Chapter Text
Zanka is burning. It’s a fire that rages within the confines of his lungs, never to go beyond the boundary of his skin. He’s hot enough that he feels like he might set fire to Lovely Assisstaff, so he makes sure to keep his hand off her as he watches Hii and Jabber fight like they’ve done this millions of times before.
They’re a whirlwind of hands and arms and legs, moving so fast that Zanka feels like he’s losing a bit of his mind—he can catch bits and pieces of the fight, but not enough to get a good enough picture of what they were doing.
Or, what Hii was doing to Jabber, more like. Zanka might not be able to see them properly—especially not from where he hides behind an unassuming pile of rubble—but he can certainly hear them. He can hear Hii grunting when Jabber gets just a touch too close, can hear Jabber groan when Hii lands a solid punch on his solar plexus, can hear the displacement of the trash surrounding them as they battle.
He can hear when their battle ends, when Jabber is left twitching on the ground, wrought with his backwards pleasure, little whines hiccupping in his throat as Hii stands over him. Zanka can’t see the face Hii makes, but he can see how Jabber responds to it—the raider’s eyes flutter fervently, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Zanka can’t see much, yet he burns all the same. The fire sears the inside of his throat, makes it as dry as Penta, makes him long for just one sip of water he probably shouldn’t have.
Fuu has always found it hard to say no to Jabber.
Well, Fuu couldn’t say no to anyone who asked anything of him, but Jabber was a different case altogether because Fuu felt as though his compulsion to do damn near anything Jabber asked of him was not his own.
It wasn’t often that Hii's desires differed from Fuu’s. In fact, Fuu isn’t sure that they differ even now, when he comes back to his body to find Jabber beaten bloody in front of him, panting and smiling up at him.
“Fuu, you’re back,” Jabber sighs, eyelashes fluttering over skin red with his own blood. “Hii is so mean, bringin’ you back just so you can see me like this.” He hums, eyes glittering with a warmth the opposite of comforting. It sets Fuu ablaze, accelerates his already quickened heart rate into something that hammers loudly in his chest. Fuu…he doesn’t…hate this. He just thinks that Hii likes it more. A hell of a lot more, if the way he always agrees to battle Jabber was anything to go by.
“It’s cuz no two fights are the same with this guy, even if he only ever loses,” Hii says gruffly in his mind. Fuu swallows.
Fuu knows that isn’t the only reason, but Hii is stubborn. He’s got more of a will than Fuu has ever had, is the personification of it, and if he doesn’t want to divulge something at the moment, then he won’t. Fuu can wait until he’s ready, because he knows that’s what this is about. Hii isn’t ready to admit that he likes the way Jabber looks under them. Fuu doesn’t have to hear Hii’s thoughts to know this—they share a body after all, so Fuu can feel every bit of the heat that lingers under his skin after a battle with Jabber.
“S-so mean.” Fuu stammers but agrees, crouching down beside Jabber. Usually, Hii will be the one to take care of this part, deciding what to do once Jabber has been beaten. Usually, Hii will decide to leave Jabber where he is, knowing the raider will enjoy struggling to get back to the Raider’s base (because he knows Jabber won’t call Cthoni of his own free will). Sometimes, Hii will decide to sit next to Jabber and listen to him prattle on about anything. He’ll claim it’s in the hopes of learning any new information about the Raiders to report back to Corvus, but they both know that Jabber was much too smart, even when on the verge of passing out, to do anything of the sort. Fuu knows that Hii just liked listening to Jabber talk. Hii knows that Fuu knows this. They have yet to speak about it.
“Do ya think next time he’ll stop holdin’ back on me? Tell him I can take it.” Jabber slurs as he pushes himself to sit up. “Can ya do that for me, Fuu?” And Jabber knows that Fuu weakens whenever he says his name. Fuu nods.
“I’ll tell him, but I don’t know if that will actually change his mind…” Fuu doesn’t tell Jabber that the reason Hii held back was that he wanted to keep Jabber alive. Hii isn’t normally one to go easy on people when he fights, and Fuu finds it ironic that the one person he does lighten up on is the one person who asks for the opposite.
“I’m goin’ easy on him because that cleaner with the staff will be pissed if I kill him, and since you like that guy so much, I’m savin’ myself from your whining. Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Hii grumbles. Fuu wonders why he bothers lying when they share so much of each other, and have for so long.
“Then I guess I’ll just hafta convince him that I can take it myself. Hii, I know you’re listenin’, so listen up—the next time we fight, if you don’t go all out, I’mma hafta take matters into my own hands, ya hear?” And Fuu isn’t sure what he means by this, but clearly Hii does, because the spirit goes deathly quiet in his mind. Any of the usual indicators of his presence are gone, and Fuu panics for all of one second before Hii is back again, the steady pulse of his being behind Fuu’s eyelids present once more. Whatever it was that Jabber was referring to must have been a conversation had during their battles. Fuu tended not to pay too much attention to them, not caring much for the senseless violence, and Hii tended to keep him away from them on purpose, knowing how Fuu felt about it. It was a mutual agreement that they had come to wordlessly, one that didn’t need to be expanded upon. Now, though, Fuu almost regrets not paying attention. Almost.
“I think—I think the next time you two fight, he’ll go harder on you,” Fuu tells Jabber. Jabber gives him a bloody grin. Fuu swallows thickly.
“Ya think? Did he tell ya that?” He asks eagerly, leaning toward Fuu, who leans subtly backward, though not much. Jabber’s eyes glitter with his excitement, so wide that Fuu almost feels like he can see himself in them.
“W-well—not necessarily, but I could just. Tell, I guess.” He rubs at the back of his neck. Hii doesn’t say anything to correct him, so he must be correct in his assumption. Jabber’s grin widens, and he punches Fuu’s shoulder playfully, but not lightly.
“You two are awesome.” He breathes. Fuu’s body shivers. Hii has always found it hard to say no to Jabber.