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How the hell did I get here, Zanka groans to himself, head leaning back to press against the cold stone beneath him. His hands tightly gripped around Lovely Assistaff as if to make sure they didn’t wander anywhere else he didn’t want them to. The warm, and fuck was it warm, body pressing tightly against him left him no space to move around. Zanka doesn’t ever recall having anyone this close to him in years. His childhood was mostly filled with distant schoolmates and even more distant family members. Aside from the occasional fistfights and direct combat, there weren’t ever any moments that had felt this…intimate.
When the concrete walls had collapsed in on him and Jabber earlier during an intense battle, Zanka couldn’t understand why he had reached out his hand and grabbed the other. What had sparked him to pull the dangerous man against him as the walls closed down on them? And why did Jabber deactivate Mankira when he could have easily stabbed Zanka instead. But there was no use trying to dwell on ‘what if’s and ‘why’s anymore was there? Especially not when he was already pressed tight underneath the other man's body, waiting for their chokers to connect to someone outside or for anyone to realize that they were gone.
The air circulating around them had long grown warm from the little air shared between them. Thigh brushed against thigh, shoulders touching; every small shift and graze was growing impossible to ignore. Zanka subconsciously let his eyes trail down, hands tightening in front of him and pressing against Jabber’s chest as he wondered how it might feel if he were to place them instead against Jabber’s body. The warmth beneath his palms, the slope of the other's waist, and the thickness of his thighs. Fuck.
Zanka shuts his eyes tightly in order to drown out the train of thought, his pants growing painfully tight as the images played in his head.
He could get through this, he repeats to himself. After all, Zanka had been taught through years of mindfulness and meditation, how to perfectly control his body, his breathing, and his thoughts. He just needed to take a deep breath and to exhale slowly, to reduce all noise around him, and to-
A loud, drawled whine of his name, “Zanka~”.
Ignoring the other man, Zanka continues to repeat his mantra. Deep breaths, in and out, reduce all noise.
The weight on top of him shifts and presses further into him, fabric rustling loudly in the already quiet space.
Zanka’s body grows warmer, acutely aware of the sweat slowly accumulating at the back of his neck. Too fucking close, he thinks, closing his eyes tighter and ignoring the sensation of how the body on top of his kept pressing increasingly closer to his thighs.
Deep breath, exhale, reduce all noise.
“Zanka,” the voice whispers, breathy and low now, body deliberately shifting down more to press harshly against Zanka’s thighs and chest, sending sparks of arousal down Zanka’s spine.
“Fuck!” Zanka yells, eyes opening to glare furiously at Jabber who grinned at him cheekily. “Dammit Jabber, quit fucking moving! There isn’t enough room to be doing all that shit!” Gritting his teeth, Zanka presses himself further into the floor as much as he can, hoping to put some distance between him and the viciously teasing Raider.
Laughing in response to Zanka’s frustration, Jabber continues to press his entire body against the Cleaner, uncaring of the other’s weapon pressing against his own chest, focused only on the press of their groins and his heated body. “Aww, is Mr Bad Attitude mad that little ol’ me is making him feel, horny?” Emphasizing the word, Jabber leans his head down to lay directly against Zanka’s collarbone, eyes half closed as he peers up at Zanka from underneath his lashes.
Navy eyes lock onto magenta and for a moment, all Zanka could think about was how long Jabber’s lashes were, framing his eyes delicately - so unlike the man himself. What Jabber lacked in verbal elegance, he made up for physically. From his long hair that seemed to always find a way to frame his face perfectly, to the way his body danced around Zanka’s own during their fights. Jabber had a certain beauty to him that Zanka couldn’t help but want to punch him in the face for in order to block out the wandering thoughts.
Zanka’s body twitches in annoyance, sharp anger rising. He grinds down on his teeth to stop himself from pummeling Jabber six feet deeper into the ground. But that was the problem at the current moment wasn’t it? The fact that they were buried several feet underground with no one but themselves, pressed tightly into an already confined space.
Zanka thinks he should have been more vigilant when the building had collapsed in on itself. Jabber thinks it's the most fun he’s had in the several times they’ve met and fought. “Huh? I thought ya grabbed onto me so we could both have some fun alone time together~”
“Nothing about this is arousing,” Zanka grits out seethingly, pushing Lovely Assistaff against Jabber's chest to give himself more room and forcing the other to shift back onto his knees above Janka. Relief rushed over him as Jabber was no longer pressing against his groin.
Unfazed, Jabber hums a low note in his throat as he moves a hand to press against the wooden stick. Both of their weapons had reverted back after the collapse, and Jabber took the opportunity to wrap his own hands and in lieu Mankira, firmly around the staff. Jabber licked his lips in anticipation, watching the way Zanka’s eyes seemed to trail after the gloss left by his tongue. He moved to push the staff aside.
It wasn’t a sexy maneuver by any means, requiring Jabber to lift his leg out of the way, but with nothing between them but their clothes and a little bit of space, Jabber was satisfied. It was nice to be able to fully press his body onto Zanka’s and even nicer to see the others pupils blowing wide as he resisted the urge to shift upwards against Jabber’s moving body.
Silently, eyes still firmly locked onto Zanka’s own, Jabber moves to grab both of Zanka’s hands and intertwines them easily into his. The man underneath him was pliant, quietly waiting with bated breath in anticipation of Jabber’s next move. Jabber grew dizzy at the show of confidence. Confidence that Jabber wouldn’t stab him? Or confidence that he could still take Jabber in a fight if he needed to. Either way, his arrogance was fucking hot.
Grinning lightly, Jabber traces the ridges of Zanka’s knuckles with his fingers, rubbing back and forth as if to reassure him. Despite Zanka’s soft appearance, his hands were calloused and rough from years of handling his Vital Instrument. The same hands that were used to punch and beat Jabber into the ground were rearranged to lay on his waist.
“Yer telling me you haven’t thought about this?” Janka teases lightly, hands going back to Zanka’s chest, trailing upwards.
Zanka did think about this moment. Zanka couldn’t stop thinking about all the different situations they could be in.
“Ya could always push me away again if you want.” Jabber said, eyebrows raised and grinning as if to challenge Zanka.
Warm hands continue to press against Zanka’s covered skin before slowly finding their place on his shoulders. Pressing his hips downward, Jabber let out a lewd moan that continued to replay in Zanka’s ears, his eyes widening in shared pleasure. Zanka could feel the other man’s hardness pressing against his own through the fabric separating them.
“A-Ah, do you feel how fired up I am Zan-ka?” Jabber breathlessly says, groaning out his name, thighs shuffling to press his hips further onto Zanka’s, light gasps leaving his wet lips as he loses himself to the up-down motion of his own hips. “You beat me up so good earlier babe, you gotta let me finish here while we still have the chance.” Grin turning feral, Jabber can’t help the way his eyes roll back, fluttering from the pleasure building in his groin.
So much for holding back, Zanka thinks, groaning at the pleasurable way Jabber was grinding in his lap.
Fine. If that’s what he wanted. Zanka wasn’t going to let Jabber win at whatever game they were playing at this point.
Zanka tightens his grip on Jabber’s waist, making sure to make it painful as he pulls Jabber's hips to meet his roughly, disrupting Jabber’s earlier rhythm.
“Shit!” Jabber yells in surprise, pain and pleasure blooming from his sides as Zanka dug his fingers in. “That fuckin’ hurts dude!”
“Isn’t that what you want, you freak?” Zanka sharply replies, anger and heated desire lacing his voice in a way that only has Jabber's cock throbbing more in need.
Unrelenting, Zanka grinds up against Jabber hard and fast, roughly thrusting his clothed dick against Jabber's own, uncaring if his grip would leave marks or not. Heat washes down Zanka’s spine at the thought of the bruises that would bloom on Jabber's skin in the shape of his fingers.
“Ah, mmm, fuck.” Jabber moans in Zanka’s ear, hands tightening on his shoulders as pleasure and pain build. Jabber's thighs shook with need, the heat in his belly growing more and more taut. “More Zanka! Fuck me more! Give it to me hard!”
Zanka groans, head leaning forward to press against Jabber’s collarbones. “Fucking slut,” he thrusts up sharply to emphasize the word earning him a gasp in response. Jabber looked completely out of it, lost in his own pleasure as he panted, lips parted open and eyes glazed over. Lust and want spreads throughout Zanka’s body.
Any longer and he would come in his pants.
Unwilling to leave it at just that, his thrusts grinded down to a halt.
Jabber whined at the loss. “Wha? Why’d ya stop?” He complained, trying to move his hips down but finding himself unable to, due to the increasingly tight grip Zanka had around his waist.
“Pants,” Zanka growled back, lips gritted tightly to hold himself back.
Blinking owlishly at the other, Jabber’s cheeks darken as he grins widely. “Oh, fuck yeah baby, I knew you liked me,” he giggled, moving his hands from Zanka’s shoulders to slowly shimmy his pants down.
Jabber moaned at the sensation of his cock bobbing freely in the air, sticking his tongue out in concentration as he began working to free Zanka’s own. The cold air was making his cock even more sensitive, and he needed so badly to feel Zanka’s skin against his.
Having taken off his pants, Zanka hissed as warm hands grabbed onto his already heated cock, biting down on his lip as Jabber traced the veins with his thumb teasingly.
Licking his lips in anticipation, Jabber roughly jerks his hands up and down Zanka’s dick, thumb swiping the head every once in a while to wipe off the precum. “Yer pretty packed down here for being such a stick,” he laughs. “It’s always the lanky ones with the biggest dicks.”
“Fuck off.” Zanka growls before glaring up at Jabber. “How many dicks have you seen for you to be saying shit like that.” Zanka throws his head back again in pleasure when Jabber thumbs harshly against the head of his cock.
“Why ya asking? Jealous?” Jabber pulls his hand away from Zanka’s cock, bringing it closer to his face to inspect the precum he had gathered. Locking eyes with Zanka who couldn’t seem to pull his eyes away from the wetness of Jabber's fingers, he slowly stuck his tongue out to taste the liquid on his fingers.
Fuck.
“As if,” Zanka replies, moving his hips up again to meet Jabbers. The sensation was different now. The direct contact between their cocks was even more pleasurable than before, slick coating them both as they grinded up and down.
Jabber falls back against Zanka’s chest, unabashedly moaning as he rutted downwards. Laughing, he brought his fingers to his mouth again, moaning as the taste of Zanka coated his tongue. Properly dripping in saliva, he reached back to trace the rim of his hole, gasping as two fingers slipped inside.
Zanka kept his grip tight on Jabber's waist, panting in exertion as he felt the pleasure building, the lewd sound of their cocks gliding back and forth against each other. His eyes widened when he heard the sound of Jabbers gasp, watching as Jabber reached his hand backward to fuck his hole roughly.
Shit, that’s hot. Zanka was starting to overheat at this rate, but he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.
Moving one of his hands away from Jabber’s waist, he moved to pull the other man’s fingers away from his hole and quickly replaced it with two of his own.
“Ah!” Jabber moaned in surprise. Jabber’s own fingers were a decent size, but nothing could have prepared him for the sheer length of Zanka’s own as it easily slipped in, hitting deep inside at spots he didn’t know he had.
“Shit! Ah! Zanka!” It felt like being flayed on both ends. If he tried to move away from Zanka’s cock, he would only end up being penetrated by his fingers. If he tried to move away from Zanka’s fingers, he only ended up rutting against Zanka’s cock. It was torture to Jabber. It felt like fucking heaven.
Slipping another finger alongside the other ones, Zanka roughly grinded it down against Jabber’s prostate, earning moans of ‘more’ and ‘harder’ from above him. Their cocks continued gliding against each other, the heat building and intensifying.
Zanka panted, his gut clenching in unrelenting pleasure as he got closer, cock twitching with want of release. Grazing his teeth against Jabber’s neck, he groans louder as he bites down cruelly onto Jabber’s shoulder, drawing blood as the other shouts out in pain and pleasure.
“Fucking cum Jabber. Cum for me baby.”
Zanka’s fingers graze harshly against Jabber's prostate once more and Jabber loses his mind. Jabber's thighs shake from the mind numbing pleasure, eyes rolling back as his cock twitches, cumming and squirting messily onto Zanka’s stomach, body trembling with each spurt of his cock.
Zanka soon follows, thrusting up harshly without a care as his cock trembles and the knot in his stomach finally reaches its peak.
“Fuck!” Zanka shouts, bloody lips biting down onto the others shoulders as his cock jerks and spurts out hot semen.
Over sensitive and heated, Jabber gasps as Zanka pulls his fingers away from his ass, body jerking from the sensation. Cock still twitching, Jabber barely registers the pain from his neck and sighs contently, moving to press his face into Zanka’s neck as well. He relaxes further as Zanka wraps both of his arms tightly around his waist in an embrace.
“I knew I was yer fucking baby, Zanka.” Jabber laughs, voice barely above a whisper from exhaustion.
“Next time, you should put yer dick in me if you want.”
Zanka groans, mouth coated in blood as his arms wrap around Jabber tighter. Jabber’s light laugh rang in his ear as his cock twitched in desire.
Zanka was so fucked.