Work Text:
“I hate you.”
“I hate you more.”
“I hate you the most.”
“I hate you forever.”
Is a conversation most people wouldn't think would happen between lovers, and just makes Enjin narrow his eyes in disgust. The couple in question, Jabber up against a counter, Zanka over him, looking at each other with a gaze that makes him want to leave.
“Get a room!” Enjin shouts, a slight chuckle in his voice as he picks up his drink, and walks out of the kitchen.
Zanka screams and falls onto the floor, with how aggressively she moves away from Jabber, watching him leave the room with wide eyes.
Recently, on a mission they had been sent on together, they had an argument that turned out with the mission being extended a few hours. Their lack of synchronicity ended with them being given an assignment by possibly the most benevolent woman in the cleaners, Ms Semiu.
With Zanka being a control freak, and Jabber having an urge to piss her off at any place that arises, one of the most classic things arose.
Cooking a dessert, with the exception of Zanka can't do anything and just have Jabber yap while she does, they will work together, otherwise the rare occasion they are sent on missions together (Zanka and Jabber are both extremely heavy hitters, with him getting any ounce of adrenaline |There's only been one time he has been genuinely panicked, or had adrenaline on a mission, and it was when the beast seemed to be able to take all of team Akuta plus him and injured his partner. It was then destroyed in a matter of minutes so they could get her to Eishia| he’s able to do the job of several, and the girl being above average makes solo or duo missions with less experienced cleaners common.) will become nonexistent. I hope you would be able to tell that this isn't something they want; their schedules are ever-changing, and the time that they get to spend together has decreased substantially.
Regardless, the only time they were able to do this was late at night, and due to a layer of sleep deprivation, as well as missing each other much more than they are emotionally competent to talk about or express well, is leading us to our scene.
Zanka, wearing a 'kiss the cook' apron, which she recognizes from the few times Enjin's cooked. Jabber wears an adorable around-the-waist thing, with an outfit that makes her sure that he visited Amo for dress up before this.
A ragged sigh leaves Zanka as she climbs off the floor (Jabber offered a hand; she looked like she had wanted to hiss at him.) Backing up to the counter.
"So what are we making?" Jabber asks, leaning against the opposite side of the counter and looking at her with an eyebrow raised and a calm expression.
Zanka rustled through her pockets for a moment (even in her home clothes, she always needs to have an insane amount. There is a reason she never likes clothes not made by August because, for some reason, women don't deserve pockets.) And pulls out a small piece of paper. Placing it down, she looks at it, hands on the counter as she leans over and squints slightly.
Jabber always found her focused expression adorable.
"Grab two of the pans from the under the oven thingy," she says, turning away and looking through the place, taking out the ingredients needed, and placing them on the island.
Jabber takes out the baking pans, placing two round ones on top of the oven.
“What temperature for the oven?” Jabber asks as he looks over at Zanka, who's grabbing utensils.
She pauses and walks back over to the paper, “Uhhhh, 350.”
Jabber makes a face before setting the oven and walking back over to the island, looking over what they have out before walking back to grab some bowls.
“So, what are we doing next, Ms. Bad Attitude?” He asks, a smile on his face as he sets the bowls down.
Zanka starts putting the flour, sugar, salt, and baking soda in front of her and puts the eggs, vanilla, milk, and almost extract in front of Jabber's. “It says to combine the dry ingredients in one bowl and then the wet ones in another.”
Jabber raises an eyebrow.
“Why do you have the sugar then?”
Zanka puts a hand on her hip and looks at him like he's stupid, “Because it's a dry ingredient?”
Jabber nods his head and looks at the blueberries and lemons that she didn't sort.
“And where do we put the blueberries?”
Zanka takes them and pulls them over to her side, and Jabber loses his battle not to giggle.
“Is something funny, mutt?”
“One, zamn, you ain't gotta pull that out, two. We put sugar and produce in the wet ingredients.”
Zanka narrows her eyes, and her posture against the counter becomes a bit more rigid.
“Oh yeah? And how do you know that?”
Jabber resorts the ingredients around their bowls and walks back over to the drawer to get two whisks. “Because Amo wanted cupcakes for one of our sleepovers.”
Zanka makes a face but relaxes some, measuring out three cups of flour and putting it in her bowl. She looks over at Jabber.
“It was a while back, we blasted some music, which caused Tamsy to visit for a little.” He cracks two eggs into his own bowl, and he talks as he whisks them, “Which. I think we all know how I feel about that guy.”
She hums and measures out two teaspoons of baking powder, picking up her whisk and mixing it. Jabber hates that guy; she doesn't have any idea why, and when asked, he will just say something about his vibe being off. She doesn't know what constitutes a vibe being off, but she doesn't question it. When they coincidentally pass him in the halls, she always has to smack him to get him to stop staring.
“Apparently, he likes metal. Been showing Amo some of my stuff, she's liking some stuff heavier than I thought she would.” Putting an arm out, she shakes Zanka’s. “Vro, our daughter’s gonna have peak taste!”
Zanka shakes her head, realizing she's been stirring just flour and baking soda the entire time, and tilts her head slightly. “If it yer music taste shes gettin’ i don't know if peak is the word i’d use.”
Jabber picks up the milk and pours a cup into his bowl, then puts 2/3s cup of sugar in, mixing slowly and allowing the sugar to dissolve. “I don't know what you're talking about. My music taste is-”
“Incoherent screeching?”
Jabber raises his hands in surrender, “Hey, some of it’s incoherent screaming.”
He puts emphasis on that, like it changes anything.
“You’re raising her to be-” Zanka pauses.
“You know, show her what she wants. If she wants to listen to screaming, wants to damage her ears, that's fine by me.” She shakes her shoulders in an absent-minded gesture of being slightly upset.
Jabber raises a brow, staying quiet for a moment as he gets 2/3rds cup of vegetable oil and measures out 2 teaspoons of vanilla.
“So, wanna talk about whatever just happened to you? Why’d ya get so pissy, like, randomly?”
She puts a teaspoon of salt into her bowl and narrows her eyes at him before taking a breath and forcing herself to relax. “You know when you talk, and someone else's words leave your mouth? I shouldn't care about what music she listens to-, but if I find out you gave her that set of headphones you made- specifically to be loud, I will kill you.” She shakes her head.
“Whatever, I'm done getting my shit together, finish.”
He smiles over at her, and it turns into a smirk. He’s cut off from making his joke by Zanka glaring at him. “You’re no fun anymore! Would you mind rising off the blueberries and grabbing me a knife?”
She mutters something about Jabber making her do all the work, which makes the man laugh as she picks up the container and walks over to the sink, picking up one of the knives.
“Heads up!” She throws it behind her and turns on the sink, rinsing off the fruit for a moment before walking back and placing them down.
“I need you to know how close you were to murdering me just then,” Jabber laughs, still holding the knife as he did when he caught it initially, by the blade of it. “Bro, is this the second time you’ve almost killed me while we tried to cook?”
Zanka scowls before she sees how he’s practically glowing. “I think there is something, very, very, wrong with you.”
“Yeah, well..”
He slices the lemons in half and pours the blueberries in.
“I am going to- not make any comments!”
Zanka chuckles and watches as Jabber bores his fingers into the lemon. “Wise choice.”
Jabber juices the lemon, putting the seeds in his palm, then in a smaller bowl on the counter. “Bro, I have so many tiny like cuts on my hands.”
He looks up at her, “What?”
He backs up in mock surrender and starts using the knife to collect some of the outside of it.
“What, am I not allowed to look at the mother fucker that caused it? Ya gnaw on my hands constantly, only makes sense.”
“Oh yeah, definitely not how ya caress any knife ya see.”
Grumbling, he does the same process to the other lemon. He turns his head over to Zanka after, seeming not to pick up on her sarcasm.
“Yeah! Makes more sense,”
Zanka walks over and sprays the pans down, ignoring how, as she walks back towards Jabber while doing so, he attempts to bite at it like a dog on a water hose.
Silence pervades the kitchen as they put the layers into the oven after pouring in the batter.
“Aight i got an idea for this frosting thing, lemme take a whack at it?”
Zanka, fully aware that Jabber has no baking experience outside of that one other night he shared with Amo, sighs. She nods.
“What do you have in mind?”
Jabber moves the dirty bowls to the sink and picks up some others from the counter, bringing them to the island, “Grab me some blueberries and more lemons.”
Doing as he asks, she carries the ingredients over and looks at him. Pulling a stool over, she looks at how Jabber's eyes are so bright, and can tell that he’s going to be dictating this with the prose of a mad scientist during a long since awaited thunderstorm.
“Okie,” Zanka thinks about how Jabber’s 19 and extremely skilled, saying with full seriousness, " Okie, as he cuts open the lemons. “So, we’re raw dogging this next part, look, you know, like,”
He walks over to the oven and pulls out the drawer, taking out two sauce pans. “Like, I have you smush the blueberries, we like to strain them or whatever, so we have that- no!”
Handing Zanka the blueberries and a bowl, she looks around and is handed a potato masher. “We mush them, then we like,” His hands shake as he tries to figure out how to articulate what he's saying.
“Put sugar, the like, almond, and vanilla, in there with the blueberries. Add some water if the liquid from the blueberries isn't enough.”
“Then we use the leftover blueberries to mix in the buttercream!”
Zanka raises a brow but figures it's not her ass that's gonna be beat if they fuck it up, so she doesn't exactly care.
“Wouldn't the flavors be a bit much?”
“They wanted blueberry lemon, so they’re getting fucking blueberry lemon.”
She wasn't expecting that level of deadly seriousness or that level of importance in his tone.
“Also. The blueberry would be like the main flavor, and I think that since we’re using that more than the lemon, it would make it to be like lemonade, but with blueberries instead of sugar?”
“That sounds horrible, Jabber.”
He pouts.
“Well, you sound horrible. Look it too.”
He sticks his tongue out.
Jabber spends a few minutes throwing together his concoction, Zanka drawing a leg up to her chest and watching him. She could get used to watching him cook.
By the time he gets done with his concoctions, they still have time before the layers are ready, so Jabber uses his time wisely. The only way he knows how.
“Zaaaaaaaaaaaaanka,” He's lying on top of the island, upside down, and staring at her.
“What.”
“Am I not allowed-”
“You've already used that card today.” She intrurrupts, an eyebrow raising as her head tilts.
He grumbles and spends the next few minutes talking to Zanka about everything that crosses his little mind. Eventually, he shoots up in his place, and he rolls off the island with a loud thud.
“It's done!”
“How do you know that already? Our timer hasn't even-”
She's stopped when he takes it out of the oven (with his bare hands, mind you), and it looks perfectly done. A slight domed shape on the top, golden browned in a way that makes her stomach rumble.
“Damn”
“Damn is right!”
He places them on the island, praying that the cool of the counters means they can get this done with sooner. Yeah, he loves his girlfriend, but it's almost two am, and he had work today.
They wait. Jabber hated waiting; it's one of his least favorite things, it's boring, and painful in a way even he doesn't like.
“Okie,” He picks up one of the pans once Zanka can touch it without flinching and flips it upside down, sighing as it comes out perfectly. Zanka didn't fuck up her application.
“Zanka, go grab a plate.”
She listens and wonders why Jabber's ordering her around so much. Isn't she supposed to be the- no. No ‘alpha’. Her brain feels like it's starting to turn to mush. Why did they choose to do this at night? She feels exhausted, and now she's saying dumb shit. Dumb shit isn't a rarity in their house, but still, normally it's coming from jabber or Rudo. She's been listening to Enjin too much. She's not the alpha male, and if she thinks that again, she's killing Enjin. Anyway, she wonders why she's listening to it.
She sets the plate down, and he nods his head, setting one of the cakes onto it with careful hands, and uses a spoon to put the blueberry-sugar thing he made into the center of it, spreading it evenly before he sets the other on top of it and starts to work on the buttercream application. Zanka walks in and offers a hand, which has a spatula put onto it. When they finish, it doesn't look perfect. No, it honestly kinda looks like shit. The icing is a weird light blue color, with little chunks of blueberry on it, and the icing is to the point where it's visible that it was done by two sleep-deprived teenagers.
“I think this might be the most beautiful thing I've laid eyes on.”
Zanka scoffs and picks up the plate, making sure to make it not touch her shirt. “Jabber, go grab a knife and another plate.”
Jabber starts going through the kitchen and procures a few plates and a knife. He follows Zanka as she makes her way to the front desk.
“Semiu, we did the thing,” She says as she places the larger plate on the desk.
The woman's eyes widen slightly, taken off guard by the kid's random appearance.
“I didn't think y'all would actually do that shit!” She laughs, and Zanka deadpans.
She waves her hand, and Jabber cuts her a slice. “Nah, give me some of that.”
A plate is handed to her, and she takes a fork from her lunchbox and makes a face at the taste.
“So?”
“Not as horrible as it looks,” She nods as she takes another bite.
Zanka's content with that.
Over the next several minutes, they wander around, wondering what the fuck one does with a cake at two in the morning, until they hear noises coming from Amo’s room.
“Open the fuck up!” Jabber bangs on the door and hears scrambling and panicked whispering.
After a moment, Amo opens the door, eyes wide and sweet while she holds a hand behind her back.
“Hi BeeBee!”
“So, why’re ya up at two am?” Zanka asks, trying very hard to seem intimidating while holding this monstrosity.
Amo smiles and shakes her head a little-
(“Amo wants to know what you and Beebee are doing up so late,” She pouts, and Zanka's eyes twitches.
“You need to stop taking sass from your father, also I asked ya first!”)
Jabber takes a slice of cake from Zanka and walks into Amo's room, walking to her closet and closing his eyes as he opens it and hands it directly to Rudo. He walks his happy ass back to the door and hands Amo one.
“Do you have work tomorrow?” Jabber asks, uncaring that he interrupted whatever Zanka was saying.
“With Ms. Semiu, Amo is helping her with paperwork in the morning!”
Zanka tries to talk again, but Jabber covers her mouth with his hand.
“Does your little boyfriend have a mission?”
Zanka grumbles something, but Amo needs to be able to communicate properly with both them and her partner, so she needs to shut up.
“Rudo has a mission with Ms. Zanka in the morning.”
“Go to sleep soon,”
She nods her head, and they leave the teens be.
Very quickly, it turns into delivering cake to any stray, probably very tired cleaners, and giving them a slice of their sub-par but not horrible cake.
Once they finally get back to their room, (Zanka's room, Jabber has one, but it's mostly for storage, and when she's angry at him |when she gets angry, she's more clingy, she's just lying to herself, in reality its more so when they have missions at inconvenient times and don't want to wake each other up| but it doesn't see much use) Zanka collapses on her bed.
Jabber follows soon, thudding on top of her.
“I can't believe Semiu was trolling us.”
Jabber laughs and rolls over, kicking his shoes off and snuggling into Zanka's side.
“I can.”
The room is dark. The lights buzz slightly, she can hear Jabber's breath, and feels his heart beat in his chest from how close he is.
She loves it. She loves it so much, it makes every single late night like this, where she feels like her eyes are trying to pop out of her skull, every argument, bad comment, and shitty day all worth it.
"I love you, you dumbass."
"I love you, you freak."