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Zanka woke up to the smell of waffles.
It had been a week since he and Jabber left HQ and didn’t look back. He knew the Cleaners were looking for him. He had taken his choker off and kept it off as he didn’t need Semiu tracking him.
He didn’t want to be found right now.
He knew they were patrolling for him. Had heard Cthoni complaining to Jabber about the increased Cleaners and Hell Guard alike.
That was another thing. Corvus had called his older siblings. So now his family was really on his ass.
He honestly rather Enjin than Kyoka or Goka. They would probably try to kill Jabber without hesitation.
Like hell that was happening.
He gripped Lovely closer to him as he slowly got up from the bed. Jabber’s shirt falling against his skin as he pulled it on along with a pair of Jabber’s boxers, finding his sandals and slipping them on before exiting their room.
Shit, their room. Not just Jabber’s anymore.
They had relocated to some abandoned apartment that Jabber had been inhabiting behind Zodyl’s back, Zanka was initially surprised the Raider had been able to keep it a secret this long.
It was in some dingy back streets of a town just teetering a safe distance from No Man’s Land. He figured this mixed in with the endless toxin conditioning Jabber had done over the years was the reason the man could breathe in the constantly toxic air so easily without a mask.
At first Zanka could feel his lungs convulse and retaliate against the air but after a while it stopped. Jabber made sure he was breathing normally with homemade vials and remedies that left Zanka feeling floaty and unbothered by the fumes as the week progressed.
He had some semblance of a tolerance to poisons before due to his hellish childhood in the Hell Guard, but Jabber made sure he really had a tolerance with the constant poisonous drugs they shared between them during heated kisses and passionate nights.
Zanka loved being so welcome in Jabber’s personal space.
The home was lived in. Various trinkets and miscellaneous furniture lining the shelves and filling the space, most of it recycled trash from the never ending fields of it that littered the Ground.
Rudo would love Jabber’s house.
He couldn’t think of the little shit without feeling a little sad.
Enough about the family.
Zanka cleared his head as he walked down the small hallway towards the intoxicating smell of waffles and chemicals.
Jabber always smelt like chemicals. No matter how many times they’ve bathed together over the past week, it seemed the toxins constantly flowing through the Raider’s veins wanted to make themselves known.
Not like Zanka minded.
The Cleaner found himself smiling upon seeing the man, shirtless and wearing some well worn sweatpants, mindlessly humming and bangles jingling as he expertly plated the waffles before adding some of his “special” additions to him and Zanka’s matching plates.
Jabber always looked so relaxed with Zanka. At first, the both of them were an awkward mix of tense shoulders and hesitant lingering touches but they found each other after a little trial and error over the last 6 or so months.
So, it was second nature for Zanka to set Lovely against the doorway as he wrapped his arms around Jabber’s middle from behind and pressed a gentle kiss to Jabber’s exposed neck as his dreads were tied into a haphazard ponytail.
“Morning, sweetness,” Jabber giggled as he felt Zanka squeeze in response, “sleep good?”
Zanka hummed against his pulse in lieu of an answer.
“Breakfast smells good, give’t,” Zanka said, unlatching himself from his man and making grabby hands at his plate, mouth filling with drool as he yearned for the fluffy waffles and added syrups begging him to consume them.
Jabber laughed as he picked up both plates and hustled them to the small table they had all their meals at together, Zanka following him like a puppy.
Zanka wasted no time before sitting in his seat and digging into the beautiful breakfast Jabber had made him.
They ate in relative silence, forks clanking against plates as Zanka’s sandaled foot rubbed absently against Jabber’s exposed ankle. Now that Zanka knew he was allowed to touch, he couldn’t stop himself. He blames him constantly yearning for touch that he never received, and Jabber made sure to always try to give it to him.
They finished eating quickly, Zanka smiling softly feeling the syrup slide down his throat as it started taking effect in his bloodstream. Jabber picked up their plates and dropped them into the sink before coming back to scoop Zanka into his arms, both giggling as he walked them to the couch before flopping down on it. Zanka sitting on his lap as Jabber rubbed his hands over Zanka’s bare thighs.
Jabber loved having Zanka like this. All soft and gooey just for him. He was adorable, leaning into Jabber’s touch as he rested his head against the top of Jabber’s.
God he loved Zanka so damn much.
“What’re ya giggling at?” Zanka asked quietly as he felt Mankira drag lovingly up and down his soft skin, Jabber never stopping his movements as he looked up at Zanka to answer him.
“Nothing baby, just thinking about you,” Jabber said, nuzzling into the exposed collarbone in front of him as his clothes were just a tad too baggy for his boy’s smaller frame, “you’re so beautiful.”
Jabber laughed a little harder seeing tasseled lined ears turning bright red.
“Oh shuddup, ya weirdo,” Zanka whispered, feeling heat engulf his whole face as Jabber laughed.
They stayed like that for a while. The drugs made them lax and lazy as they cuddled on the couch. The faint sound of trash rumbling outside but neither of them cared.
Zanka was happy. For the first time in a long time, he was actually happy.
He never wanted it to end.
His depression killed him every day. Waking up was a chore, moving was a chore, fuck even breathing took a toll on him. But with Jabber? It was like he saw the world in a new light, no- Jabber was his world.
He wished he could keep this moment forever.
But he knew he couldn’t.
His family was looking for him, not just the Cleaners but his blood. The Nijiku family was merciless, it didn’t matter if he was basically exiled and seen as an abomination to the name, a disappointment to the Nijiku family. An Average Joe drowning in a crowd of Natural Talents. It was even worse when he figured out he was a Giver. Even with a Vital Instrument, he was still average. An average Nijiku.
He would always be Zanka Nijiku.
And he hated it. So fucking much.
They would take him away from this, away from Jabber- forcefully. It wouldn’t matter how much he fought, yelled, kicked and screamed, they were stronger than him-who wasn’t at this point-and they would pry him from the only semblance of comfort he had.
The Nijiku didn’t care for such weaknesses as feelings. They made that very clear in his adolescence. Every day, sitting through and enduring brutal expectations, training, and beatings since he was 5.
The Nijiku would kill Jabber.
He felt sick to his stomach at the thought of Jabber dying at the hands of the wrong Nijiku.
But he wasn’t a Nijiku, not really. He would forever be chained to the name but he was never truly one of them.
Zanka Nijiku. The weak, disappointing, average singular Giver of the Hell Guard.
He was such a fucking stain on the perfect surface of that goddamn last name.
He could feel his heartbeat pick up to his usual frantic pace as he started trembling.
Jabber noticed Zanka start shaking like a leaf in his lap.
“Zan-Zan? You ok..?” Jabber started, feeling the boy in his arms hiccup and gasp as his pulse spiked.
“…They’re gon’ kill ya…” Zanka whispered leaving Jabber more confused than before, “they can’t. They can’t..! It can’t be them. They’re the wrong- No..no..”
Ah. He was thinking about his family then.
Shit.
Zanka had opened up about his birth family only once. It was when him and Jabber were still sneaking around Cleaners HQ, both high out of their minds in Zanka’s room with the door locked after fooling around, giggling at the ceiling when Zanka randomly grabbed his hand and got real quiet before whispering,
“I wish my sister and brother liked me.”
Which then sparked him telling Jabber everything, his older siblings, his parents, training borderlining torture, the Golden Throne, Hyo, that infamous well.
All of it.
So yeah, Jabber knew all of it. Even vowed to kill Goka after finding out what that bastard had done to Zanka during the Doll Festival. He remembers that scar, seeing it for the first time while Zanka tried to convince him it was a trash beast.
He indulged him at the time, but he figured the truth and Zanka had confirmed it in that drug induced rant.
He was going to carve out Goka’s heart slowly and give it to Zanka, still beating.
Jabber squeezed Zanka tighter in his lap as the boy shook. All this talk about family made Jabber think of his.
His momma was the one to give him Mankira. Before she was on him, she was his mother’s. He always loved Mankira, even as a kid. Many times he had climbed into his momma’s lap as she styled his unruly curls into thick dreads, always grabbing her free hand and admiring the set of rings always adorning her nimble fingers.
“She’ll be yours someday, sweetie,” His momma always said, kissing his cheek as he giggled.
He remembered having to pick each dust and blood ridden ring off his momma’s cold corpse as her body finally started decomposing.
Remembered through his haze of tears taking her bangles too as the trash beast that had been terrorizing his neighborhood roared behind him. Furious at the little boy for tampering with his prey, even if the hellspawn had already killed his beautiful momma weeks ago by now.
Mankira had responded to the rage planted so deep into his soul and bloomed into the gorgeous claws he learned to adore.
Jabber definitely remembers killing the horrid thing and then promptly swallowing all his momma’s homemade “elixirs” and “happy juice” that she never let him touch before. Remembers feeling so free after digesting them that he kept doing it, and when he got used to it, started trying to make his own combinations.
He also discovered the beauty of physical pain.
Pain that was so good and deep that he felt euphoria every time he ripped open his skin with Mankira and watched the blood pour out, so good that when he ran out of room he kept chasing it everywhere he went. Picking fights with anyone he thought was interesting, meeting Zodyl that beat him so good he joined the Raiders. Fighting hella strong Givers and non Givers alike but still yearning for more. But he never knew what.
He found what he was yearning for when he met the breathtaking Zanka Nijiku.
But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Zanka Nijiku was the love of his life.
Well, he didn’t have to be a Nijiku…
“Hey Zanka, I got an idea,” Jabber murmured quietly, his boy still shaking but not gasping for air anymore, Zanka turned towards him slightly with an eyebrow raised.
“Become a Wonger.”
The silence that followed restricted all air flow in the room.
“W-what..?” Zanka whispered, staring at Jabber’s squeamish face as he felt his eyes keep widening in shock.
He had to have heard Jabber wrong. But if he didn’t- he said to become a Wonger. A Wonger, and the only way to change last names in this context was-
“Ya wanna marry me…?”
Jabber realized the reality of what he said only after Zanka uttered those words. He found that he didn’t even hesitate before answering a simple:
“Yes.”
Magenta met blue.
Zanka had stopped shaking entirely, his body so stiff now that Jabber feared he wasn’t breathing. He slowly picked up his hand from Zanka’s thigh and started looking at Mankira. Not one word came out from either of them as he slowly pulled the ring on his left ring finger. Shaky hands slowly grabbing Zanka’s frozen hand and carefully sliding the rounded metal on his beloved’s left ring finger.
Both of them stared at the shiny metal adorning unfamiliar pale skin when Zanka suddenly shot his arm out towards the kitchen entrance. A faint rattling filled the space as Lovely was beckoned to her owner before flying into Zanka’s awaiting palm. Zanka looked her over lovingly, Jabber knew how much she meant to Zanka. He thanked her almost every night for keeping him alive, a sentiment that Jabber also started doing since without her, Zanka would’ve never been his.
Zanka stayed silent as he carefully started unwrapping a piece of gauze off her handle. The material was well worn and loved as he finished unwrapping it and stared at the unrolled gauze in his palm.
Jabber’s heart rate skyrocketed as Zanka started wrapping the gauze around his now bare finger.
“I can’t really give ya a piece a’ her,” Zanka whispered, “but this’s da first wrapping I ever gave her so…” Blue met magenta again, both quickly being clouded by tears as Zanka said the final words,
“Take care a’ it. Ya hear me?”
Jabber couldn’t hold back any longer. Surging up to cup his boyfriend’s, no fiancée’s, face and kissing him full force.
Zanka responded immediately, their tears leaking into the kiss and making it salty but they didn’t care. They kissed like that until the air begged for them. They broke apart, panting as their tears kept falling.
“Fuck. Yeah Zanka. I’ll take care of it forever.” Jabber finally whispered awestruck at the little wrapping around his dark skin that felt so heavy with love.
Zanka smiled, similarly staring at the cool metal on his finger, feeling a part of Mankira pulse against his skin with adoration.
“Y’know, Zanka Wonger aint sound bad..” Zanka sniffled, snickering as Jabber started to laugh.
“Hell yeah it doesn’t baby,” Jabber laughed before kissing him again.
Zanka Wonger was the love of Jabber’s life.
—
Enjin felt the same feeling of disappointment wash over him at yet another failed mission.
It’s been two whole weeks since they got a hold of Zanka. No one had seen him in two whole weeks. To say they were worried was an understatement, the Hell Guard was notified of Zanka’s sudden disappearance and immediately sent Kyoka and Goka to find their forgotten brother.
Enjin hated having them around. Multiple times he had to pull Riyo and Rudo back from all but yelling with Zanka’s siblings as they lamented on how weak the boy was for running away. Running away as a prostitute in need of some dope, no less.
Enjin couldn’t lie, he had to hold himself back too.
He wasn’t disappointed by Zanka’s decision. The boy did really seem to believe that what he was doing was the only way to help him. Enjin knew Zanka’s mental state was bad. Had seen it first hand multiple times as Zanka talked about his death like it was nothing.
He didn’t think it was this bad though.
He wished that Zanka just talked to him.
He exhaled the smoke coursing through his lungs, the familiar taste of nicotine and tobacco filling his lungs as he drove across the wasteland.
He was on a solo gig again. Team Akuta had been on non-stop scouting looking for its fourth member. He had ordered Riyo and Rudo to have a break, lord knows they needed it. Riyo being far too quiet and easily irritated as her concern grew and grew while Rudo’s temper and violence had been through the roof without his mentor. It was so bad to the point Amo and endless sweets couldn’t even calm him.
Corvus had pleaded with them to take a break, attempting to reassure them that he sent all available Cleaners on scouting routes to look for Zanka, along with whatever Hell Guard that forced themselves into the mission.
Enjin couldn’t take a break. He wanted his kids to rest rather than him.
Fuck, they really were his kids.
And one of them was missing.
Enjin kept his eyes on the road as he drove faster.
He was going to find his son, no matter how long it took.
—
Zanka smiled looking at the metal on his ring finger again.
Him and Jabber were engaged.
Had been for a week now.
Making it two weeks since he ran away.
He found himself not even caring. He knew he would eventually return, but for now, it was just him and Jabber.
Him and his man.
The sudden proposal had left them both crying and laughing. Lovingly sharing kisses before things got heated and Zanka had been worshipped so hard that he came five times.
He giggled at the memory, feeling Jabber’s hand squeezing harder against his waist as his snoring filled the room.
He snuggled closer to his sleeping fiancé and smiled more.
Yeah, Zanka Wonger really didn’t sound too bad.