Chapter Text
For as long as Jabber could remember he’s hated himself.
He hated his body, and for a long time he was stuck with breasts he wished to carve off of him. He's still stuck with a lower region he can't fathom to look at longer than a few seconds. He couldn't fathom the idea of staring at himself in the mirror any more. Every mirror in his home is broken or covered, just so he doesn't have the chance to catch a glimpse of himself anymore.
It’s currently hot as shit in his house, the tiny place has no cool zones to stay in any longer, the heat crawled into every nook and cranny hours ago, the windows do nothing but drag in hot air.
He's currently lying on the kitchen floor, his hair sprawled out, made sure to not touch his sweaty body. His tank top is thoroughly soaked through, his loose shorts doing nothing but sticking to him, making his skin crawl.
Jabber sits up, his skin so sticky with sweat it sticks to his tiled floor. His back aches, the kitchen no longer as cool as it was earlier that morning.
He finally manages to stand up, his legs aching and wobbly as he stretches his arms up, popping noises loud in the small kitchen as he groans loud and obnoxiously. He shucks off his shorts as he walks the short distance to his living space before plopping face first onto his couch. The scratchy fabric rubbing on him as he shuffles onto his side, face mushed into the cushion beneath him. It's still unbearably hot, it’s quite in his dingy home, it smells decent, outside of Jabber, he stinks.
Outside he hears folks chatting among themselves, his brow furrows, he questions people’s sanity when it's hot out like this and they chat like it's a normal day out. He sighs, moving to lay on his back. His mind drifts to Zanka, it always does lately, his ribs are finally healed after their big fight but he still has a gnarly bruise on them, his fault, he keeps bullying the bruise so it hasn't gone away just yet.
Jabber hasn’t stopped thinking of Zanka since their first fight. He was beautiful and so insane it made his heart beat fast and his face flush. But deep in his core he can't help but hate him.
Zanka was perfect, and he was a true man, he's nothing like Jabber. He has broad shoulders, and thick brows, his body is bigger than Jabbers’s in almost every way besides height. Jabber is lanky, his arms built but skinny compared to Zanka’s, his chest has jagged scars underneath the small pecs, hardly noticeable as the years go by, his body built, but small. It screamed feminine compared to Zanka, and it made him despise him, he was born the right way while Jabber wasn’t. He’s escaped the “girl” comments made by the strangers, but he hasn’t escaped his mind. He doesn't think he ever will.
Still sweaty, still lying on his couch, now pissed off at Zanka, Jabber drags himself up and into the bathroom. If he can't escape this insane heat naturally he might as well take a freezing shower to cool down. He faces the wall, water cascading down his body as his nails dig into his ribs, he pulls his hands away as soon as he starts to bleed. Instead he starts to rhythmically tap his fingers onto the shower wall beside himself, he looks down at the drain, watching as a trickle of blood gets washed away. He gets sick of it and drops his hand, his eyes trained onto the drain as he turns the water off.
He dries off, gets dressed and grabs his least uncomfortable sandals and heads outside as he pulls his hair up and off his neck. He wanders his way farther into town, and then far outside of town.
It's only a smidgen of cooler outside of town where he is now, mostly because now the air has decided to have some wind. How thoughtful of it, Jabber has his head down, watching as he walks, no thoughts passing through his mind. Or well maybe a passing by thought of the shapes of the rocks he steps on. He has both hands in his zip ups pockets, the sleeves torn off. He stops and squats down to pick up a rock, holding it up to look at it better. His lips forming a pout as he shuffles it around his hand.
“Didn’t know this part of town held freaks.”
Jabber whips his head around, glaring at the person who had snuck up on him. His eyes widened as his lips stretched into a smile “Aye! Mister bad attitude!” he stands up and he shoves the rock into his pocket. Zanka looks at him funny for it “Why are you out here? Pretty boring out this way.” Jabber sounds gleeful, and Zanka still has that look on his face “Got sent out here, why are you here, collecting rocks?” He keeps staring at Jabber, and it's getting a little annoying. “Collecting? Ah nah, got too hot, ya’know? I decided maybe a walk would be good, but it's not!” he shrugs with a small smile as he rocks back and forth on his heels, Zanka hums, looking Jabber up and down “Yer hairs up.” Jabber cocks his head and his eyebrow raises “Uh, yeah, it's hot as balls man.” he sighs straightening up again before looking at what Zanka was wearing, pulling the same thing he did, up and down and straight in the eyes.
Zanka still has on the normal outfit, his staff on his back, he looks sweaty. “You look nasty dude, bet ya stink” He giggles as the other rolls his eyes “Ya’know my place isn't too far if you wanna shower!” He purposely adds a tone, just to watch as the younger flushes “That's stupid, I ain't gonna trust no raider, ‘specially not you.” Jabber shrugs, presses his lips together “ah well…stink then” he starts to walk back the way he came. He hears the boy sigh before following him, Jabber snickers but doesn't make any remarks.
They get back to Jabbers, and Zanka has the gall to look shocked. He schools his face when he sees Jabber's unimpressed expression “sorry, didn't expect it to be.. Little” Jabber stifles a laugh as he turns to look at him, he outright laughs when he sees how red Zanka got in such a short amount of time. He calms down as he plops onto the couch “I don’t get paid enough for anything bigger, besides, It's comfy” Zanka stares at him, he looks a little.. Confused. Jabber points to his bathroom behind him “Showers in there, got extra towels and washcloths in the closet in there, have at it” he turns on his TV as he relaxes into the couch, Zanka removes his shoes before walking in the rest of the way, then heads into the bathroom.
About 20 minutes later he re-emerges, Jabber tilts his head back as Zanka walks out and rounds the couch to sit down “Why do you got that towel on the mirror? It ain’t broken” Jabber stills before looking at him, he tries to look indifferent but he's actually a little freaked out inside.
“Just cause” he mumbles, turning back to the TV “Cause why? Are you superstitious or what?” Jabber grumbles, his brows pinch together “Fucking noisy huh?” Zanka nods “Yeah, i'm in yer house, i wanna know why your weirdness travels” Jabber makes a face before looking at him again, his lips are pursed “You make no sense, what the hell does that mean” Zanka cocks his head at him “Ya’know, your weird, and your weirdness traveled into yer home?” Jabber looks at him longer before sighing “I don’t like looking at myself” He stares at the TV screen even harder now “Why not?”
Jabber groans, loudly “I mean your handsome, and ya’know, easy on the eyes, when you're not being.. Well.. weird” Jabber whips his head to look at him, his face is red and he isn't even looking at the older anymore “You think i'm handsome?” Zanka reluctantly and slowly nods, he feels giddy, he’s smiling wide and giggling like a maniac. Zanka is staring at him like he has three heads now, his face still pink “Don’t laugh! I'm serious!” Jabber calms down a little “Yeah, and you're not too bad yourself! Got them pretty lashes, all the girls wish they had” Jabber smirks, the other rolls his eyes and scoffs “yeah, and I got the soft skin like one, I know. I’ve been mistaken for a girl a lot before” the older’s smile drops and he looks at him quizzically. Zanka stares back “What?” Jabber fixes his face “Nothing” Zanka, ever persistent Zanka, looks about ready to integrate Jabber now “Do you have a problem with what I said? It’s not like it hurts me, been told that I've been feminine my whole life” Jabber scoffs “Yeah, you are so feminine Zanka, you just look like a pretty lady” he makes an offended noise and moves his body to face Jabber “Yer insane ya know that? Why does it upset you when I'm the one who's been told that my whole life” Jabber scoffs louder and moves and sits up “You are the farthest of feminine I've ever seen,you-you’ve got the body and the hands of a man, you're nothing like me!” his hands are all over the place as he speaks, Zanka makes an exasperated noise and sits up his hand on the back of the couch as he stares at Jabber “You are so insane! Why has this got you so worked up! Yer just as a man as I am! I mean look at you!” Zanka scoffs as he shakes his head, flopping back onto the couch, Jabber sits back with him.
Jabber doesn’t understand why that hurt him like it did, it wasn’t like Zanka called him those things. He supposes he just finds it hard to believe he was ever called feminine, Zanka does have feminine features he has to admit that. He feels 14 all over again, emotional over the stupidest things, he feels like a girl. He supposed he could blame it on being "ill" like his family used to, but knowing Zanka, he wouldn't believe him.
They sit in silence for a little longer than five minutes. They’ve both been roasting in silence, Jabber laughs to himself at that thought, he made the argument about him and now they are sitting in complete silence in his hotter than hell house. Zanka turns to him, scowl on his face “The hell you laughin’ at now?” Jabber giggles and purses his lips “Finding it funny we're sitting here roasting together like a couple of piggies” he smiles and rolls his eyes before getting up and lying on the floor in a starfish position. Zanka huffs, flops on the couch again before laughing “Yer ridiculous, first ya loose it on me then yer laughin” he sighs “Why are you so strange?” Jabber shrugs “Why are you into it” he groans at his response “I am not into it, yer just reading into things” The taller blows a raspberry at him. He leans on his arms to look at him just to see he fell asleep. He groans and flops back “Loser, who falls asleep that fast” he whispers as he drifts off to sleep.
Jabber wakes up hours later, he jolts up and sees Zanka is now lying on the couch, he’s got his staff held close to him and he's snoring really quiet, he smirks, all buff and mean but he snores like a baby. It’s dark outside, only the stove light visible, the TV static the only audible thing. He crawls over to the boy, his face inches from Zanka’s, he looks all over his face, he is right, he has soft skin, he raises his hand and pokes his cheek. Yup, soft, he then moves it and softly moves the tip of his finger down his nose bridge, the boy's weird brows furrow. He sits back, and observes his sleeping form, he reaches out and grabs his hand. He pushes their palms flat together. Zanka has bigger palms, his hands are elegant but calloused, Jabber’s are slender and soft, his fingers are longer than Zanka’s own. He puts his hand down, even his nails are well maintained, what a weirdo.
He looks up just to be met with dark blue eyes staring at him, his eyes widen “Hi” the younger grabs his hand, just like Jabber did, and then maneuvers it to look at his nails “Ya got daggers for nails, what color are they?” he squints trying to see the color better in the dark, Jabber giggles “It’s just a dark purple” Zanka hums, his thumb running over Mankira. He lets go of Jabber’s hand, instead he slides his hand up onto his wrist and under his bracelets, his fingers drag across his scars, he purses his lips together in a pout before removing his hand entirely “Yer real soft, ironic because everything else isn’t” Jabber makes a noise before crawling up and onto the couch, sitting next to Zanka’s knees. Zanka moves his staff to rest on the back of the couch before lying back down again.
Jabber places his hand on his abdomen, fingers spread out, his hand moving with every breath he takes, Zanka places his hand on top of his, he can feel his abs underneath his hand, their firm under the tips of his fingers. Zanka slowly puts his own hand on his and drags Jabber’s hand up to his chest, his hand splayed on the left side of his chest, his heart beating real fast under his palm. Jabber looks up at Zanka, he looks normal despite his heartbeat, Jabber squeezes his hand, he can really feel the muscle now, its also fairly squishy, Zanka jolts and it makes Jabber start to manically laugh at him, and he watches as his face turns 50 shades of red, clashing with the wicked glare aimed at the maniac. Jabber leans back, hand covering his mouth as his other hand holds the younger knee as he keeps laughing. He hears Zanka start to laugh as well, soon they're both cackling.
Once their giggle fit calms down Jabber tilts his head down at the boy “Ya need some clothes?” Zanka nods before sitting up. Jabber practically skips to his room to get some clothes for his guest. He shuffles through and finds a loose t-shirt and some shorts, he walks back out to the couch and hands them to Zanka “Hope they are to your taste” he smirks, the other rolls his eyes before heading into the bathroom to change. Jabber takes that time to wander back into his room to get dressed into sleep clothes. So he searches his closet again
Once Zanka is dressed, and his clothes are folded all nice and neat, he leaves the bathroom, placing his clothes on the couch caressing Assistaff as he passes her into, what he assumes is Jabber’s room, he pushes the door open and freezes, Jabber is staring straight at him, a smirk forming on his face “I’m sorry, I should've knocked” Zanka mumbles. He can't take his eyes off the taller individual, his body littered with scars, old, new, raised, thick and thin scars, all different colors and shapes.
Jabber shifts his body so he's fully facing the other “You good?” he clears his throat “Yeah, sorry” Zanka is a little pale in the face right now, obviously freaked he caught Jabber practically naked save for his boxers. Jabber not only has scars, he’s got a load of piercings as well. Shocker. The masochist has body jewelry. “So I call the wall! Oh anddd, I hog, you've been warned!” Jabber exclaims, his tone becomes overly silly towards the end, before flopping on the bed, promptly curling himself up, Mankira close to him. Zanka himself walks over to the bed and gets himself comfortable, he's sure to leave space between him and Jabber before he drifts off to sleep for the last time of the night.
The next morning Zanka wakes up with a leg tossed over his own and hair next to his face, jabber really wasn't joking. He’s belly down, leg over his, hand on his bicep and his wicks right next to his face, scratch that his head is next to his face, just covered in hair. He yawns as he places his hand on Jabber’s forearm, he turns his head and is greeted by Jabber staring at him. He flinches back “How long have you been up?” the other shrugs “few seconds” his voice is rough with sleep and he blinks owlishly at Zanka before sitting up, his leg is still on his yet this freak is sitting up and he doesn't even seem fazed as he pushes his hand tosses his hair back. Yawning loudly and looking out the window, Zanka’s hand still on his arm.
Jabber climbs out of bed and Zanka follows, he bee lines it to Lovely Assistaff and takes her to sit on the sofa. Jabber emerges from the bathroom not long after “I would make breakfast but I ain't got much to cook” Zanka hums “It’s fine” Jabber responded, oddly quiet, maybe that's just morning Jabber?
Jabber shuffles his way onto the couch, curled up at the edge as he watches Zanka tend to his Jinki. He shuffles mankira around his fingers, very tediously and the exact same way on each ring. He runs his fingers along each bracelet, less tedious. Zanka notices his eyes still on Assistaff “You also gotta routine for her” the other blinks before mumbling a weak ‘yeah’. Jabber stares at Zanka, he knows he’s going to integrate him but he’s hoping he doesn’t, and he doesn’t win “Your good yeah? Yer actin’ funny” Jabber hisses, he wiggles in place “I ain’t used to my over night guest being here in the mornin’” Zanka finishes with his staff before looking over at the weird one, his face in a grimace “That's weird, don’t say it like that” Jabber scrunches his shoulders up to his ears, sucking air through his teeth “well, it is like that so” Zanka scoffs and shakes his head “Probably scared ‘em off by how fast you wake up” Jabber gasps “its normal” Zanka chuckles “its not!” Jabber gasps even louder “At least I don’t talk in my sleep!” he gasps himself “I do not!” Jabber does a mock sleep position as he mumbles random words. Zanka laughs at his antics, Jabber places his hands back in his lap, admires Zanka for a millisecond, at least he diverted his questions. Jabber knows it’s only a matter of time before Zanka catches on, everyone does at some point.
Zanka pushes himself up, grabbing his clothes as he heads into the restroom. Jabber watches while he gets up himself, heading into the kitchen. Zanka closes the door and as he’s setting his clothes down he notices the towels back up. Looking back at it Jabber did spend a hot minute in here and came out all weird. He shakes it off as he dresses himself.
He heads back out to Jabber cooking what appears to be eggs, he watches him for a moment, looking at all the scars the man has, and to the bruise on his ribs still, in the morning light the scars look more blended in, last night they stuck out, the moon encapsulating their beauty. Jabber looks over at him “I’m makin’ eggs and toast, all I got pookie!” Zanka scoffs as a smile makes its way to his face. He walks out to the small kitchen, resting his hip on the counter. He watches Jabber cook “You acted funny cause the mirror didn’t you?” He stills for a fraction of a second before flipping the eggs. Zanka watches as he runs his tongue over his teeth, of course its split what a freak, “Not your business Zee” Zanka sighs “Yer right, but imma ask anyway” jabber straightens up, gaze straight ahead “like I said, I don’t like lookin’ at myself, makes me feel.. ya’know” Zanka shakes his head.
Jabber finishes cooking, and plates their food before heading to the two person table near the couch. They eat in silence much to Zanka’s dismay, he was hoping the boy would talk with him but every time he strikes up a conversation he shoots it down.
Jabber pokes at his plate, he knows he’s being stubborn and mean but what else is he to do? So instead of talking he keeps quiet, he rises out of his seat and puts his dishes in the sink and reaches a hand out for Zanka’s. He washes them, Zanka watches from the table, He’s waiting for something and anything from the man, even just a simple “get out” would be enough. Instead he’s stuck in his head, hoping the freak would speak. “Jabber.” His voice breaks at the end and it’s more mumbled than anything. He clears his throat “If you want me to leave please just say so..” Jabber sighs, turns to him and musters up a smile “Mister bad attitude, yer startin’ to sound a little..” he kisses his teeth “soft.. you gettin’ soft on me Zan-Zan?” Zanka’s eyes widen before narrowing as he scoffs, his fists clench in his thighs “No, never” he stands and goes for Assistaff. He stomps off to the door, pulling on his boots while he opens it to leave. Jabber stands at the table now, he watches as Zanka leaves. He can’t help but feel a little sad when Zanka slams his front door shut.
The sadness however, wilts away into a burning rage deep in his chest, tears weld up in his eyes. Where does Zanka get off integrating Jabber about him and his life, if the roles were reversed would Zanka be so willing to spill? No, he would be just as mean as Jabber was being.
Jabber sucks in air through his teeth, his chest aches and his nails dig into his palm as the tears spill over, he’s gasping in air. Jabber takes a hand and claws it at his chest, his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down hard. He feels like a fool, he's felt like one since he started that spat between them, Zanka does nothing but infuriate him. He hates Zanka, hates every piece of him, but worst of all he wants to be Zanka, wants his body, his muscles, his hands, his lips. He wishes he was a man, maybe a man Zanka could see himself with. He manages to push himself to move to the bathroom, he turns his shower on to the hottest setting and clambers into it. He gasps for air as he tries to force the tears to stop. He puts his temple on the wall and wipes the tears away.
Once he feels calm enough he exits the shower and his eyes catch the towel covered mirror. He removes it and just stares at himself.
For the first time in years Jabber stares at himself willingly.
And he still hates how he looks.