Work Text:
Hazy
That’s the only word to describe the atmosphere of the room.
Between the sensation of Zanka touching him, and the buzz of the high is itching something nice and special to his brain that pain surprisingly couldn’t itch.
It’s weirdly domestic how casual this feels, especially while Zanka isn’t trying to kill him and vice versa.
But that doesn’t look over the fact the Zanka is touching him. Everywhere.
He is naked.
Zanka is naked.
They are both bare physically and mentally, showing their body and soul to the other to mold, break, and reshape into something new and unforeseen.
Zanka’s hands travel his flesh, as does his mouth. Bite marks already riddled his arms and chest, his breasts having soft bites right around his pierced nipples, now the cleaner was attacking his neck, hands rubbing absentminded circles on the flesh of his hips.
His own hands felt numb, detached from him in a sense that he isn’t using them in a useful way or anyway for that matter.
This time, he had Mankira.
Held her on his knuckles.
He could rip through Zanka’s flesh, inject him with poison, kill him, kill him, kill him.
But he didn’t, because he didn’t want to. Zanka’s mouth sucking a hickey on his neck.
Focus
….
The room is dim, lit by a lamp on the desk in the corner, same corner his desk was in his room. But it wasn’t his.
Lovely Assistaff propped up against the wall near the bed him and Zanka were on opposite of the desk, different than usual.
…
Zanka was staring at him now.
But not speaking.
….
Jabber leaned in closer to Zanka, tilting his head ever so slightly for Zanka to kiss him, in which he did without question, capturing his lips in a kiss that was everything to the Cleaner.
Jabber noticed how he held him with such tender care, it was nearly irritating, until he thought about how easy it would be for Zanka to bang his head against the wall near them. Bang his head until blood pooled on his bed and then beat Jabber for dirtying his bed. It was cruel, but made this moment more engaging for Jabber, something he liked.
Until Zanka moved his hand to Jabber’s inner thigh.
Then he realized what Zanka wanted.
And he’d happily give it.
