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It was colder than average for the night and with every coming breeze, Zanka felt even more regretful, a feeling he didn’t think could possibly increase at the moment. The cooling feeling powered by small gusts were tossing the fabric of his clothing aggressively and in turn, tousling his mind.
When he’d received the invite to Jabber’s apartment to involve himself in whatever ‘greening out’ was, Zanka was hesitant but in the moment he felt wanted. Not like he normally felt unwanted, he was loved by the cleaners, but this time it felt different. It was romantic, in the sense that romance to Jabber typically meant a fight rather than the boring acts of love Zanka had previously attempted to provide. Not that he needed to simply because he wasn’t sure if they were casual enough to engage in usual romance.
That burning feeling of desire had led Zanka to accept without a second thought but now that it was 10 pm, absolutely freezing, and he was lost in buttfuck nowhere, he was beginning to have second thoughts.
After what seemed like hours of aimlessly walking around, he found a large warehouse looking building, shoved into the deepest corner of the deserted trash city.
“Fuck this is eerie.” Zanka mumbled to himself as he approached the garage of the building.
He’d thought there was a door somewhere on the backside of the building but frankly, he wasn’t in the mood to go and find out, so he knocked repeatedly on the garage door until a window popped out from the very top of the building. A head popped out and a part of Zanka’s rage mildly increased.
Jabber looked down at him, long dreads hanging out the window as he propped himself up on his hand. “Mr. Bad Attitude."
“Where’s the entry Jabber?” He didn't bother greeting him back.
“Right around the building. Meet you there.” Jabber winked at Zanka and he forced the blush off his cheeks quickly.
Without acknowledging the other boy, he went around the side of the building and up the metal staircase towards the door which was already hanging open. Jabber leaned across the side of the doorway, a loose tank top and sweatpants hanging off his frame. He was pretty skinny but noticeably more lean than Zanka with scar-littered arms that Zanka could admit he enjoyed having pinning him down.
He stepped up to the doorway and Jabber’s appearance became more visible. His teeth were drawn with a large gaudy smile keeping them framed, his eyes were already glassy and red from whatever fumes he was inhaling in the building and his hand had an IV patch but not IV in place. Zanka could tell he was already tweaking.
Jabber stepped forward and took both of Zanka’s hands into his. “I’m so excited for you to try this.” Before he pulled him into the building, the door clicking as it locked behind them.
It was a warehouse, small but neatly organized by the addict himself. Jabber had the lower floor lined with rows of named and labelled substances. Some were in jars while others were boxed or held in more secure material. There were yellow hazard symbols covering the top of a few metal cases which were stuffed into the very back, probably for Jabber’s safety. The upper floor had a lab mixed with a kitchen, an oven, cabinet, shelves, and an island table littered with glass tubes and miscellaneous objects completing the look, and a bedroom sort of area with a mattress with covers on it lying on the floor. Truthfully, it was much neater than expected.
Jabber led him to the litchen(lab kitchen) and sat him down on a stool before digging in the cabinet and pulling a rectangular figure out. He inspected it before handing it off.
Zanka looked it over and turned back to Jabber, raising his eyebrow in curiosity. It was rectangular, a pink and yellow fading wrap covering the body of it with a glass top and plastic tube coming out of it. It’s like nothing he’d ever seen before.
“What is it?” Zanka asked.
Jabber leaned over the counter to look at Zanka. “I made it. I call it ‘the cart’ , short for THC vape cartridge. It’s a new invention.”
Now Zanka was getting a little worried seeing as it involved some sort of building.
“Watch closely.” Jabber took it back to demonstrate.
He put the tip of it on the tips of his lips and it looked like he was sucking from the device. His eyes remained fixed on the device as it began to light up, then he took his lips from it and something blew out of his nose. Zanka would’ve caught what the gas was if he wasn’t so fixated on Jabber’s lips and the way the other man’s eyes closed when he let the substance release from his nostrils.
Zanka could feel himself burning up as the cart was passed back to him. Jabber gave him that low look and gave him words of encouragement, something Zanka was absolutely not paying attention to as he kept eye contact with his partner.
The odd feeling of something fixing in the back of his mouth clouded him as he sucked, apparently too hard as he began to cough immediately.
Jabber laughed from the counter and Zanka felt tears pricking in his eye as he coughed viciously. He felt tricked.
“The hell’s–” But he was quickly interrupted by a finger pressing over his mouth.
Jabber was fully on the counter now, the cart in his hands as he shushed him. A grin was still on his face as he redemonstrated, his chest rising and falling as vapor poured out of his nose.
“Suck less.” He corrected and gave the cart back to him.
Zanka nodded, clearing away the thoughts conjured from Jabber’s awful wording, and tried the cart again. He sucked less and inhaled, vapor leaving his nose in small puffs. The smell left from the vapor ws fruity and sweet, pretty Jabber-like. His throat still burned and his chest felt spiky but he was somewhat proud that he’d managed to do it properly.
He attempted to give Jabber back the device but the latter first refused, being in the motion to put his hair up, and then refused again, informing him he’d have to ‘hit the cart’ more than once to get the intended effects.
Zanka was unsure as to why he was following directions. Any other day, he maybe would’ve lunged over the table and wrestled him over authority but today it was as if Jabber had wrapped him around his finger and caressed him into submission.
It was silent between them, Two Lily playing on the radio that was downstairs as they looked at one another. Jabber was smug as always, the crazed facial expression that he normally wore replaced by an eerie calmness.
“Man, I want to kiss you so bad.” Zanka mumbled, a wave of exhaustion suddenly overpowering him.
Jabber, feeling nice today, scooched forward on the counter and propped himself up. His legs now dangled off the counter, adjacent to Zanka, and he had his torso rotated so that he was facing the younger boy. Slowly, his hand went up and he tangled his ring-covered fingers in Zanka’s hair, pulling him in.
Surely Zanka was dying, or he’d already died and was walking on clouds because that’s what it felt like. The world blurred out behind the two and their lips pressed together gently at first then harsher as Jabber pulled back slightly, asking for Zanka to bite down on his lip. The metallic taste filled both their mouths and Zanka instinctively wanted to pull back but another part of him pushed forward, his hands gripping Jabber’s waist as the kiss deepened. Zanka’s tongue went over Jabber’s piercings a million times as he sucked and pulled at them, earning a quiet moan from the other boy,
Jabber’s lips were overly soft, like marshmallows sort of, but nonetheless the feeling of biting down into them appealed just as it would before. The skin on his hips was soft too, the occasional scar being the only thing Zanka felt as he massaged the area. It was great, in fact, Zanka thought he could do this all day and night, like there was no higher purpose worth achieving anywhere on the planet. Truthfully, and Zanka will never (ever) admit this, there’s not an hour of the day that he’s not thinking about Jabber’s body. Lanky everything, long hair that went in every which way when they fought, scarred skin that fit him in the most absurd yet ethereal way. His body was perfectly made, like a personalized statue manufactured for Zanka’s worshipping.
The kisses slowed as Jabber flicked Zanka’s teeth with his tongue. He smiled into him before pulling back and Zanka could see now that the other was slightly pink in the face, a sight rarer than gold.
“I’m lovin’ the compliments, but are you aware yer sayin’ them out loud, right?” Jabber grin was usual but Zanka swore he’d caught a hint of embarrassment on his face.
Wait. Had he been speaking out loud?
“You have.” Jabber answered and Zanka felt like he was going to die.
That’s weird.
“It is.”
This can’t be.
“It can be.”
“Get out of my head!” Zanka finally yelled. “I meant to say that one.” He told himself.
Jabber became giddy all of a sudden and took the cart. “It’s working!”
Zanka’s heart sank a little. He’d been talking out loud, or rather, Jabber had been reading his mind. He had a lot of personal things bouncing around in his head and Jabber could read mind snow, that meant he had access to all of that sensitive information. He now knew that Jabber knew that green apple was his favorite flavor, that the cleaners had one guy manning all security, that he’d let Riyo paint his toes two days ago, that he’d stolen Enjin’s alcohol twice and that he was into being licked (only by Jabber though) .
“You like being licked?” Jabber teased and leaned.
Zanka leaned back, his face taking on an offended look. “Get out of my head.” He whispered to him.
“Already out of it.” Jabber smirked at him and Zanka wanted to pull him into another kiss.
Something fell downstairs and immediately Zanka jumped. Suddenly, there was this deep feeling of paranoia surrounding him, like the shadows were going to jump out at him for breathing too loud. Obliging to the shadows' wishes, Zanka lowered his breathing, his eyes flicking around the room in a stressed manner. Nothing was getting the jump on him. Well maybe nothing but food, he was getting hungry.
“Paranoia getting to ya’.” The dreadhead questioned and changed his position.
He was now lying over the counter, supporting his hand with his propped up arm while staring with bleary eyes.
“Dear god.” Zanka huffed.
Jabber raised an eyebrow and sat up slightly. “Hungry?”
“Yeah.” The younger cleared his throat as Jabber turned to grab something. He was hungry, don't get him wrong, but for food and something food adjacent.
While the older leaned over, looking for something in a cabinet, his shirt rode up and exposed the twist of his torso and the pull of his muscles. Before Zanka could become more fixated, Jabber turned back, the tank top falling as it returned to normal placement. Cruelty is real.
Zanka hadn’t remembered putting anything his mouth, or chewing, but all of sudden there were crumbs on his lip and he felt fuller than he did 20 minutes ago, Jabber looked to be in the same state, though he was much quieter and staring blankly into the ceiling with his body spread across the counter.
Now they were completely silent, spacing out in the comfort of each other.
Zanka felt like he was losing it. His senses were elevated like never before. The ceiling was becoming one big blurry gray mass that was somehow nearing Zanka with each blink. Whatever was in that cart was dismantling him, similar to the feeling of melting then freezing continuously. It was therapeutic if you ignored the guarded feeling of being watched.
Everything was going by faster than anticipated, so fast that the two found themselves on the mattress farther from the litchen doing nothing. Sure, they’d stumbled back to the mattress with the idea that they’d be making out but as soon they both made contact with it, autopilot took space in their brains. No one spoke, the occasional air drawing aimed at the ceiling and pass off of the cart being the only sort of interaction they shared.
Man, what a dream.
*
Zanka woke up shirtless, lightheaded, and not next to Jabber.
It was bright out now, yellow sun casting a light over the warehouse and a specific line right over Zanka’s eyes.
He rolled over, almost opting to stay asleep but he needed to be back at HQ. He hadn’t even requested a night out, just a quick sneakout to test out a new drug with Jabber, so the moment they noticed he was missing, it’d be wraps.
Slowly he sat up, glancing around the upstairs area. Jabber was nowhere to be found.
Zanka was mildly hurt at the revelation but it wasn’t something uncommon so he rolled with it.
All truth be told, his head was off. Like it was just empty space where his brain should’ve been and he was exhausted in the way that reminded him of a harsh mission. He could’ve cleared his throat a million times and it would still feel full and no amount of water was seeming to cleanse the burning feeling in his chest and nostrils.
He spent a good 40 minutes looking for food before he got his belongings and thoughts together, also coming to the conclusion that Jabber would not be returning to bite him goodbye. Zanka was exiting out the door of the building when a note taped to the outside caught his attention.
“Dear Mr. Bad Attitude.” He read through the sickeningly good handwriting. “Thanks for the high, yer real cute when you get all paranoid and stuff. The vapor in the cart contains some mild toxins but you should be fine if you have zero allergies. Take the cart with you, I have a new and improved one plus I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. Feel free to do whatever with it. Congrats on yer first ever green out.” Zanka read monotonously.
He let himself smile at the note and rather than throwing it away, he folded it and shoved it in his pocket, the piece of paper joining the cart.