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To put it lightly, Zanka was having a shit day.
First, his parents dumped a last minute family dinner on him for “family bonding,” whatever that meant. Which, that's a whole new can of worms that should not be fucking opened. Second, his roommate. Jabber Wonger.
Jabber had this condition of sorts where he could function at a higher level than a human being, or something. He was also a raging insomniac. Third and fucking finally, tomorrow was Christmas. Zanka hated Christmas; His family never did the whole gift giving thing. They would take photos, look like a happy family, and then go about regular life. Christmas was never special.
For some reason, Jabber loved to keep Zanka awake at night by blasting his favorite loud metal music at the ass crack of dawn right before a lecture. Zanka would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the music at a different hour of the day.
But unfortunately, Jabber hated him. Not literally, but Zanka was convinced Jabber had it out for him. Zanka had a full schedule minus athletics and he can't function without smoking weed at least once a day or chugging four Red Bulls and a coffee.
But Jabber had double the schedule Zanka did with athletics. Zanka didn’t know how he did it. Jabber had time to go to parties, go home with people at night, go to his lectures, do homework, participate in sports, and still speak at volumes that should be illegal.
Zanka didn't hate Jabber, though. They were best friends, roommates, and they got along perfectly… sometimes. But Zanka wouldn't have it any other way.
Now, Zanka has had a small, little, barely there, fat crush on Jabber for about four years. Since their senior year of high school.
He didn't understand why he liked Jabber. He may have mediocre at best (absolutely stunning) style and a dumb looking (gorgeous) face but like, he didn't like him that much. He was loud.
That led into Zanka's current dilemma.
He had the worst fucking migraine ever. It felt like someone stuck a nail into his head and someone was hitting it at full force into his brain wrinkles. Ew. That's a thought.
His patience was running so thin it was almost the size of a piece of thread. One more little thing and he was going to lose it. All he wanted was to go the fuck home, take more ibuprofen than was probably healthy, shut the blinds, and try to sleep on the cold leather couch.
Since it was the middle of winter, it was cold as shit and the air was burning his nostrils. It had snowed outside the morning earlier, so he was staring at a blanket of white, which made his migraine worse.
So fucking bright.
When he got home, he shoved the key into the lock and twisted that shit like it personally offended him. His head was still throbbing and it hurt to keep his eyes opened.
He walked in and was met with… nothing. Silence. Darkness.
He stood there for a few beats before he stepped inside, met with more quiet. He headed out a sigh and deflated where he stood. He quickly started stripping off his many layers, starting with his shoes. Once they were kicked off, he walked into his room and peeled his giant jacket off and laid it over the corner of his closet door. Next was his jeans and t-shirt, he took them off and threw himself on his bed, not bothering to put any pajamas on or even get under the covers.
His last thought before he was whisked away into a deep sleep was: I wonder what Jabber is doing for Christmas.
Zanka is rudely awoken by a loud knock on his door that rings through his ears along with a booming voice calling for him. “Zan-Zan!”
“Christ, I'm up, I'm up,” he grumbled.
He had to squint when he opened up his eyes because the light that shone through his window was blinding and his headache had not gotten better. On top of that, he was fucking freezing.
He opened his door a crack just to be met with a smiling Jabber. Damn, he's beautiful.
“What’cha want?”
Jabber just perked up more. “Hey Zan-Zan! I got your favorite,” he held up Zanka’s favorite soup. “Tomato! And I bought stuff to make grilled cheese as well.”
That brought Zanka halfway to tears. Grilled cheese sounded so fucking delicious.
“Okay, I'm not decent, gimme a sec.” He shut his door and quickly got dressed.
He stepped into the kitchen where Jabber was already heating up the pan and splitting the cheese. Jabber looked so domestic like this. Making grilled cheese with the midday sun shining off of the snow and into their tiny apartment. His back muscles flexed slightly when he used the spatula to flip the sandwich. His locs were tied into a messy bun, and he was wearing a tank top that did him far too many favors. He didn't know how Jabber wasn’t freezing his ass off. Zanka was shivering.
“What’cha lookin’ at Zan-Zan?”
Ah, shit.
“The grilled cheese,” he managed to cough out. “It looks good.”
Based on Jabber’s smug look and the feeling of his face being a million degrees hotter than the rest of his body, he was caught. Before he could open his mouth to defend himself, he let out a series of very painful sneezes along with a full body shiver.
Jabber quickly slid the first grilled cheese onto a plate then walked over to Zanka and put the back of his hand up to Zanka’s forehead.
“Zan-Zan, your face is all red and you’re burning up. Do you have a fever?”
Zanka sneezed again. “No.”
Jabber seemed to be in thought for what felt like an hour before he spoke up. “Zanka. When I woke you up, you said you weren’t decent. Did you seriously sleep with no clothes knowing damn well it’s below freezing outside?”
Jabber using Zanka’s name in such a tone shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was. This was not good. Jabber was just worried about him and all he could think about was those strong arms manhandling him. Fuck his libido. God damnit.
Zanka gave a small, “whoops?”
Jabber let out a very loud sigh and went back to the stove. “Are you going to your parent's house for Christmas?” He asked.
The question confused Zanka. Did he mean like, to spend time with them? Hard no. He and his family had a very strained relationship and he did not want to pretend to like them, not even for a holiday such as Christmas.
Jabber looked over his shoulder when there was no answer. “Well?”
Zanka's gaze snapped up. “Oh, no. I don't want to spend time with them, they aren't really the gift-giving type. They just dress us up and make us take photos. It's kinda boring.” Shit, he was rambling because Jabber was still staring into his soul.
Jabber turned back around. “Okay, well you know I don't have any family, so do you want to spend it together?” Zanka's silence spurred him on. “N-not if you don't want to. It's just an idea. I'm sure you have friends that you'd rather spend it with. Like Riyo, you know, you guys are a lot closer than we-”
“I'd love to,” Zanka cut him off.
Jabber sucked in a long breath, relieved. “Oh.” He let out a little chuckle. “Good.”
They went back and forth for a while discussing Christmas plans and what they wanted to do. Due to Zanka not feeling very well, they decided to stay home for the day and watch movies, which was definitely for the best.
—
Jabber got up bright and early the next morning to go to the shops that were actually open on christmas and picked out a small gift for Zanka. Something meaningful. Something Zanka will see and immediately fall in love. With me or the present I don't care. Well I do, but whatever. He came across a pair of beautiful blue tassel earrings. They matched Zanka's eyes perfectly. Not that he memorized the exact hue of his eyes or anything…
He grabbed a gift bag and immediately walked up to the cashier and had it rung up. It didn't matter the price. Zanka deserved something nice.
“Would you like me to wrap this?”
“Yes, please.”
Jabber tapped his foot, eager to get home to see Zanka and make sure he was okay. He was zoning out into oblivion when he felt a buzzing in his pocket. He pulled it out to see that Zanka was calling him. He quickly answered with a: “Hey, Zan-Zan!”
A tired voice responded. “Where'd you go Jay-Jay? Woke up and you were gone.”
Jay-Jay.
“I'll be home soon. I just ran out to grab something,” he replied, trying to keep his voice at a normal level and not one of a school girl with a crush.
“Okay then,” Zanka mumbled. His voice sounded far away, like he was about to fall asleep. It would be endearing if Zanka wasn't sick. He quietly thanked the cashier halfway out the door and stepped out onto the cold pavement.
“Zan-Zan? You okay?”
“‘M tired.”
“I'll be home in a few minutes, just wait for me.”
—
Zanka sat on the couch bundled up in blankets with a box of tissues while staring at the wall waiting for Jabber to get back. He didn't have the energy to turn the tv on or go on his phone. It felt his sinuses were at war with each other and he just wanted to sleep, but he promised Jabber that he would spend time with him today and he can not let him down. The only time he actually picked up his phone was to call Jabber and ask him where he had gone.
He was on the verge of falling asleep again when he heard the front door open and large boots stomp on the wooden floor.
“Jabber?”
Jabber turned the corner and lit up. Zanka noticed that he had a small gift bag in his hand.
“Hey Zan-Zan! How’re you feeling?” Jabber said as he threw his shoes off.
“Tired. What's that?” Zanka pointed at the small gift bag.
Jabber looked down at his hand and walked over to Zanka. He sat down with one leg up and rested his head in his hand with his elbow propped up on the back of the couch, faced toward Zanka. He placed the gift in his hand and said, “Merry Christmas, Zanka,” with a small smile.
Zanka sat there, staring at the gift. He looked up at Jabber, and down back at the gift. “Jabber…”
“Look, Zanka,” he leaned in. “I know how you are about presents, and I'm not sure why. I won't pry. But I wanted to get you something even if it's small. It's Christmas,” he said with such a casualness that made Zanka feel vulnerable.
Zanka let out an unidentifiable noise. He didn't not appreciate the gift. He was just happy that Jabber thought of him. He didn't really know how to accept gifts. When he became friends with Riyo, she got him small gifts over the years, but this was nothing like Jabber thinking of him. Being in love was such a foreign concept to Zanka, and he was terrified. Terrified of fucking it up. But he had to know. Had to know if Jabber felt the same love that he did. It was eating him up inside.
“I uh… I got you something too actually,” he said.
Jabber's eyebrows rose in surprise. Zanka hoped it was a pleasant one. He didn't get the chance to ask before he abruptly stood up with the gift still in hand and used the other to lead Jabber into his room where he put the gift. He sat Jabber down on his bed along with his own gift bag and rummaged through his dresser until he found a small wooden box. He walked back over to Jabber and sat knee-to-knee, thigh-to-thigh.
He handed Jabber the wooden box and nodded toward it.
Jabber shook his head. “Yours first,” he said.
Zanka picked up his gift and started to unwrap the tissue paper. In it was a pair of blue tassel earrings. The same color of his eyes. He held them up to the light to see how the golden thread woven into them glimmered. He put them down and looked back at Jabber, only to find that Jabber was already looking at him.
Zanka smiled. “Thank you Jay-Jay. I love them.” He unclipped the earrings from their card and put them into his earlobes. When he finished clipping the last one, he looked up at Jabber.
“How do I look?”
Jabber seemed stunned for a moment too long and Zanka started to feel insecure. Does it look bad? Is this the part where I move out and never contact him again? Lord no I don't want-
“You look beautiful.”
“T-Thank you.” said Zanka as his face turned red as a tomato and he averted his eyes from Jabber in a last ditch effort to stay composed.
When he managed to compose himself, he turned back to Jabber and asked him to open his gift. Jabber opened the box, and went quiet. Zanka thought he might have done something wrong. He even got them sized correctly. He definitely didn't measure each one of his fingers when he was asleep… Who would do that? Not Zanka.
Jabber looked at Zanka in silence for a long while. He seemed as though he was lost in thought. He failed to realize until then that their faces were less than a foot away.
Zanka spoke up after a while. “Uhh… Are you going to put them o-”
He was cut off by Jabber rushing forward and quite literally shutting him up. With his mouth. Holy shit, he was kissing Zanka. Fuck, It felt great, but Zanka was sick. What the fuck is he thinking? He's going to get sick.
Zanka abruptly pushed him away and Jabber seemed to notice that he had a less-than-pleased look on his face.
“Shit, Zanka, I'm so sorry. That was wrong. I should've asked, please don't be mad,” he said. He started to get up, rings left behind. Before he could leave, Zanka grabbed his hand.
“Wait! Please don't go,” Zanka said desperately.
Jabber turned around, Zanka's hand still in his. “Okay,” he sighed. “Okay.” He walked back to the bed and sat down. This time he put a bit more distance between them. That broke Zanka's heart. He thinks he did something wrong. Shit.
Jabber was still looking down at his lap.
“Jabber?” He shook their conjoined hands in an attempt to get him to look at Zanka. It didn't work. All Jabber gave in return was a hum in acknowledgement. “Will you please look at me?”
Jabber's gaze slowly moved up as if he was waiting for Zanka to yell at him or something.
Zanka softened his gaze. “I'm not mad that you kissed me, Jay-Jay.”
Jabber let out a breath of relief when he heard those words. Zanka could feel Jabber's palms start to sweat when he realized that Zanka was, in fact, pissed.
“But you're still mad?” he asked nervously.
Zanka squeezed his hand hard, earning a yelp from Jabber. “Yes, actually. I'm sick, and you decided to kiss me.”
Jabber smiled and brushed a stray piece of hair out of Zanka's face. “Oh Zan-Zan, I don't care.”
Zanka moved the box of rings further away from Jabber and made a quick effort to straddle him and wrap his arms around his neck.
“Oh yeah?” Zanka leaned in until they were a hairsbreadth away. Jabber relaxed into Zanka's hold and Jabber’s hands snaked up his sides.
“Yeah,” he replied breathlessly.
All resolve for Jabber's health launched itself out the window and into the cold snow outside when Zanka kissed him. Actually kissed him. Jabber was so warm compared to the cold that nipped at his skin. Every touch felt like he was on fire, and he could burn to ashes in it.
Jabber bit Zanka's lip which made him gasp, and Jabber slipped his tongue into his mouth. Kissing him felt like a losing game of tug of war, entangled tongues and bruised lips. Zanka never wanted it to end. He forgot that Jabber was batshit crazy because at some point he felt the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. Most likely from Jabber biting his bottom lip like a rabid dog.
He pulled away to catch his breath and push Jabber down onto the mattress before diving back in at a different angle to deepen the kiss. Zanka placed both of his hands on each side of Jabber's face in an attempt to move them impossibly closer. Jabber's hands roamed all over his body, under his shirt, down his thighs, and into his hair. He had always fantasized about Jabber touching him like that, but now that it was actually happening, Zanka felt like he was dreaming. And he never wanted to wake up.
Jabber pulled away and choked out a “Zanka.”
Hearing Zanka's name fall from Jabber's lips really did a number on him. I might have to ask him to only call me by my nickname, or this is going to become a serious problem.
Zanka put a small distance between them and grabbed the box of rings and beckoned for Jabber's hand. The rings were in order in the small black velvet casing. He took the rings—which were silver with a red gem on top of each one—and carefully put them on Jabber's fingers, one by one. Jabber didn't even look at the rings he was wearing. Zanka put Jabber's hand up next to his eyes to compare the colors.
Zanka gave a small smile. “They're perfect.”
“Perfect?” Jabber asked.
“I ordered them to specifically match your eyes. Have you noticed that they fit each finger perfectly?”
Jabber finally looked at his hands. He flexed his fingers a couple times to see if the sizing was correct, it was.
“They're beautiful. I love them, thank you,” Jabber said. He took a closer look and furrowed his brow. “Zan-Zan… How did you know my ring size?”
Ah, shit. “Lucky guess?” he shrugged.
Jabber raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure. You probably measured my fingers in my sleep.”
Zanka immediately got defensive. “I did not!”
Jabber gaped at his defensiveness. “You totally did!” he laughed.
“Did not!”
Jabber snorted. “Yeah, right. What else do you do while I'm asleep? You perv.”
It was Zanka's turn to gape at Jabber. “Nothing! I don't do anything to you while you're asleep!”
Jabber laughed at Zanka's embarrassment. “Oh, okay.” When Zanka sighed and nodded, Jabber added: “So you just stare at me then?” Zanka responded by smacking Jabber across the face with a pillow.
—
“I really like you, Zanka,” Jabber said as they were laying in Zanka's bed together.
Zanka huffed out a laugh, “I figured as much.” He squeaked out a "Hey!” when Jabber poked his side, which turned into a tickle.
“H-hey! Jay-Jay, stop!” He laughed hysterically. When Jabber stopped tickling him, he grabbed Zanka's waist and pulled him closer.
“I really do like you though,” he said.
Zanka sighed and grabbed each side of Jabber's face, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. He pulled away. “Yeah, I like you too.”
He turned around and sneezed into the crook of his elbow.
—
The next morning, they were both in bed, sick.
Neither regretted a thing.