in right now. This… was highly inappropriate. How did things escalate to this? Enjin would scream his head off and kill Jabber if he were to see them.
Yet…
Jabber's hands are bigger than mine.. and he's holding me so tightly by the waist, Zanka thinks it might leave a bruise.
His train of thoughts are interrupted when Jabbar wipes the drool rolling down his mouth. Zanka furiously blushes at the sight of Jabber licking it with his tongue. "You freak-"
Jabber flips them over. "What can I say? The sight of you like this is so fucking hot," He grinned.
"It's a shame this battle is over though," Jabber added, noticing how drowsy Zanka was getting.
"N-No," Zanka struggles to form his sentence. "I'll… you.. I will.."
The glow in the cleaner's eyes faded into that dull blue. A wave of disappointment filled Jabber's chest.
He sighed, playing around with Zanka's hair. "How sad.. I wanted to play with you more."