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Jabber's period starts right on time, the way it always does; first thing in the morning on the first day of the last week of the month. He is extremely lucky, he knows: most people with his sort of equipment aren't so fortunate, and many would kill to have this predictability.
Honestly… it's a miracle all of his experiments with various substances hasn't fucked it up.
Zanka almost always wakes earlier than he does, and this morning is no exception. He gives Jabber a few kisses to start the day, rousing him from a rather peaceful sleep,
They've already taken the week off, something they do each month so that Jabber can get “princess treatment,” in Zanka's words. Last night, Zanka put on the extra mattress cover and changed the sheets to the darker ones. He’d switched the incense in the room to something lighter, since Jabber's nose was particularly sensitive during his period.
While Jabber dozes, he vaguely registers the sound of running water in their attached bathroom; Zanka’s running him a bath to loosen his muscles up. The smell of lavender and eucalyptus wafts from the cracked door, and Jabber finally sits up as Zanka reenters the bedroom. The blond sits next to him, the mattress dipping under his weight, and kisses him deeply.
Jabber actually quite likes his period. It's one of the few times Zanka is completely soft with him. Despite his love for Zanka's aggression and violence, he does occasionally crave this, too— and he gets it like clockwork!
Jabber allows himself to be lifted and carried into the bathroom, kisses pressed along his jaw. He's set carefully on his feet, and then left to do his business before slipping into the tub. Red immediately stains the sweet-smelling water, but the bubbles remain pristine despite the faint hint of iron in the air now. Ugh.
That's one of the things Jabber doesn't like. It's inescapable, no matter what he does.
Zanka returns with a light snack— Jabber always feels nauseous in the morning during his week, so before he can actually eat a full breakfast, he needs something easy to settle his stomach. Zanka hand-feeds him bites of warm honey toast, helps him sip a hot green tea and then water. Once the food is done, large hands begin to rub circles into his shoulders and neck. His lower back is where the most tension lies, muscles tight with impending cramps, but Zanka is nothing if not thorough, and so he starts from the top and goes down.
Jabber groans in pain-pleasure as Zanka's hands work through knots he didn't even know were there. Long locs pulled into a messy bun and contained in his scarf, his head is heavy and falls forward until his chin rests on his own chest.
It's a mistake, because as soon as the weight presses down, the soreness in his chest spikes. He'd been momentarily relieved of it, with the heat from the bath, but now he hisses, head snapping back upright. Zanka, sweet as he is, hums in sympathy before reaching forward.
He lets Jabber's head lean against his chest while he gently massages the tender flesh of Jabber's breasts. He purposely avoids the nipples, but makes sure to knead every other square inch. Jabber whines the whole time, Zanka shushing him and pressing kisses to his face and neck.
A solid thirty minutes is spent in the hot bath. Once Jabber is properly boneless and clean, Zanka drains the water and helps Jabber up and out, wrapping him up in the fluffiest towel they own.
Jabber snickers as Zanka rubs lotion into his calves, the blond looking up at him curiously. Zanka smiles, head cocked to the side. “What?”
Another snicker. “Wanna put my cup in for me?” Jabber asks, and he thinks it must be obvious it's a joke, but Zanka's face goes white, even as his smile remains firmly in place.
“Um,” Zanka croaks, “I-I can try, if ya want me to..?” Oh, poor thing. Jabber should have known, Zanka basically never denies him anything during his week. Of course he'd be willing to at least attempt it. Warmth flares in Jabber's chest, and he decides that he'll take pity, even though he kinda wants to tease more.
“I'm joking, Zan-Zan, I'll do it—” “No, no, I can! Ya just gotta walk me through it—” “I’ll do it, Zanka. Stand down, jeez!” Zanka finally relents, sighing and continuing to rub Jabber down with his lotion. Jabber shooes him out to put his cup in then allows him back to help him dress. Princess treatment, indeed.
The rest of the day is much of the same; Zanka guides Jabber everywhere with a hand on the small of his back, he sits him down and fetches whatever Jabber wants or needs, he brings snacks and drinks, and is constantly touching him in some way. The others are very used to it by now, and really so is Jabber, but it makes him feel good when Zanka completely ignores the way Rudo makes fun of him for ‘being so whipped.’
Funnily enough, Enjin chastises the boy in Zanka's defense; Zanka's being a perfect gentleman, afterall, Rudo should look at him as an example! Zanka, already very satisfied in his self-appointed role of servitude, preens even further at the praise.
Unfortunately, it seems that over the course of the year he's been here so far, a lot of the girls have synced with him, bluetooth-style.
Riyo and Amo and Guita all join them for lunch in various states of pain and irritation. After they eat, they all pile up in the break-room for a nap, during which Zanka makes more snacks for when they wake up. They eat their treats, play games and talk and chill out for a few hours, Zanka only interrupting to see if anyone needs anything, before leaving again with a kiss to Jabber's forehead. He returns only to drop off more water and pain meds and a chocolate cake for them to share.
Then dinner later, and another snack with a shared joint, and finally bed.
Except, today, Jabber's feeling a little more… energetic.
The insatiable horniness doesn't usually hit til day three, after the flow of blood finally slows down some and the cramps aren't as bad. But now, laying in bed and watching the muscles in Zanka's back move during his end-of-day stretches, Jabber's gut stirs with heat.
He's already taken out the cup, prepared to free-bleed into multiple layers of fabric instead because Zanka does not give a shit if he wakes up covered in it. And with the combination of blood and quickly-building slick, all they would need to do is take off his clothes and…
Apparently his breathing is too loud now, because Zanka's head snaps to face him, concern etched into the set of his brows. Jabber just grins at him, and Zanka quickly picks up what he's putting down. He rises to join Jabber in the bed, hovering over him and making Jabber shiver in anticipation.
Jabber initates a deep kiss, throwing his arms around Zanka's shoulders, and lets himself be pressed into the bed by his boyfriend's weight. The pressure feels nice on his achy body, but also it's just… Zanka. Zanka, Zanka, Zanka… God, Zanka's so fucking sexy. Jabber feels like he's in heat, with how bad he wants him right now.
Zanka hums against his neck, presses a wet kiss to his jaw, then sits up. “I'm not gonna fully fuck ya tonight, ‘cause we got all week fer that and I don't wanna fuck yer sleep schedule up too much. But, if ya want…” Zanka says, then licks his lips as he drags his eyes down Jabber's body. Jabber shivers again, whines a little at the inevitable lack of dick, but he's never gonna say no to Zanka offering to eat him out!
Only, Zanka has never actually done that while he was bleeding… Jabber feels a spike of nerves. It must show in his face despite him not saying anything, because Zanka leans down to kiss him again. “I don't have to, if ya don't like that idea, but I promise I wouldn'ta offered if it bothered me. If ya recall, I've had yer blood in my mouth before,” Zanka reassures, one hand on his thigh, thumb rubbing in comforting circles.
Jabber flushes with embarrassment and heat. Of course he remembers! Zanka licking blood off Jabber's knuckles was probably the hottest thing he'd ever been a part of, and that was before they’d started actually dating. The memory of Zanka's tongue so close to Mankira, coated in Jabber's blood was still so, so vibrant.
“This is different, though! It's… I dunno, it's just different!” What a shitty excuse. Jabber knows as soon as it leaves his mouth that it's stupid. The idea of Zanka's tongue makes him so hot, though…
“Do ya wanna try?” Zanka asks, and he actually looks excited to try it himself. How is Jabber supposed to say no to that eagerness? He sighs, heavy like he's doing Zanka a favor and not the other way around.
“… Okay, fine. Don't complain later, though.” Zanka lights up so much, maybe Jabber is doing him a favor. Zanka kisses him again, then reaches down to pull off Jabber's pants. Jabber lifts his hips to assist in getting naked, but Zanka pushes him back down.
“I don't need any help. You just lay back and relax, sweetheart, I got it,” Zanka orders, voice already two octaves lower than usual, and Jabber can't help but to obey. He pants raggedly as Zanka undresses him with ease, moving him around so effortlessly. The easy way Zanka's strength courses through his body makes Jabber's dick twitch.
Jabber's clit is almost always visible through his folds even when he's not horny, but now as worked up as he is combined with his current excess of hormones, the thing is basically a neon sign. Zanka immediately catches the movement as it jerks on its own, licks his lips again, and pushes Jabber's thighs further apart.
Normally, Jabber's rocking a full bush. He even cornrowed it once as a joke (Zanka nearly pissed himself laughing when Jabber stripped that night. Every time Zanka would catch his breath and calm down a bit, he'd catch another glimpse and crack up all over again. Jabber grinned proudly all the while. They did not have sex that night. Too bad they can't tell anyone about it, because it was funny). But for his week, he trims the hair low so it doesn't get too messy. When Zanka swipes two fingers between the lips, they go easy.
Jabber gasps as Zanka's fingers barely make contact with his clit. It twitches again, and Zanka grins, evil. He strokes the nub with his pointer finger, and Jabber groans. His abdomen clenches, and he can feel the way blood comes rushing out of him. It's gross, so he whines, only to giggle as Zanka scribbles his fingertips over his lips ticklishly.
Jabber quickly gets lost in the feeling of Zanka just playing, because that's what this is. Zanka's playing, and he's definitely making a mess. Occasionally, Zanka's digits will dive inside, sliding in without any resistance, and it'll jolt Jabber back into alignment. A perfect curl, a good press, has Jabber's toes spreading out as he moans.
Zanka can't tease anymore, lest he get distracted by them.
Zanka's hair has grown long enough that Jabber's job now is to hold it for him while he eats his fill. Zanka nestles in close, breath ghosting over Jabber's skin and making goosebumps rise on the inside of his thighs. Zanka presses a sweet kiss to his dick, feeling it jump against his lips, and then licks a broad stripe from bottom to top.
It's wet, and messy, and noisy. Loud slurping sounds fill the room alongside Jabber's gasping moans, the wet smack of Zanka's lips against Jabber's heat echoing off the walls.
Fingers come back up to slip inside Jabber's hole, thrusting and curling gently while Zanka's tongue zeroes in on his clit. Jabber can't stop himself from rocking into Zanka's mouth; it feels too good for self control.
Zanka circles his clit with the tip of his tongue a couple more times before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. Jabber squeals, legs attempting to come back together, but Zanka's broad shoulders keep him held open. Jabber whines, thighs twitching as pressure builds low in his belly.
Zanka stops sucking to lap up the new wave of juices, blood and slick dripping steadily and forming a puddle beneath them. His tongue dips inside, thrusting shallowly next to his middle finger. Jabber clenches around the intrusions. Zanka growls into his pussy, the sound muffled but reverberating, and Jabber jerks closer.
It's strange, Jabber thinks distantly. Usually, getting eaten out feels very good, but not really enough to get him off by itself— it's good for foreplay, and for when they're winding down at the end of a session. And usually, Jabber's sensation is reduced during his period.
For all intents and purposes, he should not be tumbling towards an orgasm this fucking quick.
He gasps out a warning, trying to push Zanka's head away. He gonna squirt if Zanka keeps moving his tongue like that, right against the underside of his dick, and he doesn't really wanna see what that looks like mixed with blood. But Zanka hears him complaining and only hums, pressing even closer, somehow. His fingers— three of them now, while Zanka tongues his clit— fuck into him, hitting and pressing against that spot that he can't ever seem to reach by himself.
Jabber wails, legs shaking, and then Zanka's face is even more soaked than it already was. Clearish-red fluid drips down his face, but Zanka only pulls back for a second to breathe before diving back in. Jabber's real orgasm hits him like a truck, rolling in waves through his body and making him buck. He moans, unable to keep the noises in even if he wanted to.
The movement forces him further into Zanka's open mouth, the other man holding his hips and keeping him close. Jabber shrieks and sobs as another orgasm is quickly ripped from him, Zanka's teeth just barely scraping his dick and sending lightning up his spine. Zanka keeps him in place the whole time despite his thrashing and eventually Jabber cries out the safeword, teeth grit against the overstimulation. Tears trail down his face, mixing with sweat.
Zanka finally, finally releases him, though he doesn't stop touching. The blond pants heavily, hands stroking along Jabber's thighs, and Jabber manages to open his eyes enough to see him.
He's obscene. The entire bottom half of his face is covered in blood, made thin by Jabber's arousal. He licks a whitish substance off his lips, but it doesn't help much. The blood has dripped down his neck since he sat up straight, and Jabber can see where he squirted all over Zanka's face— some of it is drying in his hair, tinting the blonde pink, and ugh. It's disgusting.
It's so fucking hot.
Jabber groans at the sight of his boyfriend, utterly debauched and clearly unbothered by the mess. Zanka gazes at him adoringly, still breathing hard. Jabber weakly kicks at his knee, just to have something to do, and Zanka grabs his foot. Jabber already knows what's coming, and presses his toes against the bulge in Zanka's pants, the only clothes still in the vicinity.
Zanka's breath hitches again, a high-pitched moan leaving his lips, and humps hard against Jabber's foot. Once, twice, three times, and Zanka cums, growling and dragging his nails down Jabber's leg.
Zanka catches his breath, then gets to work on undoing the sheets— with Jabber still laying in them. Jabber squeaks as he's bundled up in blood-and-cum covered sheets, and then carried to their bathroom. Zanka sets him on the floor and starts the shower, then guides him inside once the temperature is reasonable.
As Zanka begins washing him down, Jabber decides that this will be a once-a-day activity during his period from now on.