Chapter Text
Zanka could recognize the tell-tale signs of his period subtly approaching- the intermittent twist in his gut, the random pimples that would appear out of nowhere, the sudden depressive episodes. He knew the signs well enough that trying to predict when it was going to happen didn’t make sense. Especially with how irregular they were at times- it was easier to just wait till the symptoms started and go from there.
So, that's how he woke up. In more pain than usual, as the muscles surrounding his navel felt as if they were being ripped out. Contraction after contraction of the muscle pushes out whatever clotted tissue lies inside. Even Jabber's arms, dead weight over his hip, the other squished between his waist and the bed- couldn’t soothe the painful push and pull.
The man grumbled as he pulled himself away to get to the bathroom. Just seeing the blood-stained underwear made him recoil slightly. He had seen blood many times, but the way his legs shook as he pulled the fabric off, replacing it with a new pair and a large pad, made something in his gut churn. Or maybe that was the persistent nausea- standing relieved some of the pain in his hips, but the ache travelling down his legs made him want to sit.
The walk back to bed was shaky, a little wobbly, but held with relief as Zanka saw Jabber still asleep.
However, sitting on the edge of the bed was not much better than standing, as it calmed the shaking in his legs, but it brought back the pain in his pelvis. Zanka was about to get up, maybe pace the room for a little bit- but Jabber had other plans.
Sleepily, his arms circled his torso, pulling him back into the nest before laying his chin above his head. Zanka felt as if he was going to throw up, even with jabber’s scent so close, trying to distract himself from the saliva building in his mouth.
With enough willpower, Zanka was able to lie there for a little while, with practiced huffs of breath warming the air between them even more. But, even the alpha’s roaming hands, messaging the tense muscle of his hips, couldn’t settle the constrictions in his throat or the much-needed pressure right at his navel.
With a not-so-gentle push, Zanka got up again. Making his way to the toilet just in time to dry heave. His knuckles were white from the tight grip on the counter, his body hunched over as his body tried to expel- practically nothing. He hadn’t had breakfast or water, so the tears that built beneath his eyes were the only thing exiting his body. That and the vast amounts of thick saliva dripping down.
After a few minutes, Zanka realized a gentle hand had settled on his lower back. Rubbing up and down his spine as another dry heave wracked through his bones. Side eyeing the man, he looked sleepy, half awake, as the motion of his hand seemed to be the only thing he was conscious of.
“What time is it?”
He managed to croak out, despite what little he expelled- mainly just stomach acid as it burned his throat in its journey out.
“Mmmm…3 something..”
Oh.
That's why he was so tired. Zanka didn’t usually wake up in the middle of the night, especially not for his periods. Beneath the pain, he could feel the heat build up underneath his skin. Something that usually settled before the pain of his period.
Letting his head droop forward, Zanka groaned, shifting his feet to get the ache out of his legs and pelvis- failing spectacularly.
“You ain’t pregnant, right?”
Jabber poked at his ribs, face still neutral with sleep as Zanka let the question hang in the air.
“I’m not answering that.”
“Because… you are?”
“Because.. It’s a stupid question.”
Jabber only hummed as his hand continued its rhythm, at some point going under Zanka’s shirt. Cooler hand acting like a salve to his heated skin- earning a gentle sigh from him. Keeping his eyes closed, just in case the dim lights of the bathroom caused another hurl, he let the unanswered question ruminate.
After he had presented, and the subsequent drop he experienced afterwards, it brought about questions in the Nijiku household. Mainly, his body's insistence on making everything a dramatic problem. The type that would leave him experiencing a dissociative state so badly that even his siblings couldn’t push down their own biological instincts like usual, wanting to help their baby brother. So, essentially, he disrupted the entire routine of not only himself but the rest of his family.
Before, it was unheard of. That a Nijiku couldn’t push past these base urges, but just like always, he was the pathetic outlier. The one branch of the family that had the debate of whether he continued Hell Guard training dangled over his head. Thankfully, his Father, with all his wisdom, wanted him to continue with the Hell Guard.
His mother wanted to see if they could send him to an omega boarding school instead, a type of institution that was few and far between on the ground. A type of solution that was really only suggested to get rid of the burden he was on the family. It was something unheard of among the Nijiku but prominent in her own. His mother, born as a beta, was allowed to attend Hell Guard training by her family, but was still pushed toward an arranged marriage as a woman. Her sisters, however, whom Zanka rarely saw, were sent away.
The decision was ultimately made after his yearly physical with their family physician. Due to his vast heritage of alphas and betas, Zanka was deemed ‘lacking in the fertility department’ as his doctor laid out. His hormone levels mimicked those of a beta rather than an omega, low and lackluster, causing disruptions in his cycle. While he was glad it prevented him from being sent off, it did play into the forced bonding- and the way drops came easier to him, something that still needed to be remedied. That part of his past always made his stomach clench with another wave of nausea.
Clenching his teeth, Zanka repressed another dry heave before leaning more into Jabber’s bubble. The other readily accepted his added heat, where a year ago the alpha would have gone stock still. Unfamiliar with the gentle touch, almost fighting an internal battle to push the omega off. Now, Jabber brought his hands to his shoulders- giving a light tug closer as Zanka buried his nose into the thin fabric of his shirt.
“Let's get you back in bed.”
A whisper between the two of them, Zanka only nodded in agreement. Letting Jabber hold-or really-pull him towards the nest. The swirling twist of his gut remained, but seeing his nest once again felt like tension suddenly snapped from his core.
At first, Jabber tried to pull him to lie down- a small whimper escaping Zanka as if the pain traveling down his legs centered on his navel.
‘It-hurt-… it hurt so badly’ - like a mantra repeating in his mind, causing his whimpers to evolve into hiccups, then fragile sobs. His body was unable to regulate properly, nor understand the pain that erupted from an internal source he had no control over.
‘Why does it hurt so much?!’ - his cramps have never been this bad. In fact, he was usually able to tough it out, but now it felt as if his body was trying to expel everything at once.
Jabber cooed, pulling him up like some sort of kitten. Leaning back against the wall, the alpha pulled Zanka to his lap, positioning them to be chest to chest. A small sigh left Zanka’s lips as his hips fell into a wider position. It only minimally helped with his aching back, but it was better than lying down.
In this position, Zanka even had access to Jabber’s scent gland- a shiver travelled up his spine as he breathed in this odd fruity scent the alpha gave off. It was sweet, something Zanka recognized but could not name, but if he asked, he wouldn't be surprised if Jabber rambled on about whatever chemical he smelt of. In fact, with another inhale, Zanka could feel the small chuckle reverberate between them.
“Liking my scent, huh?”
Zanka hummed, burying his nose deeper into the other’s neck- his neck brushing against his nose at the movement. Feeling the groves of Jabber’s bond mark, a match to his own teeth, of course, with his nose.
“It’s benzaldehyde, or something like it, I think…”
He added- he could only nod once again. He didn’t have the vast knowledge of chemicals Jabber had, but what he did know was of the many chemicals his scent mimicked in scent alone- each one was dizzying in the way it filled his head with its potency.
“Is’ fruity..”
Another chuckle shook them both, Jabber leaning to nip at his own mark. Tracing teeth marks so carefully placed, ensuring the proper placement, allowing the other to access it easily through a gentle pull of his shirt collar.
Shifting once again, Zanka could softly feel the way his alpha’s scent calmed whatever storm was brewing under his skin. Hands, calloused yet soft in their mannerisms, traced his spine. Boney at the way it jutted out- finger tips racing his ribs. As if counting every bone, Jabber hummed each number. Mankira gently pulled along, raised with each bump, warm against his skin despite her metal constitution.
It shouldn’t surprise him anymore, but it always did. Hell, Lovely was always warm in his hands. Even if he hadn’t held her for a rather long time, those periods of time he made sure to apologize tenfold. Sometimes, Jabber would joke, setting up Lovely and Mankira together- earning an eye roll from Zanka as he scoffed- ‘Lovely is a sophisticated lady,’ he would retort, Jabber quick with his own, ‘I know Lovely is begging to be with Mankira.’
Zanka shifted once again, trying to get his hips to fall in just the right way to relieve some of the pain. But, who was he kidding- nothing was working for soothing the ache. Pulling away, blue met magenta, a desperation reflected to him. A shiver travelled up his spine, from the cold wind that got in his room from the window he forgot to close.
“Jabber?”
“Hmm?”
With a tilt of his head, Jabber leaned toward him.
“Would Mankira happen to have some painkillers?”
A smile spread across the other's face as he brought his hands to his face. Zanka held Jabber’s hand to his face. Longer knobby hands tracing metal rings decorating calloused digits.
“She does.”
As if to accentuate his point, Jabber activated Mankira, oh so close to his face. But, even without the bond, Zanka felt nothing but trusting relief- not even so much as flinching at the sudden blades so close. The thought of his aching muscles relaxing enough to fall back asleep encompassed his mind.
Nowadays, Zanka hardly feels the pin prick of Mankira, now only knowing of the rhythmic motion of Jabber’s thumb as he massages the injection site. The soft circular touch slows as Zanka’s eyes begin to droop. No longer kept up by the cramps set on keeping him awake. Jabber’s hands travel to his shoulder blades, grazing along sensitive skin before going down, kneading into the tense muscle of his lower back.
Lulling him to a peaceful sleep- one that is later interrupted by Rudo trying to sneak into his nest in the early morning.
_____________________________
His obscenely irregular cycle and extremely painful cramps should have been a red flag. A blaringly obvious indicator of his body fully maturing. Even though Zanka was prepared for it, at least he thought he was, his heat matured once he turned 18.
Along with the theatrics the Cleaners were known for when celebrating a birthday, a small ebbing dread settled in his stomach at the idea of his heats no longer being multiple days of just bleeding and spending time in his nest.
And, despite his family's insistence on shoving down their biological urges to the point of unhealthy coping mechanisms erupting, they still valued the point of at least being aware of what was going on. He was unfortunately privy to how in-depth Kyouka’s knowledge was about ruts, and Goka’s general information about both omega and alpha cycles. So, when he opened the dusty, worn pages of the textbook his family owned about orientations… he was surprised to see the omega section was a little lackluster.
Naively, he had thought that maybe they were just that simple. The initial bouts of a menstrual cycle that eventually mature and separate into a period and heat. The days and frequency in which they occurred depend on the omega in question. Seemed simple enough.
But apparently those textbooks were as old as the Sphere itself, apparently, and held a continued tradition of pushing omega studies aside for more interesting points- like alphas... Looking back, even a younger Zanka rolled his eyes at the blatant sexism bleeding through every sentence. But it was his only source of information at the time. Omega’s were already rare as it was, and studies on their biology were even rarer.
So, to say the textbooks of the Kamuatari district didn’t prepare him for the inexplicable urge to pin down Jabber in ways that asserted dominance over the alpha would be an understatement.
Zanka would later learn, by a bright red Eisia, that givers exhibited slightly different dynamics. More specifically, with their mates, as something about sharing a soul with an inanimate object affected primal biological roles. That and the possibility of the ground pollution altering hormone levels and subsequently dynamics from what they were initially.
Something that many didn’t bother researching, nor was there much information on anyway, except for small speculations.
Zanka was taught his role, read about it, was lectured about, and had insults thrown at him by classmates about it. To be the submissive omega that rolled over, lost in the throes of heat despite his own mind's insistence to not act in such a way. It ached to have the looming inevitability that his body would force him to relax, take whatever treatment it was given, and roll out of bed like it didn’t go against his own rationale. It kept him up at night to think that Jabber would have to deal with another side of him. Not their usual equal temperance in bed, but rather a display of dominance of the other over him…
So imagine his surprise when his mature heat started, a few months after turning 18. Every month leading up to it held that daunting expectation of his period being replaced by flustered bouts, flushed skin against his equally hot mate. And instead of experiencing the textbook symptoms of a heat starting, Zanka felt the urge to immediately take Jabber over the lounge's couch or any other surface he could get him over…
He had never run out of a room faster!
Face turned red, as he could hear Jabber yelp as Enjin stopped him from following him back to their room.
Whether Enjin was threatening Jabber, giving him a pep talk, or whatever- It didn’t matter! Not to his frazzled mind, as thoughts of his alpha coming undone by his own hand bombarded his mind.
Just the idea of pinning Jabber’s hands above his head, tracing Mankira with his thumb, as he worked his own slick into- OKAY, with a shake of his head, Zanka ran faster to his room. Not even pausing to return Follo’s wave, not a glance to Riyo, who had just come back from a mission. He couldn’t look anyone in the eyes as he could feel heat crawl up his neck, slick pooling in his underwear, and the general scented pleasantry of digging your nose into a fresh basket of laundry wafted over the hallway.
Really, slamming his door open and shutting it just as aggressively was not needed- but to him, at that moment, he had felt so out of control that the simple action came easily.
Panicked eyes darted across the room, trying to find a spot to fully hide. Hide from what? Zanka wasn’t too sure of himself. His instincts? Jabber? That base feeling of a sudden wrongness for his backwards lustful thoughts towards his alpha?
It didn’t matter, since Zanka already chose where to hide. Right underneath his bed, pulling at the blanket Jabber had scented that morning. Covered in that sickly sweet chemical aroma, Zanka loved to inhale and get dizzy from it.
Even just holding it made him hyper aware of his pants now becoming soaked with slick. No longer contained by his underwear, Zanka couldn’t help the desperate wail that came from the base of his throat. Rushing to get his mate's scent all over him, as saliva built in his mouth. Despite only recently renewing each other’s mark, the flush of hormones made Zanka want to claim the alpha all over again.
To see the blissed out euphoric expression fall upon Jabber’s face, as his hisses of pain bled into moans that made his gut curl with a deeper desire.
Pulling the fabric against his face, it began to bunch between his legs. His cock was already hard as his hips twitched and rutted against the blanket. Another wail left him, slowly morphing into a breathy moan. A sound cut short as the sound of the door opening stopped Zanka’s jutting hips.
It felt as if breathing in icy air that had been consumed by freshly fallen snow. Polluted by the environment's chemical odors, but to Zanka, it gave new light to the fire burning deep in his core. But his body remained frozen, hidden under the bed as his eyes watched the feet of his alpha pad around the room. No doubt trying to find him.
Just as Jabber turned to the bathroom, Zanka’s hand flew out from beneath the bed, grabbing onto the other’s ankle and pulling him to the ground. The fall looked to hurt, but Zanka knew the alpha wouldn’t mind a bruised tailbone anyway.
As Jabber blinked in rapid succession, trying to get his eyes to focus after just hitting the floor, his pupils widened to a comical degree at the sight above him. Zanka, flushed red and sitting on his lap. Slick, soaked pants rubbing against his own growing erection.
With a moan to match the other’s, Jabber held onto the omega’s hips- jutting his own against the wetness above him, only to have his hands ripped away, pinned above him as his mate looked down with eyes not entirely there.
“Nuh-uh Jabba~ keep your hands up there..”
Zanka sounded out of breath already, but with the grip he had on his wrist only told Jabber to nod to his omega. His oh so strong omega, that could break his femur in 3 places, and he would thank him for every fracture.
Carefully, as if savoring the heat emanating off Jabber’s skin, Zanka let his hands delicately trail down his wrist, feeling veins down his arm, cupping his face before leaning in for a searing kiss. Effectively drowning any moans escaping the alpha as the omega explored the expanses of his torso. Pulling the other’s tank top to feel every scar, raised skin, lean muscle jumping at every sudden touch.
Parting from the man beneath him, Zanka gave him a droopy smile, seeing them still connected by a thin trail of saliva. Jabber mirrored him, heaving out heavy breaths between them- eyes glistening that brilliant magenta pink despite Mankira remaining the same.
With a tilt of his head, Zanka brought his cheek to Jabber’s before asking,
“Ya…ya love me, right Jabba?”
The question almost knocked the wind out of him, the sudden disruption in the mood- but Zanka’s eyes still looked clouded with his heat. But lying beneath held something akin to embarrassment, worry, and hesitation.
A look he hated to see, not his confident mate, whatever shook him this much needed to be stopped.
“‘Course baby-” Jabber emphasized by turning his head, kissing the other gently but no less desperate for the other’s taste on his tongue “-take all ya’ want.”
Zanka relaxed above him, breathing coming easier as he lost himself in the feeling of Jabber underneath him. Looking back, Zanka should have known. His own fear and unprecedented worries were just that- fictional and unheard of. To think Jabber, of all people, would conform to standard dynamics was silly to think of. And even then, to hear those words out of his mouth only established the other’s devotion.
Truly, looking down, Zanka’s imagination didn’t do his mate any justice. Seeing the real thing, his alpha quivering beneath him, hot to the touch, sent a shiver up his spine.
With Jabber’s assurance, Zanka quickly removed any barriers between them. Completely bare, not an unusual sight, but now, the heat aided only in making the slick gush out faster. But Zanka was nothing but patient. He had to be when Jabber was his partner.
His hands went further down. Jabber watched closely as he lifted the other’s legs. Sadly, unlike Zanka himself, Jabber needed preparation before he went further. While Zanka did not have any lube on hand, he had something even better.
Bringing Jabber’s ankle to his shoulder, it gave Zanka the chance to reach between his own legs. Feeling the soft folds, sensitive and wanting to be stretched open on Jabber’s cock- by that thought, his hand was covered in a new flood of his own slick.
Magenta eyes watched on, the alpha’s fang hooking on his lip as Zanka circled his rim, pushing slightly. Only as he was able to get a finger past the tight ring of muscle did a hefty moan escape Jabber’s lips.
“Mmm~ Right there baby~”
His breath hitches, the heavy moans, the feeling of twitching muscle under his palm only egged Zanka on. Only when Jabber began to quiet down did Zanka add another finger. Siscorring them to try and get the alpha to open up to him. Despite his focus being on his fingers disappearing inside Jabber, he still caught the other reaching for his weeping cock. Trying to rub one out in the same momentum his fingers pumped in and out.
Reaching a free hand to the other’s Zanka held on to them, pulling Jabber up to the point their foreheads touched- his ankle falling off his shoulder to the floor. Hot breaths between them, as blue and magenta met.
“Wadda-I say? Hmm?”
With the sudden rub against a particularly spongy part inside Jabber, the alpha jolted, wrapping his arms around Zanka’s shoulders. The position wasn’t ideal, nor what he had in mind, but Zanka was nothing but adaptive. Once he felt as if Jabber was stretched enough, he removed his fingers, an action met with a heady whine.
They didn’t have condoms- well, Zanka couldn’t get the alpha pregnant, sadly…
“C’mon Zanka!” -Oh, he must have been lost in thought-
“Wadya want alpha?”
It looked like Jabber contemplated the question for a second; maybe he wasn’t at all, and only held his tongue for suspense.
“I want my amazing omega to fuck me into the hardwood.”
Maybe if Zanka were any other omega, he would have steadily refused- Those weren’t the proper dynamics, some would argue.
But just like his alpha, Zanka wasn’t just any other omega. He was the omega mated to the ex-raider who poisoned himself for fun. The disgraced Nijiku, who managed to become a giver despite everything.
So, with those words left in the air, Zanka surged forward- pinning the man beneath him, entering not so slowly. But with how loudly Jabber whined in pleasure, he didn’t seem to mind. As with fervour, Zanka thrusted just as quickly as Jabber, pushing back against him. His own slick trailed down his legs to the floor as his cock continued to feel the hot pressure surrounding it.
Looking down, he could see the way Jabber’s own cock bounced between them- aching for release as Zanka chased his own. A release that he could feel himself steadily coming to, and without a knot, they wouldn’t be connected for very long.
But just the thought of filling Jabber with his own seed, seeing his navel swell slightly, cradling the other to his chest as they waited for his knot to deflate- pushed him over the edge. With a final thrust, he came inside, feeling Jabber twitch under his fingers, as the other experienced his own dry orgasm.
Pulling away felt wrong, but Zanka wanted to see his own work. The way Jabber came undone by his own hand- truly, the sight would be ingrained in his mind.
Maybe it was the haze his mind underwent as his high came down, maybe it was because Zanka let his guard down- but he didn’t notice when Jabber sat back up. Recovering faster than he did, hissing as he pulled away, hand going between his legs gathering whatever cum managed to escape. Zanka’s seed coated Jabber’s fingers,
“It’s almost like I’m the omega,” he chuckled, having his fingers play around with the mix of cum and slick, stringing between his digits.
But the sight was promptly licked away by Jabber- savoring it as he rolled his own eyes at his mate. Doing so made Zanka very aware of Jabber’s still hard cock- remembering that the alpha didn’t cum properly, his face reddened once again.
Jabber leaned in, kissing along his temple, down to his neck.
“Ya, good for another round?”
He pondered for a second before nodding-
“Gonna need a verbal response, Zan-Zan.”
Zanka rested his chin on Jabber’s shoulder,
“I’m good for another round, as long as it's on the bed.”
While Jabber might not mind the hardwood, Zanka very much did. The one time they did it on the floor- a decision he had stupidly made due to just cleaning his nest- not only were his hips sore, but his shoulder blades and tailbone ached as well.
“Of course, darling~.”
Despite his insistence on not liking the names, his body betrayed him as he rubbed up against Jabber- his own cock hardening again to the growing want deep in his stomach.
After promptly yelling at his mate to put down a towel, Zanka lay on his bed, blankets pushed to the side, with a mental note to clean them later.
If Zanka wasn’t so damn tired, he would be on top again, riding Jabber until the sun shone through his curtains. But he supposed that was the price of a heat- everything encompassed in blinding pleasure, but oh so tiring afterwards.
He was happy to lie on his arched back, arms encircling Jabber’s neck as kiss after kiss was left on his skin. Mankira, warm, smooth metal, mapping a body it knew so fondly. With the growing puddle of slick under his ass, Zanka would need to ask for a water break- but his mind was filled with the idea of Jabber inside him. Flushed against his folds, his large cock was causing pressure to build deep in his stomach.
An idea that was realized when Jabber lined himself with his entrance. Sighing with blissed out pleasure as Zanka became flushed with the base. He knew it was taking Jabber everything not to pop his knot then and there, but at this point in the night, he wouldn’t mind if he did.
Only when Jabber began a steady rocking back and forth did Zanka feel as if he was drowning in pleasure. Softs pleads for more left his mouth, purrs shaking his ribs from their intensity. Jabber matched the rumbling sound with his own as his hands held onto his waist. Fingers unable to meet, thumbs bordering the edge of where his cock would technically be, pushing up into.
Zanka had the unfortunate pleasure of catching glimpses of porn magazines passed around his school, some of actual women, others of omegas. A problem that was quickly resolved, but no less troublesome. He had remembered seeing the dramatic blissed faces of omega women, with heavily distended stomachs from their alpha’s cock alone- it looked painful.
Which made Jabber’s size all the more perfect. It hit all the right spots, pain rarely came with sex- really, the one in the most pain was usually Jabber. And the only distention came from the smallest swell, as his alpha knotted and came deep inside him.
A feeling he was now chasing as Jabber’s thrusts became more desperate, skin slapping skin, slick coming faster and faster as Zanka’s second orgasm hit him like a freight train. Only to be followed by Jabber’s, feeling the searing heat of his cum fill him. Knot catching at folds too slick to hold onto anything. But Jabber knew to stay put, knew to keep their hips flush against each other in an effort to keep everything inside.
The alpha practically collapsed on top of him, whispering compliments, loving remarks- anything to get Zanka’s tightly wound muscles to relax from the recent orgasm. Even petting along his bond mark, up to his jaw.
They stayed connected, for who knows how long. Zanka didn’t mind; the only thing that was a bother was this whisper of something he felt he was forgetting. Like a nagging feeling, but it didn’t really matter now, did it? Now that he had a pleasant first true heat with his mate.
That feeling can be pushed down for him to worry about later.