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Zanka didn't come to fight him today like he promised, so of course, as the word greatest boyfriend, Jabber came after him! No fight can run from him.
He ignored the annoying voice in his head that told him that he looked like a dog desperate for its owner, chasing after rewards it didn't deserve.
Jabber sauntered into Zanka’s private room at the Cleaners HQ like he owned the place, shutting the window after he entered through. His Zanka was sitting on the edge of the bed, polishing Lovely Assistaff with slow, mechanical movements. Huh. That's.. weird. He's being careful as always, but it seemed.. wrong? His face was that same stoic mask – tight jaw, controlled breathing – but his eyes… oh, those eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, a hungry flush creeping up his neck that he was clearly trying to hide.
Ohh.. Jabber knew that look. His grin sharpened. There he was. The real Zan-Zan. Not this repressed noble robot.
“Rough day beatin’ up trash beasts, huh?” Jabber teased, flopping down beside him. “Ya look tense, Mr Bad Attitude! Even skipped our fight. Broke my heart, ya know? C’mooooon, spar with lil ole’ me a little. I’ll let ya win this time, promise.”
Zanka’s grip tightened on the staff. He always hated it when Jabber acted like he couldn't win. His breathing hitched, but his voice stayed flat. “Ye shouldn’t be here. Go home, Jabber.”
Bullshit. Jabber could see the obvious tent in Zanka’s pants, the way his thighs pressed together like he was fighting his own body. It pissed him off in the best way. He liked Zanka’s true colors–the raw, dominant hunger underneath all that noble composure. This fake “I don’t want this” act? Annoying as hell.
Jabber leaned in, trailing a finger down Zanka’s arm. Like the gentleman he was, he gently adjusted Lovely Assistaff. “Good evenin’, my lady.” Lovely deserved it, mankira hummed on his fingers, a pleased gleam running through her. Maybe he won't get the fight he's itching but it's better than nothing! “Mind if I make ya man mine a little? Ya can have him back later.” Zanka sputtered, and took her back. Surprisingly, the light hit Lovely just right, like she was agreeing. “Thank ya, pretty girl. I'll take good care of him!”
Zanka frowned at him. “I don't want to spar now, Jabber” His voice was flat, but Jabber could feel a hint of frustration. “I’m not in my best form.” That ‘im mediocre’ bullshit again? No, Jabber can't have that.
“Liar. Ya face says ya wanna wreck me. Why hold back, Mr. Bad Attitude? Scared ya will enjoy it too much?”
Zanka’s cheeks darkened. He turned away, pretending to focus on Lovely. He gently settled her next to the bed, careful as always. Too careful, actually. Like he was afraid of putting too much force. Yep, definitely pin up energy. “I’m fine. Leave.”
Jabber hated it. He poked harder, climbing into Zanka’s lap and grinding down once, teasing. “C’mon, Zan-Zan. I know ya want to.” he purred, trying to get his attention. “Stop pretendin’. Be honest for once! tell me ya want.”
That did the trick.
Zanka’s control snapped. He grabbed Jabber by the hips, flipping them so fast Jabber’s back hit the mattress with a bounce. “Ye want my true colors?” Zanka growled, voice rough and low, eyes blazing with all that repressed heat. “Fine. I’m going to wreck ye. Tie ye to this damn bed and teach ye some manners.”
Jabber’s cock throbbed at the words, a thrilled laugh bubbling out of him. “Finally.”
Zanka moved fast, stripping Jabber efficiently before grabbing the restraints he kept hidden. He tied Jabber’s wrists to the headboard, then his ankles to the foot of the bed–spread wide and helpless. Jabber tested the bonds, heart racing with that perfect mix of excitement and..vulnerability. He was always cocky in fights, winning most of them through sheer reckless flair, but here? He loved when Zanka put him in his place.
Zanka fetched something from his desk. A cock ring. Jabber’s eyes widened. Huh? That was… new. Zanka never told him that. He swallowed hard, then a mischievous grin slowly spread across his face.
“Wait, wait, wait–” Jabber started, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice. “Ya? Mr. Bad Attitude ? Mr. ‘I have a reputation to uphold’? Ya’ve got sex toys hidden in yar room?” He let out a low, teasing whistle, eyes sparkling with delight. “Didn’t think ya had it in ya, Zan-Zan. What’s next? Ya got handcuffs with the fam’ crest on ‘em too?”
Zanka’s face instantly flushed a deep red. He avoided Jabber’s gaze for a second, ears burning as he fiddled with the ring in his hands. The usually composed cleaner looked genuinely embarrassed, which only made Jabber’s grin wider.
“Shut it,” Zanka muttered, voice gruff but lacking any real heat. “It’s… new. I got it fer ye. Fer us.”
Jabber barked out a laugh, clearly enjoying himself despite being tied down. “Aww, ya bought a cock ring just for me? That’s almost romantic, Mr. Bad Attitude. Didn’t know ya had a perverted side under aaaaall that composure.”
Zanka paused, still holding the ring. He looked at Jabber for a long moment, eyes careful and searching.
“…Is it alright though?” he asked quietly.
Jabber blinked. “What?”
Zanka’s flush deepened slightly, but he held eye contact. His voice steady. “I need to know your boundaries before we start this. About the ring... Can I really use it on ye?”
The question hit Jabber somewhere soft and vulnerable. Zanka, Mr Bad Attitude, was checking in with him. Making sure he felt comfortable. It made Jabber feel strangely special. Taken care of. Seen. His chest tightened in that scary, warm way he didn’t like thinking about too much. “Yea, man! Use it on me. Use me until all ya anger is tamed.”
Zanka didn’t move right away. He watched Jabber’s face, a faint crease between his brows. “Ye always say that,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Even when yer tryin’ to hide how you really feel.” He let out a small, quiet breath. “I just… need to know ye actually okay with this. Not just playin’ along with what I want. Please, please be honest.”
Jabber felt a flicker of warmth mixed with unease in his chest. He quickly covered it with a bright smile. “I’m green, Zan-Zan. Seriously. I want it. I want ya to use it on me.”
Zanka studied him for another second, then nodded slowly. “Alright.” He slid the cock ring on tight at the base of Jabber’s aching cock and turned it on to the lowest setting. The steady vibration made Jabber hiss softly.
Zanka’s hand rested gently on his thigh. “Tell me if it changes,” he said quietly.
Jabber kept grinning. “It won't. Now stop worrying and wreck me already.”
Zanka’s face was still flushed, horny as hell, but now he wasn’t hiding it. Wonderful. Good. Jabber already felt anxious when he noticed Zanka cracking his hand. Oh, he was getting fucked good. Nice and fast probably, and rough. It's been a hot minute since Zanka had fucked him and stopped with this soft bullshit. Jabber was ready.
And then Zanka slicked his fingers with lube. Huh. Jabber bit his tongue so as not to complain, he wanted it dry. He didn't need the sapiness of getting stretched. But, he wouldn't lie, the mere aspect of Zanka's long elegant fingers inside.. Ah, he could moan. Zanka didn't make him wait, pushing two inside Jabber without warning, curling them straight against his prostate.
“Ngh–fuck, yes, Zan..kaaa” Jabber moaned, hips twitching as much as the ropes allowed.
“Stop movin’. Yer not in control here. ” Zanka threatened, working him open with practiced precision. Oh, it was on then. Zanka was for real now. He even added a third finger, massaging that spot relentlessly. Jabber decided to be a bit of a brat, trying to grind down on, just to check. He didn't expect that Zanka's free hand would suddenly come down hard on his ass. The spank stung beautifully, blooming heat across his skin. Jabber arched into it.
“Yer always so cocky,” Zanka muttered, spanking him again, harder. “Winnin’ every fight like it’s nothing. But here? Yer goin’ to beg fer me.”
He wrapped a hand around Jabber’s throat –not choking hard yet, just a firm promise –and leaned in to suck marks into his collarbone. Jabber whimpered, trapped between those strong fingers massaging his prostate and the delicious pressure on his neck.
Zanka pulled his fingers out slowly, leaving Jabber clenching around nothing but empty air. A pathetic, broken whine escaped his throat before he could bite it back. Shit, don’t sound so desperate, he thought, cheeks already heating.
Before he could complain, though, his eyes caught on the bottle of lube again–and then lower. Oh. Zanka’s pants were already off, his cock hard and flushed, curving up against his stomach. Jabber’s mouth went dry as he watched Zanka slick himself up with long, deliberate strokes, the wet sound filthy in the quiet room.
Fuck. It was such a pretty sight–Zanka’s usual stoic mask completely shattered, cheeks dark, eyes burning with barely-restrained hunger as he coated every thick inch. The lube made it glisten obscenely, emphasizing both its length and its impressive girth. No one else would ever feel this good. No one else would ever know exactly how to break him apart and put him back together. The realization settled heavy in his chest, warm and terrifying. I shouldn’t feel like this. Not about him. Not about anyone. It was too soft. Too vulnerable. Too close to something that could actually hurt him if Zanka ever decided to leave. He shoved the thought down deep, burying it where it couldn’t embarrass him, where it couldn’t make him weak.
But his body betrayed him anyway. A flustered heat crawled up his neck and ears, burning hot. His heart was beating too fast, too loud. His own cock twitched hard against his stomach, leaking steadily despite the cockring, practically begging for attention like it had a mind of its own.
Zanka noticed immediately, of course. He always saw right through Jabber’s bullshit. His dark eyes flicked down to Jabber’s twitching dick, and a slow, smug smirk spread across his face. “Look at ye,” he murmured, voice low and teasing as he stroked lube over his own thick length. “Already twitchin’ like a needy little puppy. So much for all that cocky attitude.”
Jabber’s face burned even hotter. Embarrassment twisted sharp and hot in his gut, mixing painfully with the aching arousal and that dangerous warmth in his chest. Why does he always see me like this? He hated how exposed he felt–tied down, leaking, heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the ropes. Part of him wanted to snap something mean, to push Zanka away before this softness could dig any deeper. But another, scarier part of him just wanted to be kept like this. Wanted to be wanted. Wanted to be ruined by him again and again.
“Tch…” Jabber forced a shaky, cocky grin, even as his voice came out a little too breathless. “I could be needy if ya want me to, Zan-Zan. Hell, give me a command, I'll do what ya ask. I’ll even bark like a puppy if that’s what gets ya to finally fuck me properly.” He rolled his hips as much as the restraints allowed, trying to look defiant even while his cock continued to twitch traitorously. “Just stop teasin’ and wreck me already. Ya promised, remember?”
Zanka’s smirk deepened, eyes dark with hunger. “Oh? Ye’ll bark for me now?” He gripped Jabber’s hips hard and pushed in deep with one brutal thrust, bottoming out in one go. Jabber’s back arched, a loud, broken moan ripping from his throat.
“Fuuuck–Zan-Zan, ya are so thick,” Jabber gasped, clenching around the stretch. No one else feels like this. No one else ever will.
Zanka set a punishing pace immediately, hips snapping forward, nailing his prostate with every thrust. One hand wrapped around Jabber’s throat, squeezing with perfect pressure. “That’s it. Take my cock like the desperate little slut ye are. Ye geniuses are always actin’ all high and mighty in fights, but the second I tie ye up, yer dripping fer it, huh. Pathetic.”
Jabber whimpered, the degradation familiar and grounding. But then Zanka leaned down, pressing their lips together for a moment while still fucking him hard. “yer bein’ a awfully good boy, doin’ so well fer me fer once.”
Huh?
The switch made Jabber’s head spin. He’s used to the degradation. That’s easy. Safe. This praise thing? That was new. Dangerous. It made something fragile bloom in his chest that he didn’t know how to handle.
Zanka kept switching – choking him roughly while calling him a filthy mutt, then caressing the fresh marks on his throat with gentle fingers and whispering, “So perfect fer me. ” Every time the praise landed, Jabber felt his walls crack a little more.
Why does he look at me like that? Like he actually… loves me? Wait. He does. They were dating after all. They weren’t just fucking. Jabber knew it. Zanka had made that clear more than once. So why was he still so scared? Why did every soft touch after the roughness make his heart race with fear instead of comfort?
He tried so hard not to beg.
Zanka pulled out right as Jabber was about to tip over the edge.
“No—fuck, Zanka!” Jabber snarled, hips jerking uselessly, his hands clenching and unclenching with the need to touch and pull him closer. “Don’t ya dare stop again.”
Zanka spanked his ass hard, twice, the sharp smacks echoing. “Watch that mouth, mutt. Or I’ll edge ye all night.” He rubbed the head of his cock teasingly against Jabber’s slick hole. “Beg nicely and maybe I’ll let ye come.”
Jabber bit his lip hard enough to taste blood. He's not weak. He won’t beg that easily. What does Zanka take him for? He might not keep me. People never do. But he knew – deep down – that Zanka would. That made it scarier.
He settled down on the bed. Not because Zanka asked but because he felt like it. He won't beg. Zanka didn't seem to mind though, suddenly, he leaned down, kissing the corner of his mouth tenderly “Ye like my cock, huh? Yer always takin’ every inch like ye were made for my cock. Made fer me.”
The switch made Jabber’s head spin, but then, just as suddenly, Zanka pulled out, leaving him empty and whining. Before Jabber could fully protest, Zanka wrapped a slick hand around his throbbing cock and started stroking him with slow, torturous pulls.
“Look at this pretty cock,” Zanka murmured, thumb teasing the slit and pulling at his Ampallang, running his finger through his frenum ladder. “Leakin’ so much for me already. You’re such a needy puppy, Jabber. Bet ye’d let me edge ye for hours and still thank me for it.”
Jabber’s hips jerked into the touch, but Zanka kept the pace maddeningly slow. Every time he got close, Zanka would stop and just hold him, squeezing the base until the orgasm faded.
“Zan-Zan!~ fuck!” Jabber bit his lip hard. “Yar a meanie..”
Zanka smirked and lowered his head. Jabber knew what to expect, but still, feeling the soft kisses and nibles on the soft skin of his inner thigh.. It was hard to get used to. Finally, Zanka swallowed Jabber’s cock down in one smooth motion. The wet heat was overwhelming. Zanka bobbed his head eagerly, sucking hard while two fingers pushed back into Jabber’s hole, curling ruthlessly against his prostate.
Jabber’s eyes rolled back. “Shit! your mouth—ngh, just like that—! ah!”
The dual sensation was devastating. The hot, wet suction around his cock combined with the relentless pressure on his prostate made pleasure spike sharp and overwhelming through his body. He could feel every flick of Zanka’s tongue, every hollow of his cheeks, every curl of those long fingers inside him. The low buzz of the cock ring at the base of his dick only made everything more intense, turning every sensation into something almost too much.
Zanka hummed around him, the combined vibration of both him and the ring shooting pleasure up Jabber’s spine. Oh fuck, finally. He worked Jabber right to the edge again – mouth and fingers in perfect sync –, Jabber’s mouth opening in a silent moan and finally- Zanka pulled off completely with a lewd pop, blowing cool air on the wet head before squeezing it tightly until the orgasm passed.
“Not yet, mutt. Did I let ye come?”
Jabber let out a frustrated sob, and then a laugh just escaped. It hurt so good. “Ya fucking tease..!” Zanka was truly his matching set, wasn't he?
“Shut it.” Zanka slapped him across the face – firm, stinging, but not hard enough to truly hurt. The sharp impact sent heat blooming across Jabber’s cheek. “Open up, pup.”
Jabber obeyed instantly, lips parting. Zanka straddled his chest but paused just short of feeding his thick cock between his lips. He looked down at Jabber with dark, focused eyes, one hand gently cupping his reddened cheek.
“What’s yer color?” he murmured, thumb brushing lightly over the spot he’d just slapped.
Jabber froze.
For a split second, everything in him locked up. His breath caught. His mind went blank. Why is he doing this? Why the fuck is he being so gentle right now? The care felt too soft, too intimate, too real. It made his stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with arousal. So fucking sappy. So unnecessary. What’s the point? We’re supposed to be fucking, not… whatever this is. People didn’t touch him like this. Not unless they wanted something. Not unless they were going to leave.
He didn’t know what to do with it. Part of him wanted to snap something mean, to push Zanka away before the warmth could settle any deeper. Another part – a disgustingly needy part – wanted to lean into it. To beg for more.
The silence stretched. Jabber’s heart hammered wildly.
Zanka waited, stupidly patient, thumb still stroking his cheek, eyes searching his face. Not pushing. Just… there. Wait. Wasn't this supposed to be about Zanka unraveling ? Why is he worrying about him?
Jabber finally forced a shaky, playful grin, even though it felt brittle. “Green,” he rasped, voice rough. “I’m green. Stop being all sappy and just use my mouth already, Zan-Zan.”
Zanka studied him for another long second, clearly sensing the hesitation. He wasn't convinced? Jabber didn’t know why he reacted like this. He didn’t want to stop either. The contradiction made his chest feel tight and his thoughts spiral. Is Zanka going to leave? He looked uncertain. Does he not want this anymore? But, then, Zanka nodded slowly and finally pushed forward, feeding his thick cock between Jabber’s lips.
“Ngh-That’s it,” Zanka groaned. Even in control, Zanka moaned so prettily. “Remember: Tree taps, puppy.” he added though. “Make yerself useful fer me, aight?” Even while using him, one hand stayed on Jabber’s cheek, thumb stroking gently. Jabber moaned around the heavy length, torn between hating how good the care felt and desperately craving more of it.
Jabber moaned around him even more when he felt Zanka's hand hold his hair in place, probably making a bun of some sorts, and guided him to the pace he wanted. Jabber sucked eagerly, tongue swirling. He loved the weight on his tongue, the way Zanka’s hips twitched when he took him deeper. He looked up for a second and that was a mistake. Zanka's eyes were too blue, his face was too soft, slacked with pleasure. He was so beautiful in this moment, no restraints, no holding back.. But still, underneath all the fire on his gaze, Zanka had a different shine in his eyes and even more, when he noticed Jabber staring, his face flushed a pretty shade of red. Jabber closed his eyes and sucked harder, trying to drown the confusing warmth in pleasure instead.
“Fuck, yer mouth feels so good… Such a good pup.” Jabber could come just from this. It's so unfair how Zanka’s voice alone excites him. Praise, Degradation.. It didn't matter, as long as Zanka was saying those things...Just as Zanka’s thighs started tensing, he pulled out, denying himself too. Jabber whined at the loss, lips shiny and swollen.
Zanka moved back between his legs. He stroked Jabber’s cock with one hand while pushing three fingers back into his hole, massaging his prostate relentlessly. The combination of the tight ring buzzing at the base, the slick fingers wrecking him, and Zanka’s hand working his cock was pure torture.
On the fourth denial, Jabber finally broke. Beg, huh? That's what Zanka said in the beginning. He wanted him to beg. He wouldn't do it for anyone else, but for Zanka..
“Zanka...please” He finally said it. His face burned. “Please, I need this. I'm begging ya, just let me come. I can't take much more of this.” The words felt raw and humiliating, but they spilled out anyway. He hated how desperate he sounded. He hated how much he meant it.
Zanka sped up his hand, but didn't take off the damn ring. “Ye certainly can do better than this, can't ye?” he teased. “Beg nicer for me, puppy. Tell me how much ye need it.”
Jabber’s breath hitched, fresh tears slipping down his cheeks. The humiliation burned, but so did the need. “Fuck… Zanka, please. Please let me come for ya. I need it so bad.. I need ya. Please—” Zanka circled his frenum, jabber threw his head back. “So good, Zanka! Oh, please. Please!”
Zanka groaned, clearly affected by the praise. He finally yanked the ring off and slammed back inside Jabber in one brutal thrust, fucking him hard and deep while stroking him fast. “Fuck, ye drive me insane..Yer goin’ to be the death of me one day, Jabs.”
It didn't take long until Jabber came with a broken sob, spilling hard across his stomach. Zanka followed moments later, filling him deep with a low groan.
The room fell quiet except for their ragged breathing. Zanka stayed inside him for a long moment, forehead pressed against Jabber’s, before slowly pulling out. He untied the ropes with careful, steady hands, massaging Jabber’s wrists and ankles gently to ease the stiffness.
Jabber felt floaty, warm and a little raw. The aftershocks still tingled through his body as Zanka grabbed a soft, warm cloth and began cleaning him up with slow, tender strokes – first his stomach, then between his legs, then the tears on his cheeks. It was so gentle it almost hurt.
Too sappy, Jabber thought, even as he leaned into the touch. Way too fucking sappy. But… don’t stop.
Zanka’s voice was soft. “Hey… ye still with me?” He brushed a strand of hair from Jabber’s sweaty forehead, eyes searching his face. He hesitated, clearly searching for the right words. “How are ye feelin’?”
Jabber blinked slowly, trying to ground himself. “I’m.. fine,” he mumbled, voice hoarse. “Feels kinda floaty though.”
Zanka nodded, looking a bit awkward as he continued cleaning him. “Good. That’s… good.” He paused for a long second, ears slightly pink. “Ye… helped me a lot tonight. I was really wound up earlier. So… thank you. Fer pushin’ me to… let it out. Fer bein’ here when I needed it, even if yer annoyin’ me.”
He leaned in and pressed a slightly clumsy kiss to Jabber’s temple. “Was it… too much? At any point?”
Jabber shook his head, a small, tired smile tugging at his lips. Leave it to Zanka to be a worrywart about everything. “Nah… it was perfect. Ya were perfect.”
Zanka froze. His pale cheeks flushed a deep, obvious red that spread all the way to his ears. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to smile and cry at the same time – eyes shiny, lips twitching like he couldn’t decide which emotion to let win.
Jabber couldn’t resist teasing, even through his exhaustion. “Aww, look at ya. Blushin’ so hard ya look like a fucking tomato. Does praise really get to ya that much, Mr. Bad Attitude?”
“Shut it,” Zanka muttered, ears burning even redder. He looked away, clearly embarrassed, but the corners of his mouth still twitched upward. He finished cleaning them both, then climbed into bed and pulled Jabber close, wrapping him up in his arms.
Again with the sapiness.. But this time, Jabber didn't mind it. It was terrifying. It made him feel weak. But he didn’t pull away.
Zanka pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “Shush now, Jabs. I’ve got ye.”
Mankira didn't feel agitated on his fingers, or even an ounce feeling danger. In fact, all ten rings were buzzing happily on his fingers, like a dog wagging his tail. Such an obvious reaction. Mankira is truly a snitch.
Jabber closed his eyes, letting the warmth of Zanka’s arms surround him. For once, he let himself believe it.
“Where did ya get the cock ring from though?”
He expected the pinch, and he welcomed it.