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It all starts on date night.
Date night. A scheduled day where one Jabber Wonger would have an actual, legitimate date with one Zanka Nijiku. Instituted by Zanka who was, quote, “Tired of your ass coming over with pizza and dick and calling it a date.”
Jabber had protested at first because, “Why go through all them bells and whistles when I can just give you the food and the dick you know ya want?”
Zanka, in response, had decided to refuse said dick until Jabber finally agreed to “go out to dinner, damn.”
So now it’s date night.
Where it all starts.
The two are sitting in one of those restaurants that claim to fly in some kind of meat or spice from its country of origin while giving a full PowerPoint presentation of the menu. Jabber wants to complain, mostly because he likes it when Zanka explodes, but he’s a little awestruck at how good his boyfriend looks in this kind of setting. He’ll make fun of him for being a rich kid who knows what market price is later, of course, but for now, he’s enjoying how Zanka can pronounce the foods with French names and the way his eyes look under the low lights of the restaurant.
“What?” Zanka asks when he realizes that Jabber’s staring.
“Nothing, you look nice is all.”
“Oh.” Zanka waits a few seconds as if he thinks it’s a trap. When Jabber doesn’t follow up with anything else, he takes a risk and says, “Yeah, you too.”
Jabber smiles. Not one of those smiles that looks too big for his face. It’s a nice smile, somewhere between unhinged and sleepy cat — the modes Zanka is typically used to with Jabber. He’s got his locs tied back, but there’s one on each side of his face like they’re framing a portrait, one of those museum-worthy ones that people look at and analyze the various definitions of beauty.
Zanka locks in on his glass of water. If he looks at Jabber any longer, his heart might do something embarrassing, like skip a beat, or whatever phrase is used when love threatens to shatter your composed image.
But that is the purpose of date night, right? To have these soft moments where they look into each other's eyes for something other than bickering? To openly admit to things like love without it being one of those bad “no one cares about me” mental days or one of those good “this is my third orgasm and I’m happily babbling nonsense” days. Nights like tonight are where you say things freely, not like their usual circumstances where there’s a chance one of them snaps the words out because they’re mid-argument about something trivial that’s been escalated to comical levels.
So Zanka takes a deep breath and looks at Jabber.
And Jabber looks back at him.
And time stands still for a moment, magenta and blue caught in each other’s orbit. Someone reaches for the other’s hand across the table, or maybe they meet each other halfway. It’s all sweaty palms and fast beating hearts with gentle smiles that are usually reserved for hidden moments when one is watching the other sleep. It’s as captivating as it is strange, at least for them, the couple whose idea of quality time is often some sort of competitive, potentially relationship-ending video game, board game, or, gasp, figuring out what to have for dinner.
Neither one dares to speak, afraid they’ll shatter whatever’s happening between them. A normal couple would be able to spin sweet words to enhance the moment, maybe talk about concepts like forever with their loved one. Zanka’s a thousand percent certain he’s incapable of doing such a thing, and Jabber would definitely double down on that estimation. They aren’t like those other couples who are made of sugar, spice, and-
“Oh my GOD, yes, yes OF COURSE I’ll marry you!”
Jabber and Zanka immediately let go of each other’s hands and turn their attention toward the sudden commotion. Over in the center of the restaurant is [a person, it ain’t important] on one knee, putting a ring on [another person’s, still ain’t important] finger as several onlookers try their best not to cry. Once the ring is fully in place, everyone erupts into applause, the [not important people] embracing each other to fully commit to the engagement.
Jabber looks at Zanka.
Zanka looks at Jabber.
They’re the only two not clapping their hands, the sound drowning out whatever thoughts they’re having. Even the wait staff is joining the celebration, momentarily forgetting to serve tables in favor of congratulating the couple, even offering free dessert to commemorate the moment.
That, somehow, breaks the spell for Jabber. “Aw man, you get free dessert if you get engaged? That ain’t fair.”
“Jabber!”
“Oooooh, someone’s gonna get maaaaarried, let's give them caaaaake.” Jabber’s hands are pressed against his heart as he bats his eyelashes, his voice light and airy in an attempt to imitate the patrons at the restaurant who are, by now, being recorded and posted on social media with hashtag relationship goals. “They already gonna get cake at the ceremony, yeah? Why do they need a free one right now?”
“Because they get to file taxes together, duh.”
Jabber snorts out a laugh that Zanka joins him in. “Congrats on combinin’ last names, here’s some cake,” Jabber says, still laughing. “It ain’t that big of a deal!”
“It really ain’t! In fact, we should get free cake for knowing that it ain’t a big deal.”
“We should!”
“Yeah!”
“Yeah!”
“... I wanna marry Jabber.”
The words cause all activity to stop for Zanka’s friend group when he gets back from his date. Despite the lack of true privacy, sharing a big ol’ house with the people you tolerate the most in the world was made for moments like this.
“Yeah, no shit you wanna marry Zanka,” Cthoni says, lounging in a chair and looking at Jabber like he just discovered that water is, in fact, wet. “Are you just now figuring that out?”
“That can’t be possible.” Zodyl doesn’t even bother to look up from the book he’s reading. “Jabber’s smarter than that. Surely he realized he wanted to marry him sooner than today.”
“I mean... I guess, maybe, the thought crossed my mind once or twice...”
“Once or twice?” Semiu laughs, actually laughs, and it’s not one of those cute laughs that she does when she’s still trying to look like the diva that she is. It’s full-on laughter, the kind that makes your stomach hurt as you forget how to breathe because you’re laughing too much. Of all the nights for her to not be flirting her way into some beautiful woman’s home for sex, sleep, and breakfast in the morning, she had to pick the night of Zanka’s marriage epiphany.
Zanka tries to seek out support from Enjin, but he’s laughing, too! And it’s a lot louder than it needs to be, in Zanka’s opinion, but he’ll never say that to Enjin’s face. “You’ve been in love with that dude for a while now, Zanka. Was wondering why you were draggin’ your feet about marriage.”
“Maybe because that guy sucks?”
“Rudo, be nice,” Riyo says, ruffling his hair as if it activates some sort of switch to get him to behave.
It doesn’t.
“Nope. He sucks.”
“What did he ever do to you, Noerde?” Cthoni asks.
Noerde is the only one not sitting in the living room. She’s standing, like she has to stay upright to show off her impressive height and glorious hair. “I dislike the company he keeps.”
Jabber tilts his head, not beating the accusations of him being similar to a cat. “That’s it?”
Noerde thinks for a moment, remembers wild red hair and an attitude as feisty as her own. She nods her head and says, “Yep. That’s it. Good luck with the proposal.”
“Huh? Oh, no, I ain’t gonna propose.”
That causes Zodyl to close his book down. “I beg your finest of pardons?”
“I ain’t proposing,” Zanka says firmly. “Nope. Ain’t no way in hell.”
Rudo blinks, mouth dropping open like a confused goldfish who’s just been put into a plastic bag and given away to a child. “But you just said you wanna marry him.” Sure, Rudo thinks Jabber is a weirdo who smells like old gym socks (he doesn’t, but he’s been trying to come up with new insults since Jabber yawned at his last attempt), but if Zanka wants to marry the guy… isn’t he supposed to propose?
“I know, but…”
“Ahhhhh, I get it.” How Riyo manages to always understand Zanka is beyond comprehension, even with her status as his, quote, “bestie.” She puts a hand on Zanka's shoulder and gives it a good, comforting squeeze. “You don’t wanna embarrass yourself, huh?”
“My man ain’t one of them sobbing into his napkin in the middle of a restaurant types, ya feel me?” As the President of the Zanka Nijiku Fan Club, Jabber knows this for a fact. “That’s what makes him so perfect. If I propose, he’s gonna laugh in my face cuz he don’t believe in all that lovey dovey crap.”
“I’d never live it down. He’d mock me for the rest of my life.” As Jabber Wonger’s number one source of entertainment, Zanka can already hear the haunting cackle echoing through his headspace. “Saw it for myself after we watched some couple get engaged in the middle of our date.
“… so you’re basing this on a reaction he had to someone else?”
Jabber nods, arms crossed like a professor who just gave the most important lecture of his life. He even pushes at the bridge of his nose with his finger as if he’s wearing glasses. “Correct, Zeeeee-Man!”
Zodyl’s not sure what’s giving him the biggest headache, Jabber’s incessant need to interrupt his reading with unnecessary couple’s drama… or the nickname and how much emphasis he puts on the Zee.
“Zee-Man, huh? That’s pretty funny.”
Zodyl can feel his eyebrow twitch when hearing the Southern drawl of Bundus, the eldest in the group who’s always two seconds away from telling stories in a rocking chair. Why he stays in a house with various levels of twenty-somethings instead of playing catch with the grandkids he probably has is anyone’s guess, but hey, he makes a mean pot of chili and is a coupon-clipping king who keeps their grocery bill manageable.
“Right?! But you gotta really stretch it out, you know? Zeeeeeeeeee-maaaaaaaaaan.”
“Zeeeeeeee-maaaaaaaan? Like that?”
“Yeah, that’s much better!”
The nickname. The nickname’s worse. If Zanka has any sense, he’ll break up with Jabber before any sort of I do.
“Dude. Just propose to him in private instead of in front of a bunch of people.”
Zanka sighs. He knows Rudo means well — at least that’s what Enjin says — but sometimes the boy can be oh so wonderfully off the mark. It’s almost cute. Almost. “Ya think that’s good enough for him?”
“I think you could give him a plastic ring from the bottom of a cereal box and that’d be good enough for him,” Enjin says.
“DUDE!” Rudo again. “They put rings in cereal?!”
“Will you focus, please?!” Zanka snaps. “My point is Jabber don’t like that kind of shit, okay? So under no circumstances…”
“… will I be the one…”
“… who proposes.”
“Period.”
It takes a week for Jabber and Zanka to have time for a proper attempt at a second date night — NOT because they’re trying to avoid the concept, no, not at all.
They’ve just been busy.
Yeah.
That’s it.
While neither had said anything about the incident out loud, they quietly decided to avoid fancy restaurants for… ever, possibly. At least for now. Besides, there’s plenty of other things they can do as a couple, right?
“A movie? Really?”
Jabber frowns when he sees the way Zanka’s looking at the theater. He loves him dearly, but sometimes, despite the distance he keeps from his overly judgmental, far too proper family, Zanka can be a little… Zanka about things. “You said you’d let me pick. Besides, it’s one of them fancy theaters that I know you’ll like.”
“Define fancy.”
“Heated seats that recline. Oh! And they’ll bring food out to ya!”
Zanka looks ready to give an oral history of what fancy really means, but he finds himself smiling over the effort. It is a genuine attempt, after all, and these scheduled dates were Zanka’s idea to begin with. It’s nice that Jabber’s even trying, and-
Fuck. His heart’s doing that thing again, that thing that leads to reckless ideas like proposals and no, nope, nope nope nope, they are not like those other couples. They spent last week making fun of them for a reason.
“Zan-Zan? Ya good?”
Oh.
So that’s how it is.
Jabber’s being sweet on purpose, right? To see if he can get Zanka to crack? That’s totally something he’d do. “Yep. Let’s check out what’s playing,” then Zanka walks forward before Jabber can notice the faint hint of red in his cheeks. Because no, he’s not BLUSHING over a movie date and an annoying desire to gather something old, new, borrowed, and blue.
“Okaaaaay…?”
Zanka doesn’t dignify Jabber’s confusion with a response.
Instead, he walks into the movie theater, holding the door open for an elderly couple walking toward the door. “Oh, what a kind young man,” one of them says, voice polite and ready to offer a perfectly wrapped peppermint candy. “You could learn somethin’ from him.”
Zanka blinks when he realizes that statement was directed toward the person’s spouse. A spouse who responds with an expertly crafted eye roll. “You mad at me for not makin’ it to the door fast enough? My love for you depends on a door now?”
“It ain’t about the door, genius. It’s about the intention behind holding open the door!”
“Oh heeeeere we go!”
“Yep, heeeeere we go.”
At this point Jabber’s made it over to Zanka and is moving his head back and forth, watching the older couple like a tennis match.
“I’ve held doors open for ya before!”
“Oh yeah? When?!”
“When we went out shoppin’ two weeks ago I held the door open for ya. I shouldn’t have, though, cuz ya went in and spent all my goddamn money.”
“Our money, ya old bat!”
“We should probably go…” Zanka whispers to Jabber, trying to quietly get his attention. When he doesn’t get a response he glances over at his boyfriend. “Jabber?”
Jabber doesn’t say anything, too focused on the elderly couple to realize that Zanka’s speaking to him.
Zanka’s seen Jabber look captivated by something before, usually something odd like a gnarly looking bug with too many legs, a vicious snake he wants to have slither over him, or some newly discovered toxic chemical combination. He’s never looked so “oh my god kittens in a basket” for other people — except for Zanka, of course, but never for some couple’s antics in public.
“Jabber. Earth to Jabber. Hellooooo…”
The drawn-out hello snaps Jabber out of it. “Huh? What’s up?”
“Ya spaced out. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, man. I’m good.”
“Cool.”
“Yeah. Cool.” Jabber pauses as the elderly couple finally wanders off to the concession stand, no doubt arguing over who’s buying the popcorn. “You know… those old folks kinda remind me of us.”
“Cuz of the bickering, yeah?” Zanka chuckles. “Guess that is like us.”
“Yeah. That’s totally gonna be us in, like, fifty years or some shit.”
“… you think we’re gonna still be together fifty years from now?”
Oh.
So that’s how it is.
Zanka had held the door open for that couple on purpose, right? So they could make Jabber’s heart melt into a bubbly ooze of sugary sweet feelings that make him think about shit like marriage and spending a lifetime with the one you argue with over who gets to use the remote. “Eh, maybe, I dunno, let’s get some popcorn.”
But there ain’t no way Jabber’s gonna fall into Zanka’s trap. No sir. He’s not mentally writing Jabber Wonger-Nijiku into the spiral-bound notebook of his mind, not because some gray-haired, retirement-thriving couple fought about doors.
“Okaaaaay…?”
Jabber doesn’t dignify Zanka’s confusion with a response.
“He’s doin’ this shit on purpose,” Zanka says like he’s presenting evidence to a team of investigators. Suspect? Jabber Wonger. Accused of planning a date in the hopes of one Zanka Nijiku proposing. “I mean he has to be, right?”
“Let me see if I understand this,” Zodyl says, slowly, like he’s talking to a child. “You think Zanka planted an old couple at the movies to make your heart beat so fast that you propose?”
“You wasn’t there, man.” Jabber’s pacing back and forth, too full of energy to sit still. “That couple was actin’ just like us! It had to be a trick!”
“But I stayed strong. His little plan didn’t work.”
“Good for you, sweetie.” Riyo smiles because that’s the kind of friend she is, but truth be told, she looks ready to go and ask Jabber his ring finger size on Zanka’s behalf if it’ll put a stop to these dating conspiracy theories. “So now what?”
“Now? Now, I prepare for him to retaliate.”
Enjin takes a breath and rubs his forehead. He loves Zanka dearly, more than happy to act as the big brother he technically has but also never had, but when he gets like this, he can be… a lot. “Zanka, I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“Oh?” Zanka’s full attention is on Enjin, ready to hear whatever it is he has to say. “What do you suggest, then?”
“Propose to him.”
“Wha-? Cthoni, no! Did you forget what we talked about last time?!”
“He ain’t into that sort of thing!”
Rudo frowns. He doesn’t like looking so confused, like he can’t comprehend what’s happening around him, but, well, he truly can’t comprehend what’s happening right now. “But if he tried to trick you into proposing… wouldn’t that mean he’s into it?”
“Naw, see, that’s exactly what he wants ya boy to think, but I know my Zan-Zan. He’s testing me.”
“So, according to you, all of this is a test to see if you’ll break and ask him to marry you?”
Jabber nods to Noerde and says, “Yep. Yes ma’am. That’s exactly what it is.”
“And he’s doing that because…”
“He thinks marriage is a joke and wants to humiliate me for being as sappy as the folks we make fun of.”
“Cuz we ain’t nothin’ like them folks,” Jabber says like he’s leading a team to victory — sports, a street fight, whatever fits the metaphor best. “We better than them!”
“So much better,” Zanka says, though whether he’s trying to convince his friends or himself is open to interpretation.
“So I ain’t gonna give in.”
“Nope, never gonna give in, no matter what he throws at me next.”
After two more attempts at two more dates, Jabber and Zanka decide that they are cursed.
No matter where they go, something tooth-rottingly romantic is happening, leading to one (or both, definitely both) feeling the urge to drop to one knee and, quote, “pop the question.” It’s like every location in their city has become a picturesque spot for meet cutes, anniversaries, and vow renewals.
“Guess comin’ over with pizza ain’t so bad after all,” Zanka mutters. There’s a slice of piping hot pepperoni and cheese pizza in his hand, the kind that’s more cheese than crust, the kind that leaves a grease stain in the box. Jabber swears it’s the proper sign of a good pizza and, well, not even Zanka’s elbows-off-the-table training can argue with that.
“Mmeh, we mmried, mmph?”
It’s funny that Rudo claims to not like Jabber when, sometimes, they share the same bad traits. “For fuck’s sake, swallow your food.”
Jabber does as he’s told before repeating his sentence. “Hey, we tried, right?” Then he leans over and kisses Zanka on the cheek, lips slick from pizza sauce and grease. Zanka, as predicted, shoves Jabber so hard that he nearly falls off the bed. Zanka prepares to call him every nasty name he can think of, but he feels his heart going pitter and patter when he hears the sound of Jabber’s laughter.
“Dude, you should see your face!” Jabber says through his giggle fit, smile bright and beautiful and perfect and-… no, oh no, oh no no no, this canNOT be happening, not in the safety of Zanka’s own bedroom!
“Whatever,” then Zanka quietly eats his own slice of pizza.
Unlike Jabber, Zanka takes much smaller bites, lets the cheese stretch across in an impressive pull that Jabber can’t help but stare at and-… how, HOW can someone make your breath come to a stop from eating pizza?! But that’s the effect Zanka has on him, fingers now plucking off a pepperoni and popping it into his mouth and-
“Fuuuuuck man, stop this shit already!”
Zanka blinks and slowly sets his slice back into the box. “Excuse me?”
“You. You keep…” Jabber tries to find the words. When he can’t, he settles for making wild gestures with his hands, moving them between the two of them until he finally figures out that maybe if he points to his heart, Zanka will catch on with what he’s trying to say.
Zanka just ends up smiling over Jabber being so… Jabber… then he immediately frowns in an attempt to stamp his feelings away. “You the one who keeps… you know…”
“Huh? I know what?”
“You. Knooooow.”
“What do I know?”
“Okay, cut that shit out because I know you know.”
As pizza as their witness, Jabber and Zanka stare each other down, because they each know that the other knows exactly what they know they know. They both put all that they have into the staring contest, because it’s so much more than a self-imposed challenge. It’s a battle of wills, a test of strength, an opportunity to keep their hearts protected or else they’ll end up serving them on a silver platter to be devoured by humiliation.
They stare at each other for what feels like centuries.
In truth, it lasts for about thirteen seconds.
“Fuck it, I give up,” Zanka says as he looks away and reaches into his pocket. “Make fun of me if ya want, I don’t care anymore.”
“You think I’d make fun of ya?” Jabber asks, reaching into his pocket, too. “Zanka, I worship the worms in the dirt beneath the ground that you walk on.”
It’s a compliment that only works when someone like Jabber says it and someone like Zanka fully understands it. Real ones know that the best declarations of love are spoken from the deepest pits of your flesh... or maybe that’s a Jabber and Zanka thing.
“I mean, ya made fun of that one couple.” Zanka slowly pulls a small, purple box out of his pocket and starts shifting his body toward the edge of the bed, too focused on the task to realize that Jabber’s mirroring his movements.
“You did, too, my guy.” The box in Jabber’s hand is a deep shade of velvet blue.
“Yeah, well, I was followin’ your lead. If I’m bein’ honest… I wouldn’t mind a proposal like that if it was comin’ from you.”
“That’s funny, cuz I was thinkin’ the same… thing…”
That’s when they both realize that they’ve both moved from the bed to the floor, resting on one knee with ring boxes in hand, facing each other.
“No.”
“Fuckin’”
“WAY!”
“So I was the first to propose,” Zanka says, grin as proud as a lion cub who’s finally mastered the fine art of roaring. “Figured it was time to stop playing games and be honest with my feelings, you know?”
“Zanka was so moved by the fact that I proposed first,” Jabber says, twirling around the living room like he’s practicing for the first dance of a grand wedding ceremony.
“But part of being in love is taking risks.”
“So I decided to stop actin’ so scared and just go for it!”
“He absolutely loved the ring I got.”
“Was so impressed by it, cuz I know what my man likes.”
“And now? We’re engaged!”
“Our wedding is gonna be dope as hell! Can’t wait to start plannin’ it.”
“Speaking of which…” Now Zanka feels a little shy as he looks at his friend group and bestows, what he feels, is the highest possible honor. “Would you all be in the wedding? In fact, we can plan it together. What do you say?”
Cthoni, Zodyl, and Noerde each look at each other, then level a glare toward Bundus before he can speak.
Rudo, Riyo, and Semiu make sure to cover Enjin’s mouth, then with a nod of agreement toward each other, they all speak at the same time.
“Absolutely not.”