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Zanka hating surprises was a new development, but with every passing moment, it became more and more true.
As always, it was the boyfriend's fucking fault. Randomly, an hour before Zanka’s shift at work ended, Jabber had texted him. Zanka had immediately picked up the phone (breaking the rules of his job) and regretted his decision.
Zanka Glared at the text, he knew intrinsically that he was going to be dealing with some bullshit, with Jabber there was. For most normal people, a surprise would be a gift, a vacation, or a pet (unfortunately). Anything that someone would actually want, Jabber didn’t work in that mindset.
Jabber's idea of a surprise ranged from something incredibly good and thoughtful to something else entirely, with no in between. Zanka had dealt with both, and right now he wanted to deal with neither.
It was his fucking birthday today, all he wanted was to go home, and sleep (maybe cuddle with his boyfriend, if Jabber was willing) and go to work the next day (hopefully on time for once). Zanka had already had his birthday party the previous weekend and had his birthday date with Jabber yesterday. At this point, Zanka was over his birthday, and Jabber knew that.
Red flags flashed in Zanka’s mind. Jabber was going to do something, and Zanka was hard-pressed to believe it was going to be anything good. Jabber had been too good for the week.
Fuck, whatever.
Zanka slid his phone back into his pocket. He just needs to get out of this uniform and go home. Maybe Jabber would see the exhausted look on his face and take pity.
A man could dream.
The hour ticked by like malaise. By the time Zanka had re-dressed into his civilian clothes, vines of anxiety and excitement had crept up around him, making it hard to breathe. He couldn’t say he hated the feeling. Jabber always made him feel this way, it wasn’t healthy. Zanka knew that, but it was them.
It didn’t need to make sense to anybody but him.
The drive to his apartment was annoyingly long, every pause felt like an eternity. By the time Zanka made the final turn to get into the gate, which led to the apartment building, Zanka had started to shake slightly.
He gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles had turned white, and he could faintly hear Jabber cackle in his ear. The noise wasn’t real, but the feeling it left was. Zanka was on autopilot after that. He parked the car and started towards their apartment.
His mind didn’t start up again until he was standing at his apartment door, hand already turning the doorknob after scanning the key card that unlocks the door. Zanka doesn’t say anything as he enters. Jabber should have already heard the door open.
The scent of incense and chemicals filled his nose, and his eyes lingered on the living room for a moment. Jabber wasn’t there.
Jabber’s plants and questionable decorations covered the living room, a throw blanket was crumpled on the floor, and a coaster was lying on the coffee table instead of being in the kitchen. Mankira was sleeping in her cat tree, and Lovely Assistaff was lying under her heating lamp. She hissed in greeting. Zanka rubbed her scaly head. If it were any other day, Zanka would have dropped everything and tended to her, but he couldn't. Regrettably, Zanka walked away from the tank.
Zanka stalked through the hallway. He scanned the rooms, but Jabber was in none of them. Their bedroom was the only room Zanka hadn’t checked.
Why was Jabber in here, of all places? Jabber barely slept and loved to keep Mankira company, playing and bugging her all day, before or after his classes.
Zanka turned the doorknob and entered.
Jabber was lying in bed, covered head to toe by silken sheets as he scrolled on his phone. Unplused by Zanka’s presence. His eyes glanced up from his device. Unbothered, as if he hadn’t given Zanka a mini anxiety attack for the last hour.
Rage filled Zanka’s senses. He slammed the door shut and dropped his duffel bag on a nearby chair. “You got a lot of nerve’ textin’ me that message! There ain’t no damn’ surprise here!” Zanka yelled. Jabber's eyes lit up, he dropped his phone onto the bed, and sat up.
“What’cha mean, I jus haven't shown anything yet! Be patient, damn.” Jabber pushed the covers aside and slid out of bed. He was wearing an oversized purple hoodie with a dumb chemistry joke on it and Zanka’s sweatpants; his locs were in a long side braid that rested on his shoulder and went down his torso.
Zanka could tell it took Jabber some time to get all his locs to stay in place in the style without any of them falling astray. Zanka's eyes trailed to Jabber's exposed neck were faint bite marks and bruises littered his brown skin. His skin was almost fully covered in them, but Zanka could see gaps-places where he could put more.
Zanka’s ears reddened.
Jabber had no business looking so good. It was 9:30 on a Tuesday. Zanka’s eyes narrowed. Where was Jabber going? Nowhere, not if Zanka could help it.
Jabber walked towards Zanka, his steps unmeasured and ecstatic as he walked towards the other. His braid bounced with every step. Zanka had never wanted to pull Jabber’s locs more than he did at that moment. His braid looked so pullable, so easy to grab and tug on.
Zanka tried to look away, at something that wouldn’t make him want to start humping the man like a feral dog. But before he could, Jabber caught his eyes, a wicked smile forming on his full lips.
In a flash, Jabber pushed Zanka against the door and pressed his body to the other's, leaving no space in between them.
Jabber scent wafted into Zanka’s nose, and his mouth immediately salivated. They were so close, the air between them was electric and warm. Zanka cursed the clothes that stood between them. He wanted to feel the other against him; he needed it.
Jabber's eyes were half-lidded, his hands were pressed against Zanka’s chest, keeping him pinned to the door. Jabber’s voice was playful, but firm. “Man, I got the surprise for you right here. But I dunno if I wanna give it to you now. You're not actin’ like a good boy.“ Zanka tried to move, but Jabber’s hand stayed firm.
Zanka frowned, “I’ve gone through this entire house. If there was a surprise, I woulda seen it already.” He fixed jabber with a half-hearted, annoyed look.
Zanka continued, sighing, “Jus’ show me the damn surprise, I got shit to do tomorrow.”
Jabber moved back, releasing Zanka’s body.
Jabber's smile turned soft, “Whatever you say, pretty boy.”
Jabber then grabbed Zanka’s hand and led him to the bed, pushing him onto the soft mattress. Zanka made a sound at the impact before fixing himself onto the bed. So he was sitting on the edge.
Jabber moved back, the warm light of candles casting a shadow around Jabber, highlighting his attractive features and giving his skin a warm glow.
Zanka’s eyes were fixed.
Slowly, Jabber's hands drifted over his body until they reached his pants, his thumbs curved into the waistband and pulled them down. The hoodie covered Jabber’s upper thigh, blocking any view.
What was he supposed to be looking at? Any excitement that Zanka had dissipated, and exhaustion took over, before Zanka realized it in his hands and started to unbutton his shirt.
Zanka raised a brow, “Where’s the surprise?”
Jabber sucked his teeth, “Zan-Zan, you're starin’ right at it.” he rolled his eyes, annoyed.
Zanka shook his head, “All I see is your’ ugly hoodie, are you the surprise?" Zanka took his shirt off and started to fold it.
Jabber frowned before staring down at his hoodie. Zanka could hear Jabber mutter something to himself before he turned back to stare at Zanka.
His eyes were blank for a moment before he broke out into thunderous laughter.
Zanka sighed, “What the fuck.”
Jabbers eyes watered with tears of laughter. He curled into himself, “I FUCKIN’ FORGOT TO TAKE OFF MY HODDIE.”
Jabber laughed for a long time. Zanka had already changed into his pajamas and was about to get into bed( He was too tired to take a shower) by the time Jabber had stopped laughing.
Jabber wiped a tear from his eyes, taking deep breaths. “Fuck man, I thought you were being stupid, but I didn’t realize I was the problem. My bad,” he took another breath. “Alright, now let me actually show you, for real this time.”
Quickly, with no sensuality or grace, Jabber tossed the hoodie off of himself and threw it to the ground, his eyes twinkling, "Surprise, birthday boy.”
Zanka was almost too tired to care at this point, but he still looked.
His eyes languidly roamed Jabber’s chest, taking in the lean muscle and bruised, bitted nipples before moving down to the small of Jabber's waist, where faded hand prints lay. Finally, his eyes met something blue, the same shade as Zanka’s eyes.
Lace panties.
They weren’t simple or cheap like the ones Zanka had seen online; these were intricate and colorful. The base of the panties was blue, but the flowers and vines that lined the edges of them were gold, white, and purple.
The lace was thin enough that Zanka could see Jabber's skin through the cracks of intricate detailing.
Begging to be bitten, bruised, hurt.
Fuck
The lace, combined with Jabbers hair, made a gorgeous vision.
Exhaustion melted away to something else entirely.
Something hungry and wanting. Growling and biting, chomping at the bit to be let out and hurt someone, it wanted to hurt Jabber.
Why should Zanka stop it?
Zanka swallowed, his eyes couldn’t stop looking at it. He needed to touch it.
Jabber toyed with the ends of the panties, “Well, bad attitude, what’ do ya’ think? ”
“Where’ did ya’ get it?” Zanka questioned. His hands gripped the covers, and he needed to touch it.
Jabber grinned, “August, I told him what I wanted, and he made somethin’ similar, woulda liked some more purple, but this works.”
“Want me to do a lil’ spine for you? Your eyes are starin’ real hard.” Jabber offered, already in progress, to turn around before Zanka even responded.
Jabber turned around, showing his back. The back of the lace was just as detailed as the front. The panties hugged his ass, cupping it. Playfully, Jabber bent down and twirled his hips. His ass jiggled in the fabric.
It looked good enough to bite.
Jabber had to be testing him, testing how much Zanka could take before losing it. Zanka was going to fail the test badly. In the past, that would have left him reeling, now he embraced it.
“C’mere,” Zanka said, his voice thick with want.
Zanka’s hands reached to grab before Jabber even turned around.
Jabber teased, “Damn, down boy. I wasn’t even finished yet.”
Zanka's eyes became half-lidded, “Come here.” Zanka gritted out, hoping the other would take him seriously.
Jabber paused before turning around and walking towards the bed, moving smoothly between Zanka’s legs.
Instantly, he could feel Zanka’s hands start to trace over his waist, skimming the curve of Jabber’s waist carefully before making purchase.
Soft touch usually did nothing for Jabber, but Zanka was different. Everything Zanka did to him resulted in Jabber having a reaction. Zanka was special.
Zanka’s hands lingered on the lace, tracing it reverently. He looked up at Jabber, meeting his deep magenta eyes, partially covered by long lashes. Jabber’s hands drifted to Zanka’s hair, running his fingers through it. Silken strands fell into submission under his palm.
Zanka’s hair fascinated Jabber. It was fine in texture, but thick and straight. So different from Jabber’s own. Before Zanka, Jabber had never touched another’s hair, he had never felt the need to, and still didn’t for anybody aside from Zanka.
Zanka’s eyes were also so unique because of the depth of emotion they showed. No matter how much Zanka tried to hide, his eyes always showed his emotions.
Jabber moved one hand, tracing the underside of Zanka’s eyes. Zanka didn’t flinch.
Jabber groaned, “Oh, Zanka, don’t look at me with those eyes.” You know what they do to me
Zanka sighed, “I could say the same, your eyes are starin’ into my soul.”
Jabber rolled his eyes. “You’re not romantic at all.”
“What are you goin’ on about, I’m plenty romantic,” Zanka argued, his nails digging into the lace for a split moment.
“Nah, you're not. I just gave you a compliment, and you insulted me. That ain’t fair.” Jabber countered.
He wasn’t being serious, but it still bothered Zanka.
“Okay, so what d’you want me to do?” Zanka asked, his voice annoyed.
Jabber paused, thinking before replying, “Give me a compliment.”
Zanka blinked. “You're serious?”
Jabber nodded, “One compliment. That’s all I gotta hear.” Jabber smiled playfully.
Zanka groaned in annoyance. He didn’t compliment Jabber a lot, but that was because it wasn’t needed. Jabber knew he was drop-dead gorgeous and incredibly intelligent. The man was getting a PHD in chemistry, at an accelerated rate, he knew he was smart. He didn’t need compliments.
But on the other hand, Zanka wanted Jabber’s wants to be met, Jabber barely talked about what he needed aside from pain and distance ( in certain circumstances).
If he asked, Zanka would provide (or at least try to)
Zanka thought for a moment, staring at the man in front of him. Curvy and muscular and all the right places. His erection, firm and hardening under Zanka’s eyes. The blue lace against his rich skin, hugging Jabber’s skin.
Finally, a compliment reached his brain.
“Fuck, these have no business looking so good on you.” Zanka groaned, slipping his fingers under the panties.
“What, you didn’t think I could rock some panties?” Jabber pouted, and Zanka almost felt bad. “Wow, bad attitude, I didn't think you were that mean.”
Zanka groaned, “You know what I mean.” He rolled his eyes. His hands slipped from the panties, allowing them to slap against jabber’s skin.
Jabber laughed, twirling a few strands of Zanka’s hair in between his fingers. “Relax, I’m just playin’ you did good.”
Zanka immediately flushed.
Zanka’s hands drifted to Jabber’s ass. Assuredly, he caressed Jabber’s ass before grabbing it. Squeezing as if it belonged to him. Jabber had to shuffle close at the squeeze, pressing his torso to Zanka’s face.
Sometimes he forgot Zanka’s strength.
Jabber sighed, his hands gripping Zanka’s hair.
Jabber’s skin was so soft under the lace, complacent to Zanka’s touch. Having Jabber’s ass in the palm of his hands shouldn’t have felt so fucking good. He squeezed it again.
Zanka leaned close, pressing his lips to the lace. He began to press soft kisses against it, searching for areas where the panties were the thinnest. He wanted to feel Jabber’s skin. He needed to bite him; he needed to feel Jabber on his tongue, on his teeth.
Just as Zanka was going to bite Jabber’s, the man's hand stopped him, pushing his head away. Zanka glared.
“Uh, uh, Birthday boy, today is about you.” Jabber chided.
Before Zanka could protest, Jabber cut him off, “So what position do you want me in?” Zanka immediately perked.
“On your back.”
—
This was a view, Zanka was sure he wouldn’t forget.
Jabber was lying on the bed, his head hanging from the edge of it. His braid was over one of his shoulders, perfectly kept, but not for long.
By the time Zanka was finished with him, it would be ruined, just like the man who made it.
Zanka had taken off his shirt, being in his pants made him feel powerful, in control. Especially with Jabber being entirely naked aside from lace panties. Jabber was willing and ready, ready to do anything Zanka wanted. It was his birthday afterall.
“Zankaaa are going to start anytime soon, or am I just going to pass out from blood flow to the brain?” Jabber whined; he squirmed. Sliding further down the bed.
“Give me a second, I was takin’ in the view.” Zanka quipped back.
Jabber snickered, “ I’m view now? Damn, I didn’t think you had it in you to just say that.” Jabber toyed with his braid.
Zanka groaned, “Oh shut the fuck up.” moving closer to Jabber, until he was standing next to Jabber's head, his eyes were level with Zanka’s dick.
Jabber's voice was soft and seductive, unmenegated crazy could be heard with every vowel as he uttered the words.
“Make me.”
In a flash, Zanka pulled down his pants, letting his dick hit Jabber’s face, right against his cheek. A thin line of precum left a streak on Jabber’s cheek.
Jabber made a noise, it was a mix between a whine and something animalistic, grabbing the base, Zanka slapped it against Jabber’s cheek, “You're pretty damn quiet right now, what happened to that damn attitude from a second ago?”
“Zanka," Jabber croaked.
“No, you had a lot of fuckin’ attitude, so I’ll shut you up. Open. Your. Mouth.” Zanka said, slapping it against Jabber's cheek for a final time.
Jabber’s mouth was already open, his tongue lolled out, ready for his throat to be fucked. A thick vine of lust tightened around Zanka.
Jabber looked so good, so desperate–desperate for Zanka.
Nobody had ever been desperate for him, wanted him so badly.
Zanka moved back, pressing the tip against Jabber’s tongue, letting him feel the texture. This was the last time Jabber would feel the tip; after this, it would be down his throat.
He tapped the tip against Jabber’s tongue a few times, watching thin strings of saliva break at the distance between his cock and Jabber’s tongue. As if the universe itself was trying to stop the disconnect between the two.
Jabber hummed around it, his hands gripped the sheets.
Softly, Zanka muttered, “I’m gonna start now.”
Jabber gave a subtle nod.
Zanka grabbed the base of his cock, and pushed into Jabber’s wet heat.
The first stroke was always the hardest, the feeling of everything was overwhelming, and it overstimulated all of Zanka’s senses. He had learned to control himself, but it was still a lot.
Zanka pushed away until he hit the back of Jabber’s throat, a satisfying click following. As the tip hit the back of Jabber's tongue.
The grooves of Jabber’s mouth met the veins of Zanka’s cock, creating a delicious friction.
Jabber made a squeaky sound as the tip met the back of Jabber’s mouth. From where Zanka was standing, he could see Jabber’s throat work on his cock, swallowing but unable to do anything aside from take what Zanka was giving. Jabber’s hands gripped the covers so hard that Zanka could see threads start to break.
Zanka was reaching so deep into Jabber, ruining him from the inside.
“Fuck, we should do this position more often.” Zanka groaned, giving one slight thrust, and Jabber crumbled. His throat closed, trying to push Zanka out, but it wasn’t going to work.
This felt fucking amazing.
Immediately after Zanka started a regular pace, letting Jabber get used to the intrusion before he really started to go crazy.
With every thrust, Jabber was destroyed more.
His legs, which were laying complaint and straight on the bed, had started to curl. Jabber’s hands had left the sheets and were now pressed on Zanka’s thighs, they didn’t ever push him away, but they were there in case.
A dark blue dot had formed on the lace underwear, it grew with thrust. But it wasn’t enough.
His stupid braid wasn’t ruined, his thighs weren’t bruised. He wasn’t covered in Zanka’s scent, cum, saliva. Whatever.
Zanka needed to do more. He needed to break Jabber down, he needed to do what Jabber wanted. He needed Jabber to know that he was Zanka’s, that he couldn’t leave.
Jabber's hands slackened.
Zanka pulled back, giving Jabber a break. (He needed it to)
“Fuckkk man, I thought I was gonna die. I fuckin’ love it.” Jabber croaked, his usually smooth and clear voice was gone, replaced with a shell of itself. He gasped for air, his shoulders quaking. Tears had started to well in Jabber's eyes.
“Fuckin’ psycho.” Zanka sighed, uncaring of the warmth as he said the words.
Jabber smiled, a thin line of saliva leaked from the end of his mouth.
Zanka sounded like he found it disgusting, on any other person, he would, but with Jabber, it was only more attractive. “I know you love it.”
Zanka ran a hand through his hair, the other going to cup Jabber’s neck, “It doesn't take a genius to figure that out.”
Jabber hummed, grabbing Zanka’s cock. Zanka yelped.
“Put it back in, and go harder. I know your holdin back on me.” Jabber said, open his mouth. A slick white sheen covered his tongue.
“Don’t go grabbin' it like that, fuck.” Zanka complained. Jabber hummed, waiting.
Zanka slapped Jabber’s hand away and grabbed his cock. He gave one cursory pump before pushing it back in.
The feel was still overwhelming, but Zanka got used to it quicker. Immediately, Zanka started a rough rhythm. Jabber whimpered at the movement, but kept his throat open. Saliva started to leak from Jabber's mouth, starting to cover the upper half of his face.
But Zanka kept going, the hand on Jabber’s throat tightened. Making it harder for Jabber to breathe with every thrust.
Every time Jabber thought he would get a moment of reprieve, a moment of air, Zanka would smash the thought away.
Just with his cock.
Jabber could smell Zanka, smell him in his most natural state. He smelled so good. Jabber had been a drug addict once, but the high from Zanka’s scent was something different, it was irreplaceable.
Jabber had tried to make perfume that smelled like it, but he couldn’t replicate the scent.
Jabber wanted to touch himself, desperately, but his pleasure wasn’t important. Zanka’s was, it was Zanka’s birthday, even with all the celebrations, Jabber still didn’t think it was enough. Jabber would have tried to go all out again, but Zanka wouldn’t have liked it, he barely liked the birthday party he had with his friends.
Jabber had to get creative. What would be a good present? It had to be lowkey and still satisfying.
The answer came easily after that. Zanka was down to fuck almost all the time, and when they fucked it was always satisfying. Dressing up real pretty and fucking Zanka’s brains made perfect sense (It was also fiscally responsible).
Now here Jabber was, not giving a gift but receiving one. He was supposed to be giving head, while Zanka took it, not doing any work. How did Jabber let it get this far? Jabber would have complained, but this was exactly where he wanted to be.
He could treat Zanka later, once Zanka was tired from this, Jabber could take back control.
The thick coiling taste of Zanka’s semen was intoxicating. Logically, Jabber knew it tasted like nothing (Zanka had a great diet and would never allow himself to have a PH issue), but in his mind, it tasted rich.
Distantly, Jabber could feel a hand reach for his nipple, caressing it before pinching. Jabber moaned. His nipples hadn’t been sensitive until Zanka came along.
Zanka groaned; the vibration caused his cock to twitch. More pre-cum started to leak into Jabber’s mouth. Carefully, Jabber tried to grab Zanka’s hand and move it away from his nipples. Zanka shouldn’t be doing anymore work.
Zanka pushed Jabber’s hand away. “Let me touch you,” he growled, pinching Jabber’s nipple even harder, pressing his nails into the skin.
Jabber groaned, fuckkkk.
He wanted to, but he had put his mind to making Zanka relax, Zanka’s pleasure was important, not his.
Jabber tried to slap his hand away, but it didn’t work. Instead, Zanka just moved his finger to the next nipple, “You're pissin’ me off, just let me touch you.”
Zanka released Jabber’s nipple and grabbed the man's chest, groping it. Jabbers skin was soft and tender under Zanka's palm. Jabber's nipples pressed against Zanka's hand, begging to be touched. With his other hand, Zanka's fingers tightened around Jabbers neck even more. Leaving a bruise, Zanka was sure, would stay for days, maybe weeks. (Hopefully)
His grip pushed Jabbers face closer, forcing him to take in more than he already was. Jabber's nose pressed against Zanka's balls lightly. Giving Jabber direct access to smell Zanka's natural scent. It was something heady and masculine.
It was becoming incredibly hard to breathe, air started to burn. With every breath, incredible pain followed. The thick cock being shoved down his throat helped amplify the feeling. It was exquisite.
PainpainpainPainpainpainPainpainpain
It hurt so good.
Something weak, almost a whimper, but to strained escaped Jabber’s throat. Tears slid down his face.
Alarm bells rang, his body was telling him stop, to take a break. But he couldn’t, he wasn’t in control.
He could feel Zanka’s dick in his stomach, playing with his intestines. Covering his pink insides with white, replacing the acid that sat there with semen.
Jabber feared that when Zanka pulled out, his own stomach would follow.
Zanka swore he could feel Jabbers vocal cords on the tip of his cock, getting knocked with every thrust. He watched as Jabber's body moved with every thrust, being jerked like a puppet. He could see a bruise from where his thumbs were on Jabber’s neck start to form.
A zap of pleasure followed at the sight, he could feel Jabber unawarly jerk away from touch, trying to escape. Finally, he was getting the message; he couldn’t escape, he was stuck. He couldn't leave Zanka, he couldn’t go anywhere where Zanka couldn’t follow.
Fuckkkkfuckkfuckk
Zanka released Jabber throat, but didn’t stop. Instead, he doubled over, throwing one leg on the bed (next to Jabber’s head) while the other stayed on the floor.
He was so fucking close, he just needed a little more.
Distantly he thought that if anybody saw this, they would immediately run to the nearest drug store and bleach their eyeballs.
In a completely animalistic fashion, Zanka started to thrust. There was no rhythm (was there ever), just pure desire and unmitigated drive to cum.
Zanka knew Jabber could take it; he didn’t need to be careful.
Jabber didn’t move for a second. Zanka would have gotten worried, but before he could, Jabber’s hand reached out and pulled him closer. Pressing into the small of his back, pushing him deeper into Jabber’s throat. Jabber hummed around his cock, begging.
“Anta, hisshi ya na.” (Yer, desperate aren’t you?)
Jabber couldn’t speak even if he wanted to but the tightening of his throat answered.
Was Zanka speaking another language? Jabber thought, but he didn’t try to think deeper about it.
Jabber pulled him closer, digging his fingers into his back. Desperate to feel the first trickle cum on his tongue.
PleasecomePleasecomePleasecome.
Jabber needed to feel it, like an addict yearning for their next hit. His body needed it.
Jabber could feel the whispers of exhaustion creep onto him. He was going to pass out. Hopefully, after Zanka orgasamed.
Jabber started to move his head in time with Zanka’s thrusts. Zanka’s hands gripped the sheets, holding onto them for dear life as if they’d run away the moment he let them go.
He was on the edge, he was close. He could almost taste it.
“Kuso!” (shit) he growled.
His hips jerked uncontrollably, his movement stuttered, and all he could do was feel it. Feel the sweet pleasure that enveloped his senses.
Unconscious crept up Jabber’s senses; his lungs burned with scareness.
Before Jabber could shut his eyes and let unconscious consume him a familiar taste filled his senses.
The orgasm was enough to make Zanka’s knees quiver. He hurriedly, he slipped out of Jabber’s mouth and stumbled to the bed, sitting down haphazardly next to Jabbers head. Zanka panted, as if he had just run a marathon. Tiredly, he glanced down at his boyfriend.
Jabber gasped, then coughed and finally started breathing. Air filled his lungs with a coarseness he hadn’t thought possible. Jabber’s body shook. He felt reborn. Jabber rolled onto his stomach and immediately got whiplash. He hadn’t realized how lightheaded he had truly been.
“I–are you okay?” Zanka questioned. Jabber coughed weakly, “I’m fine, jus’ light-headed. Zanka, my man, I think you fucked my thoughts away.”
Zanka sighed, “Nah, this is you normally.” Zanka's hands were shaking, a euphoria washed over him.
“Can’t be, I don’t remember the periodic table,” Jabber replied, unaware or uncaring of how ridiculous he sounded.
Zanka frowned, “Most people don’t.”
Jabber waved a hand flipiantly, “Most people ain’t me, I know that thing like back of my hand.” Jabber turned to Zanka, “You know that, you started speaking in Japanese towards the end of it. Did my head mess you up that much?”
Zanka flushed, “It jus’ comes naturally sometimes. You didn’t do much to elevate the process.”
Jabber nodded in mock understanding, “ Zan-Zan that makes perfect sense, you just started tweakin’ on your own volition.” Jabber said, dragging his hand through Zanka’s hair, it slightly damp, but still silken and easy to toy with.
Zanka jerked back, playing up his irritation. Jabber caught on instantly. He leaned closer to Zanka, pressing himself into Zanka’s side.
Zanka didn’t move away. Jabber had taken a long time to get comfortable with casual affection; Zanka wouldn’t take his vulnerability for granted.
Jabber sighed, “You're not good at lyin’ ya’know. I can always tell by looking at your eyes.”
Zanka stayed silent, studying Jabber’s expression before cracking under the pressure of Jabber’s stare “Yeah, I know. You're a genius, of course, you could tell.”
Zanka turned to Jabber, pulling Jabber into his arms, pressing their chest together in a slightly sweaty embrace.
“Is this all you got’ planned for my birthday?” Zanka asked, trailing his fingers into Jabber’s back. Jabber was silent for a moment, his eyes blank, before perking up.
Jabber leaned back, pushing Zanka away from him, despite the others, and started to crawl on the bed. Reaching to open the drawer of the bedside table.
The pretty blue of the panties caught Zanka’s attention, forcing him to look. Zanka didn’t try to hide where his eyes landed, watching as Jabber stretched his body to reach the drawer. His body was naturally lean and muscular, but his waist was tiny, tapering into a deep curve. Making it easy to grab and manhandle Jabber whenever Zanka pleased.
The panties only exaggerated the depth of Jabber’s waist while (somehow) simultaneously highlighting the plumpness of Jabber’s ass. It was a miracle Zanka got so lucky he was an average guy, but somehow, he had found someone so exceptional. Talented naturally, pretty and smart.
It was a wonder Jabber hadn’t left yet, hadn’t figured out that he could find some so much better and Zanka aimed to keep it that way, he wouldn’t (couldn't) give Jabber up.
Jabber had chosen Zanka, he had gotten fucked by Zanka, and loved by Zanka. He had seen Zanka in his most vulnerable state and experienced him at his most sadistic and mentally unsound. He knew all aspects type of Zanka’s love.
No, he hadn’t just experienced it; he embraced it. He took Zanka’s fire and fanned the flames, laughing as he was burned.
He loved Zanka regardless.
Fuck, Zanka needed him; he needed to taste him, kiss him, spit in his mouth, and fuck him. Break Jabber down until he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t run, couldn’t move enough to leave.
Jabber’s voice broke Zanka’s train of thought.
“I have strawberries, icing, sprinkles, whipped cream, and dried nuts, which one you want?” Jabber asked, tossing the items onto the bed.
Zanka lurched back, “What are we gonna do with all this? Most of this shit’s gonna fuck up our PH.” Zanka eyed the bottles and carton of strawberries. Trying to stop himself from involuntarily cringing at the food on the bed. Jabber knew he hated that.
Zanka crossed his arms, “I’m not using any of this.”
Jabber sighed, “Mann, I bought all this just for your birthday. You gotta use at least one of them.” Jabber leaned forward, “Don’t tell me you can’t match my freak, Birthday boy.”
Zanka’s pupils contracted, “Fine, since you wanna be a brat. Hand me the whipped cream.” Jabber raised an eyebrow, “Oh, Bad attitudes letting loose. Here. Catch.” Jabber tossed the container to Zanka.
Zanka's hands fumbled with it before gaining a steady hold. He tossed it to the floor. Jabber frowned, “Damn bad attitude, I didn’t think you were that boring.”
Zanka rolled his eyes, “The food would ruin the bed.”
Jabber laughed, “By the time we're finished, the bed’s gonna be ruined anyway.” Jabber shrugged, “Whatever the birthday boy wants.”
Jabber toyed with the edge of the panties, the purple of his nail complemented the dark blue lace. “I was thinkin’ three rounds for your birthday?”
Zanka nodded in response, “On your back,” he orderd.
Jabber shook his head, “Nah, that ain’t gonna work. Today is about you.” Jabber got on all fours, pulling Zanka to the middle of the bed and pushing him down onto his back. Jabber climbed on top of him, pressing his ass against Zanka's crotch.
Jabber kept his hands pressed to Zanka’s chest, preventing him from moving; his magenta eyes twinkled in the light. “All you gotta do is lie down and let me do my thing. You so damn uptight all the time, so take this time to let loose.”
“Fightin’ you is also lettin' loose,” Zanka muttered under his breath, his hands moving from Jabbers thighs to trace his hips.
Jabber shrugged, “Physically, your body isn’t relaxed, chemicals produce endorphins that make ya more aware. Your parasympathetic nervous system doesn’t activate so–”
“I get it.” Zanka growled, “But aren’t you supposed to do what I want, since it’s my birthday?”
“I asked what you wanted to use, and you wanted to relax just a minute ago”, Jabber responded, “If anything, I’m doing exactly what you wanted. So jus’ relax, let me take care of you.”
Zanka groaned in annoyance. He didn’t need to be taken care of, he had only wanted to relax before seeing Jabber in panties. Now that was the last thing on his mind.
If he had known the word ‘relax’ would put him in this situation, he would have never said it.
Jabber ground his hips, “Jus’ enjoy the feeling, you’ll like it.” Jabber tilted his head, his eyes half lidded and heated.
Zanka wanted to protest more, but stopped himself. He realized Jabber wasn’t going to be convinced. Nothing Zanka said aside from ‘stop’ would make Jabber give up on his goal. Zanka could only do one thing: wait until the moment Jabber showed a hint of vulnerability, and then strike.
Patience
The texture of his panties against Zanka’s sensitive skin was odd. It was so soft, but the tough on his skin it was almost too much for his nerves.
“Fuck” Zanka groaned, digging his nails into the sharp lines of Jabber’s hips. Jabber hissed in pleasure, grinding harder. His head lolled back, showing off the old bruises and bites on his neck.
He looked claimed, tempting in the burning light.
Spikes of heat arose.
“Your ears are so flushed, I forgot how easy you blush.” Jabber mussed. His eyes glinted in the light hypnotically. Zanka had to pull himself out of the stupor they caused.
Zanka bristled, “I-”
“I’m getting bored now, let’s jus’ move to the fun part,” Jabber said, stopping his movements abruptly.
“What?” Zanka questioned, pushing himself up marginally.
Jabber shrugged, “ I can only do this Vanilla stuff or soo long, and I know you don’t like that shit either.” Jabber slid his hands down Zanka's torso, not stopping until he was grabbing the edges of the panties and pulling.
“So let’s jus’ get to the fun stuff.” Smoothly, he pushed the panties to the side. His erect cock twitched in response to the cold air. The panties pulled against his hips, causing the lace to rip from the strain.
Zanka’s hand shot up, “Stop, I want to rip 'em.” his voice was feral, desperate with a borderline animalistic hunger.
Jabber chuckled, “Don’t worry, I wasn’t gonna rip ' them, I paid too much.” Jabber leaned back, unawaringly emphasizing the curve of his waist. “You see, I already prepared myself–”
Zanka's cock twitched at the image, Jabber fingering himself, twitching and desperate for something only Zanka could give. Pretty and bitten fingers, pushing, searching for that spot that would Jabber shake, but never finding it. Yearning and waiting. Begging for his hole to be filled.
Zanka could deliver, but Jabber wouldn’t let him. A flash of irritation sparked inside Zanka’s chest, but he buried it down.
“–all I gotta do is start.”
Zanka started to focus on Jabber again, losing his previous train of thought.
Jabbers voice softened, “Will you let me start Zanka?”
Zanka swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.
Fuck he wanted Jabber, needed him like an addict needed a next hit, but he hated being forced to not be active. But he also needed those hot, tight walls around his dick.
His mind was a mess of opposing thoughts fighting for dominance inside his brain. “I–fuck, start moving. You know I want ya’.” his voice was raspy and desperate, but he didn’t have the pride to care.
Jabber gave a satisfied smile, as though Zanka’s words were all he ever wanted.
Smoothly, Jabber grabbed Zanka’s erection and gave a few brisk jerks before spitting on it. A slick sound filled the room as Jabber continued his movements.
Zanka bit his lip, attempting to stop the sound, but loose groans and whimpers still slipped through the cracks.
“You look so good down there, Zan-Zan, taking everything I give you,” Jabber murmured. Zanka grew warm at the praise, cursing himself for being so easy to please.
Jabber sat up onto his knees, his grip still firm on Zanka’s cock, “I know you don’t wanna have any more birthday presents, so this is my last.” Jabbers voice was soft, vulnerable in a way he rarely showed to Zanka.
Jabber pressed the tip of Zanka’s erection to his hole, teasing Zanka with the heat he knew would follow. One of Jabbers hands clawed Zanka’s chest, just above where Zanka’s heart lay. Jabber used his chest as an anchor. As he lowered himself down before Zanka could be distracted, he heard the softest words Jabber had ever said to him.
“I hope I can please you,” Jabber says, his voice trailing into a whimper. His eyes clench shut as he goes lower. Taking Zanka’s cock inch by intoxicating inch. Jabber’s bits his lips so hard Zanka was sure they bled.
The first thing Zanka felt was heat, shearing hot, and slick wet walls, gripping Zanka’s cock like a vice.
Zanka watched as inch upon inch of his cock was swallowed, until Jabbers ass met Zanka’s pelvis, making a soft sound on impact. Zanka could feel Jabber’s walls clench around him, trying and failing to push him out, but he wasn’t leaving. Hot pleasure curled in Zanka.
For a few seconds, Jabber didn’t move, letting himself get used to the sting of it. His eyes were closed tightly, and he took deep breaths–steadying himself.
Slowly, Jabber’s eyes opened; a hazy film covered them. Zanka had seen that look before, and no matter the circumstances, it never ceased to not make Zanka lose it. Make him forget everything else aside from the man perched on his dick.
“Ahh, I forgot how much that burned. Every fucking time.” Jabber rasped, “Feels so fucking good.” Jabber punctuated his words with a roll of his hips.
Zanka’s mind was becoming foggy. Everything narrowed down to the tight hole gripping his dick like it couldn’t bear for him to leave and the beautiful man ontop of him.
When Zanka looked down, he could see the faintest hint of his cock distending the skin of Jabber’s belly.
Zanka dragged his hand up to pressing on it, “I can see myself in ya’” he gritted out. Jabber moaned in response, his hips jerking uncontrollably.
Zanka thrusted up in response, desperate to go deeper. Despite being as deep as he could be. Jabber gave a swift push, pinning Zanka down.
Jabber looked down, pressing his own hand on his stomach. He made a weak noise, “mmh-ha, I can feel you, from the inside, forcing yourself inside, deeper and deeper. It hurts so much,” Jabber gave a weak hip movement, moaning wobbly.
A bead of pre-cum bubbled and leaked for his tip.
Strands from his braid started to loosen, but didn’t fall out of place.
Fuck.
Jabber was a mess, flushed and sweaty. But it wasn’t enough.
Watching Jabber moan on his dick was hot, amazing, glorious, but it wasn't nearly enough. He needed to have Jabber claimed, underneath, and writhing. Marked so badly that nobody would even be able to look at Jabber and think he wasn’t taken.
Zanka’s other hand moved from Jabber's hips and attempted to press it onto Jabber’s neck, but before he could, Jabber slapped his hand away. Zanka hissed as he lowered it down,
Jabber shook his head mockingly, “Nope, birthday boy, remember all you need to do is relax, let me do all the work.” His hips rose up, before slamming back down. Meeting in Zanka’s pelvis in a wet slap.
Stars burst into Zanka’s vision.
“Fuck.” Zanka's hips jerked uncontrollably. Jabber moaned in response before bucking down, withholding Zanka’s ability to move (again).
How fucking long was Jabber going to play this game? Zanka's hands pressed hard into Jabbers stomach as punishment.
Jabber hissed, his walls squeezed around Zanka’s cock. From his lips, a thin line of drool started to leak. Zanka wanted to lick it, he pulled himself up and was immediately pushed down (Jabber was too strong for his own good.)
Jabber sucked his teeth, “You don’t listen, do ya? I said jus’ relax.”
Zanka gritted his teeth, trying and failing to leave his spot on the bed. Jabber grabbed both of Zanka’s wrists and pinned them next to his head, carefully (so Zanka couldn’t escape), sliding his hands into Zanka's, intertwining their fingers.
Magenta eyes met blue.
Zanka was captured, cornered like prey. It reminded him of the days before Jabber, when everything mattered so much. Others' opinions used to crush him, keeping him in a perpetual state of submission.
Jabber leaned forward until he completely covered Zanka’s figure and blocked his view of anything but Jabber. Zanka glanced down, all he could see was where they were connected and Jabber’s twitching, excited dick.
Zanka squeezes his eyes shut; if he looked any longer, he knew he’d cum.
Focusfocusfocus
“Jus’ stay still. I know you’ll love it, pretty boy,” the ends of Jabbers locs tickled Zanka’s shoulder.
Jabber leaned forward until only the end of the tip was left in before fucking himself back onto Zanka’s dick.
The continuous burn of his stretched hole was just enough to keep Jabber satisfied, but he could tell it wasn't enough for Zanka.
He could see it in his eyes; passion and rage filled them.
On any other day, Jabber would be happy to feel and fully embrace it, but he couldn’t. Not now, not when today was supposed to be about Zanka. Zanka was a prude when it came to himself; he played nonchalant for any accompaniment that revolved around him, he didn’t even like celebrating himself. All Jabber wanted was to celebrate him, their date was nice, but it wasn’t a celebration of Zanka. Maybe that was why Zanka liked it so much?
Displeasure curled in his stomach, he frowned.
Fuck it, He would just have to pull out all the stops, make Zanka feel so appreciated that he wouldn’t even want to lift a finger. Jabber pressed his face to Zanka’s, nuzzling his cheek. He pressed delicate kisses to Zanka’s face until reaching his ear.
“You treat me so well, Zan-Zan, making me come over and over again,” Jabber whispered in his ear. He then moved back to Zanka’s lips, giving them a soft peck, before trying to move away.
Zanka lurched forward and bit down on his lip.
Hard
Jabber trembled, whined, and then whimpered.
Pure sweet pain consumed his senses.
“Let me fuck you’, Let me go,” Zanka asked, his tone a mix of begging and demanding. He wriggled his wrists, trying to loosen Jabber’s hold.
Jabber shook his head, “Ahh-I can’t, I have to do this.”
Zanka glared. As if trying to force Jabber to let go with only his eyes.
Oh, those eyes.
No, he couldn’t let himself get distracted. He just wanted to please Zanka.
(If only the man would let him.)
He would just have to show him, bury any protest Zanka could have with pleasure.
Messily and unthoughtfully, Jabber slammed his hips down, forcing Zanka’s dick as deep as it could go, hitting Jabber’s prostate deadon. His mind blanked, every thought he had shot from one ear and left through the other. Every nerve in his body burned in reaction. His eyes watered, and his toes clenched.
"Oh-my fuckk." Jabber sloppily babbled, his hold weavering. Strength left his body for a split second. That was all Zanka needed. Before he could take back control. Zanka immediately thrust up, hitting his prostate.
At that moment, he knew he fucked up.
He left himself open. Completely vulnerable to the hungry man below him.
Jabber yelped, his nails dug into the thin skin of Zanka’s wrist, desperately trying to gain control back. His thighs squeezed around Zanka's sides, but Zanka kept moving. He surged forward again. Setting a relentless and desperate pace. Jabber put all his weight into his position, fighting for control.
Zanka didn't let him; things were finally going his way. He continued. Jabber wasn't heavy enough for his weight to substantially impact Zanka's movements, Zanka was stronger than him.
For once, Jabber regretted not eating as much as he should. Zanka always pestered him about it, but he never listened. Maybe if he had this would be easier. Jabber moaned, scratching into Zanka's chest.
Deep satisfaction welled in Zanka's chest; this was what he wanted. Jabber is being vulnerable, allowing Zanka to see a side of himself he showed no one else.
“I thought you were smarter than that.” Zanka mocked, his voice slightly out of breath.
Jabber’s mind was too much of a mess to think of a reply.
Zanka watched tears well up in his eyes, begging to be released from their prison. He wanted to lick them.
Despite the discomfort of his position, Zanka fought against the other hands and lunged forward. Ignoring the throbbing pain in his shoulders from being pushed opposite his neck. Zanka opened his mouth and bit down on Jabber’s neck. Digging his teeth as far as possible.
Breaking brown skin and shredding veins. The warm, metallic yet unquestionably delicious taste of Jabber's blood filled Zanka’s mouth. Jabber hissed in pain, his eyeballs pinched together in pain. Tendrils of blood poured down Jabber's chest. Zanka rocked up, and Jabber sobbed. His skin burned against Zanka's. Nobody could have this. This was all Zanka's doing.
So fucking good.
It was everything he needed.
He swallowed it, savoring the slick feel it made against his throat. Still, he didn’t release Jabbers neck, instead he sucked on the wound. Purple blobs formed on Jabbers skin, a groan left his throat.
Jabber’s mind was a mess; ever thought he had left his mind the moment Zanka touched him.
Biting, fucking into him, hurting him so well.
NoNoNo
He needed to gain control. The exact opposite of what he wanted was happening right now.
With a painful groan, Jabber tore his throat for Zanka’s mouth, ignoring the sweet pain that welled from the wound. Jabber pushed his full weight onto Zanka with all his might. Zanka yelped in irritation, and blood trickled from his lips and slid down his chin.
Jabber licked his own lips.
“Man, you're really startin’ to annoy me. Maybe I should have put something in your food, make ya’ relax a bit. It’d make this soo much easier.” Jabber hadn’t realized how out of breath he truly was.
“Be a good boy and let me take care of you, promise you’ll like it,” Jabber said, flexing his fingers, making sure Zanka couldn’t try to gain control like he previously did.
Zanka’s brows furrowed, “Where are you getting this idea that I need to be taken care of? I’m a grown man–”
“-It’s your birthday, you deserve a treat,” Jabber said, after checking his hold on Zanka’s wrist. Jabber didn’t wait for a reply, carefully he rose to his legs and sat down, tilting his hips so that the tip of Zanka’s cock couldn’t brush against his prostate.
Then he started to ride, keeping his pace controlled and coordinated with every movement. Brushing, but never hitting his prostate entirely. Letting Jabber feel the pleasure without it consuming his mind as it had previously.
Basically, the complete opposite of what they usually did in bed.
Zanka pressed his lips together, he wasn’t going to give Jabber the pleasure of hearing him until he got his act together.
But it was easier said than done; with every thrust of Jabber’s hips, Zanka could feel him start lose himself. All he senses were overwhelmed.
The way Jabber looked, his eyes were hazy and half-lidded, watery. His nipples were hard and inviting. Like they were demanding to be bitten. His soft thighs were splayed on either side of Zanka's hips, begging to be touched and those fucking panties. They cupped his hips so well, emphasizing the curviness of them, and the marks Zanka had left not so long ago.
How Jabber felt around him. His walls were so warm and tight, hugging Zanka's dick so well, clenching at the right moment and forcing Zanka to the edge of an orgasm he knew he couldn’t escape.
By the sound of Jabber choked off moans and barely concealed whines, his gasps when Zanka brushed against his prostate too hard. The slick sounds of their hips meeting with every thrust down.
All of it felt so right.
It made Zanka want to just take what Jabber was giving and give up.
His eyes clenched shut.
No, fuck no, he wasn’t doing that.
Zanka tilted his hips and rammed up. Hitting Jabber prostate as hard as he could. Pleasure overrode Jabber.
“Fuckkk." Jabber moaned.
Jabber slammed his hips down, trying to stop Zanka from moving, but it didn’t work. Instead, he kept pushing against the weight of Jabber. Fucking in, in, in.
Jabber sobbed, feeling the tip of Zanka's cock, nudge repeatedly against the tiny bundle of nerves.
His muscles wavered, but Jabber tried to keep strength, but Zanka kept going. Every movement he made became an overwhelming assault. Jabber couldn’t leave. At somepoint it didn’t even feel good anymore; his nerves were overstimulated and started to sting painfully. Zanka was hitting too hard, but he didn't stop.
Something was definitely going to bruise by the time this was over.
Zanka was fucking like he meant to kill Jabber-destroy him from the inside out.
Punched out, high-pitched sobbs left Jabbers throat.
The tears that had stayed for too long started to fall and cascade down his cheeks. Leaving hot rivets on his skin.
Everything was so hot, so painful.
It was fucking amazing. The pain just kept coming; Jabber was in hell.
His muscles turned to noodles, and before he knew it, he was collapsing onto the Zanka. The man let out a winded sound on impact.
Jabber’s hands left Zanka’s wrists and reached out for the bed sheets, clenching them in a death grip.
“Listen, cause I’m only gonna say this once. Sex between us goes both ways–” Zanka grabbed the back of Jabber’s neck and pulled his head back, making their eyes meet.
Slowly, he pulled out until only the tip of his cock remained inside.
The eye contact alone was enough to make Jabber clench on thin air and want to look away, it was too intimate. Suddenly, Jabber felt vulnerable, as if Zanka could see through his exterior entirely and was digging deeper, reaching for something Jabber had never shown to anyone.
“-I’m not a god damn statue, so let me fuck you.” Zanka's voice was rough and out of breath. Sweat dripped from his temple and slid down to his neck.
He wanted to fight back; this wasn’t supposed to happen, but it felt so good. He was supposed to please Zanka, show him how good he was. That was the goal.
But
If this pleased Zanka, then maybe giving up would be okay. It was Zanka’s birthday afterall.
Jabber relented.
“Okay,” he said in a soft and clipped tone.
Zanka let out a sigh of relief, “Thank god, cause I was getin’ tired of fightin’ to fuck you.”
Zanka slammed inside, not stopping until he was buried inside and engulfed as deeply as possible into Jabber.
Jabbers eyes couldn’t leave Zanka’s, amplifying the sensation.
Zanka set a relentless pace, fucking up into Jabber. Hitting his prostate with precision and careless strength. Moving as if he were fucking a toy and not a human being. Zanka's arms wrapped around Jabbers waist, pressing their bodies impossibly close. Jabbers dug his face into Zanka’s neck, sobbing directly into his ear.
One of his hands pulled at Zanka’s hair.
Zanka dug his nails into Jabbers back, leaving deep bloody marks behind.
Pleasure spiked. Creating an intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure, setting Jabber’s senses ablaze.
Zanka whispered in Jabber’s ear, “You were bein’ so fucking difficult, not listenin’ to a word I said.” Zanka bit deep into the spot between Jabber's neck and ear.
The skin was tough and sensitive, making the pain sting unbearably. Jabber sobbed in response, his walls gripped hard around Zanka. His nails dug into Zanka’s scalp so hard he could feel blood start to bead.
“Hurts so much, Zanka, keep going.” Jabber wept, pushing Zanka’s face in deeper into his neck.
“Fuckin’ masochist, I can feel you clench every time I bite you,” Zanka said, his voice trailing off into a deep moan.
“Mhm–I know you love it,” Jabber replied, rolling his hips to emphasize his point.
Zanka rolled his eyes before pushing himself up. Jabber wrapped his legs around Zanka’s hips. He placed his hand on Zanka’s shoulder, pressing them tightly together. Chest to chest, erection to stomach. His dick ground against Zanka's stomach. Leaving a white streak against his skin.
Zanka pulled Jabber into a deep kiss, Zanka bit Jabber’s lip, forcing him to open his mouth, Zanka's tongue entered and started to explore.
Zanka pressed his tongue against Jabber’s, curling and twisting around Jabber’s. Simultaneously, Zanka thrusted, hitting Jabbers sweet spot repeatedly. Jabber legs clenched around Zanka, pinning the man close.
Zanka hit Jabber’s prostate directly, relentlessly. The sensation was painful and delicious.
Jabber keened, the sound muffled on Zanka’s tongue.
Jabber could feel himself start to shake all over, he was close to cuming. He could feel it in his toes.
Jabber pulled away, breathless. His lips ached.
Zanka looked amazing. His cheeks were flushed, and perspiration covered his skin. He looked delicious. Jabber felt a deep instinctual need to taste him, consume all of Zanka that he could.
Jabber licked Zanka’s cheek, humming at the salty taste.
Jabber smiled, licking his lips, “Tasty.”
“You're so fuckin’ weird,” Zanka growled, before he rocked his hips impossibly harder and deeper into Jabber. Fucking Jabber on his cock, like it was the only thing he ever wanted to do. Jabber’s legs shook. His spine arched and twitched uncontrollably. He was getting closer and closer. The hand that used to be in Zanka’s hair started to claw his back.
“You're doing so fuckin good.” Jabber moaned out.
Zanka's hips spasmed uncontrollably. “Fuck.” His movements became uncontrolled, switching between rough and direct to soft and pressing.
The new rhythm only propelled Jabber closer to euphoria. Something about not knowing where Zanka was going to hit forced Jabber to stay alert, keeping his attention spiked to the cock brutally fucking him.
Zanka’s eyes were clenched shut, his eyebrows pinched together, and his mouth was agape. His stomach quaked, and his nails dug hard into Jabber.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” he gasped. Jabber could feel Zanka twitching erratically inside of him.
Zanka was just about to cum, and Jabber was happy to let him. Edging was fine with him. He was close anyway, just not as close as Zanka.
Zanka trembled, “I’m gonna cum.” he groaned out.
Jabber smiled, pressing biting kisses to Zanka's face and neck, “Do it, Zan. Let it out inside of me. I know you wanna.” Jabber said breathlessly. He rubbed his cheek against Zanka’s, then clenched around Zanka, helping him towards his orgasm.
Zanka’s voice shook and studdered as he spoke, “A-are ya’ close?”
Jabber hmed and shook his head, “Kinda, but that’s fine. Watchin’ you is enough.”
Zanka paused, his eyes snapped open, “What the fuck, Jabber? You shoulda’ told me.”
Jabber shrugged, “This is enough, it’s your birthday after all, I’ll probably cum during round two.” Jabber dragged his hand towards his cock, jerking it carelessly. “Don’t stop now, you were so close.” Jabber started to move.
Zanka frowned, “Fuck that were either cumin’ togther or not at all. Wrap your arms and legs around me, and don’t fuckin’ move.” Zanka's words left no argument.
Jabber rolled his eyes, while doing it, “Man, you could have already cum by now if you just kept goin', ”
Zanka hummed, moving himself until he was pressing against Jabbers prostate.
“You know I don’t do that. I’m not that type of person.” Zanka said, starting to thrust. Hitting Jabbers prostate dead on.
Instantly, Jabber's spine arched, “Z-Zan-Zan is too nice, If you keep doing that I’m goin’ to find someone that’ll be mean.” Jabber teased shakily.
His words would have irritated Zanka in any other circumstance, but Jabber's voice was too broken for it cause any anger.
“Keep talkin’ like that, and you won’t be able to walk,” Zanka said.
Jabber snickered, “Do your worst Bad attitude, you know I can take it.”
“Bet,” Zanka said before pulling out and plunging back in.
Jabber tucked his head into Zanka’s neck. He couldn’t move, all he could do was feel.
The air between them is humid and thick, immense and oppressive. The wet sound of skin clapping filled the room, creating a filthy symphony that neither wanted to or could stop.
Unlike the last time, Zanka didn’t let his own pleasure overwhelm him. He kept his movements precise. Using all the self-control he could to control his stuttered thrust and twitching thighs. But it was so difficult, and having to hold back only made the feeling grow stronger. Jabber moaning directly in his ear wasn’t helping either.
Fuck
At least now jabber would fall off the precipice with Zanka instead of staying behind.
The tip of his cock hit Jabber’s prostate every time; he made sure of it. Zanka bit an unmarked area of Jabber’s neck, using his flesh to conceal his moans.
Pleasure swept over Jabbers senses.
The pleasure tripled. Euphoria that had previously waned came back full force. Overpowering his control. His legs started to convulse, pre-cum started to leak, dripping from his tip all the way to the base of his cock. Jabber fingers gripped his cock hard, jerking from tip to base.
Painful and overbearing. Perfect.
Jabber let out a whine, “Keep goin’, hahh-I’m almost there.”
Zanka didn’t respond; he couldn’t, but he started to go harder. Making the headboard slam against the nearby wall, and the bad frame quiver. A dent that was already on the wall was deepened with every thrust.
Oh well
Zanka knew he was getting close, he was about to cum at any moment, but it didn’t seem like Jabber was. Even with Jabber fucked out, moans and quivering hips, Zanka knew instinctively that Jabber wasn’t close.
Jabber was going to cum after Zanka, and Zanka couldn’t have that.
Jabber was already bitten and bruised, but if he didn’t cum with Zanka, then it wouldn’t be enough–it wouldn’t satisfy. What kind of person did that make him if he couldn’t make his own boyfriend orgasm?
He had done it a hundred times, so technically it wouldn't be that bad, but still.
Zanka panted–desperately, he tried to talk but couldn't. He tugged on Jabber's braid, drawing Jabber's attention to him. Jabber moaned in pain, his eyes meeting Zanka's. Giving Zanka his full attention. Zanka panted, “Shi-stick yer’ tongue out.” Zanka blushed at his mix-up.
Why was speaking so hard?
Jabber was too distracted to see his mistake. Clumsily, he leaned back and stuck out his tongue; ragged breaths tumbled out of his mouth. Zanka swallowed them; he sucked on Jabbers tongue and played with it for a moment before biting down.
Extremely hard.
Blood and pain unfurled. Jabber shuddered.
Then Zanka started to suck, swallowing the blood from Jabber's mouth into his own. Extending the pain.
Every muscle in Jabber shuddered to a halt–freezing. Everything shattered, and nothing rebuilt. Everything disappeared, and Jabber convulsed, again and again. His moans were muffled by Zanka’s mouth.
Jabber clenched around Zanka, and that was more than enough for the other to tip over the edge.
Zanka came, and he came hard.
He twitched relentlessly inside of Jabber, once, then twice before exploding, painting his insides white. Waves upon waves of pleasure unleashed, overthrowing all of his senses.
His cock was pressed directly onto Jabbers prostate.
Jabber babbled something, but Zanka wasn’t sure what he said; his nails dug so hard into Zanka’s back that Zanka swore he could feel tendons and veins break.
Jabber sobbed.
The feeling just kept coming in waves; every time Jabber thought he was about to escape, he’d be pulled under. It felt like his orgasm lasted hour's, but it couldn't have been more the few minutes at most.
When he opened his eyes, all he could see was blue.
Zanka’s teary eyes stared back at him.
Jabber pulled back, panting hard. His mind foggy.
Zanka could feel sweat trickle down the back of his neck.
Their skin was slick from sweat and cum. It was so humid between them that it was hard to breathe. So slick that when Jabber pulled his legs away, they stuck to Zanka's skin for a second before separating and left a damp mark.
Kinda gross.
Zanka’s hair was damp, and strands fell in opposite directions. He leaned back, tossing his head back. In the warm, his skin had an ethereal glow to it, his lips were swollen and red.
Jabber leaned forward, combing his fingers through the strands.
Zanka dragged his moist hand up Jabber’s back and clenched the back of his neck, pulling Jabber into a deep and bloody kiss. He kissed like he was trying eat Jabber whole. The hunger hadn’t faded.
He pulled away, a single string of saliva broke apart at the separation, “Ya’ said three rounds, right?”
Jabber gave a lazy nod, “Get ’em whenever you want.” Jabber leaned back; the fraction of space between them burned.
“I’m cashin' all in them in now,” Zanka said, pushing Jabber down onto the bed.
Jabber cackled.
Round 2
Jabber hadn’t thought he could get any closer to the pearly gates after his last orgasm, but Zanka was proving him wrong.
Very quickly.
What was this man made of? Spite and sadism?
The panties had been pulled back on Jabber, concealing and restraining his dick, but his ass was uncovered. Zanka had ripped a hole in the back of his panties just so that he could have easy access.
Jabber mourned his poor panties; they would be out of commission for a long time. If they weren’t completely destroyed by Zanka by the time their fuck fest was over. Jabber gasped as the fingers encircling his neck tightened and pushed him further into the bed. Zanka’s nails were breaking skin, creating tiny crescents on Jabber’s damaged skin.
Zanka plowed in deep, reaching as far as humanly possible. Unlike the last round, Zanka didn’t try to move, instead he grinded. Going deep, deep, deep, without ever pulling out.
Jabber was never given any respite; he was still high from his first orgasm, and he was now quickly moving towards his second. Every time Zanka brushed against his prostate, his legs spasmed, and cock spurted a thin line of cum.
His legs hadn’t stopped shaking since Zanka started. Cum poured past his rim and pooled onto the mattress. With every thrust, more cum was pushed out of him.
His nerves were on fire. Every touch made him shake, drool leaked past his lips, soaking Zanka’s hand, but Zanka didn't seem to care.
Zanka’s breath was labored and ragged; beads of sweat fell from him and onto Jabber. The blue of his eyes glimmered in the light, looking at him with obsessed intensity. Zanka ground against his sweet spot, watching his reaction.
Jabber made a choked out noise, his legs grew limp and slid down Zanka’s back, falling to the bed uselessly. Jabber tried to lift them, but they were unresponsive.
His legs had given up on him. That had never happened before.
Glee filled Jabber's heart, of course, his boyfriend would be the one to break him and make him feel something nobody else has done before. Jabber grinned, “D-damn Zan-Zan, I didn’t think you were serious.” his voice was wrecked, dry, and breathless. Zanka ignored him and kept moving.
Jabber continued grabbing his legs and pulled it to his chest, “I can barely feel my legs”. Jabber was going to continue until Zanka gave him a reaction, but before he could, Zanka delivered another thrust. It reached somewhere the perviouse one's hadn't, Jabber shook. Wherever Zanka was touching, it was far to sensitive.
Jabber tried to lay his legs back down, but Zanka grabbed them and threw them over his shoulders. Bending Jabber in half in the process, the uncomfortable strain from the position only amplified Jabber's arousal.
Inadvertently, the new position allowed Zanka to press on that spot easily.
TomuchTomuchTomuch
Zanka leaned closer, “Keep yer’ legs right here,” he commanded. In warning, his nails pinched into the sensitive skin on the back of Jabber's knees. He ground hard into Jabber, watching the Jabber reaction.
Zanka was being mean, unyielding, sadistic.
Jabber sobbed. Tears of pleasure blurred his vision.
Jabber loved it.
Zanka reveled in it.
Jabber was a mess beneath him, flushed and shaking. His eyes were wet and hazy, watching Zanka, only Zanka. Unable to do anything other than take it. He couldn’t leave.
Bitten, marked, claimed. His braid was a mess; some of his locs had fallen out of the style and were splayed upon the bed, others were still in it, but were soon to fall out. Zanka slid his thumb into Jabbers mouth, pressing down on his tongue. He gathered his saliva and spat in Jabber’s mouth.
“Swallow it.” Zanka rasped, but he didn’t remove his finger; he wanted to feel Jabber’s throat when he swallowed.
Jabber let a broken laugh.
His lips closed around Zanka’s fingers and sucked. The soft tissue of Jabber’s tongue contorted around Zanka. Zanka pressed deeper, feeling as Jabber quivered from the inside. From the outside, he could see Jabber’s adams apple roll, gagging on him.
Zanka's hips stuttered for a moment before going harder.
Zanka slid his finger out of Jabber's mouth and put it in his own. “Delicious. ” Zanka murmured.
He went back down, pressing his lips to Jabber's in an all-consuming kiss. He forced his tongue into Jabber's mouth, taking-consuming all he could. Jabber moaned, not even attempting to fight back.
Zanka tightened his hold on Jabbers neck. Forcing out any air Jabber had left out.
Pain, excruciating, unbearable pain, flooded Jabbers senses.
His heart beat pumped wildly in his ear, his legs shook on Zanka’s shoulders, but they didn't fall, they couldn't. Zanka kept them pinned to his shoulders. Jabber's lungs burned with the need for air, but Zanka continued. Pounding in as hard and fast as he wanted.
It was so fucking hot.
Zanka thusted In
Jabber could feel his head start to go lightheaded and unbearably dizzy; his hand dug into Zanka’s skin, trying and failing to ground himself to the moment.
And then out
Zanka’s tongue brushed against the back of Jabber’s throat, and saliva filled his mouth. He automatically swallowed, but nothing went down. Zanka's hands were too tight around his neck. jabber made a choked-out sound. It hurt badly.
Zanka paused and slammed back in.
Vaguely, Jabber realized the sides of his vision were starting to darken, everything narrowed down to the man in front of him. When he looked closely, he could see faint dots blocking his view of Zanka. Strange. Jabber knew he should think deeper about what those were, but he couldn't.
He slid out
Jabber realized everything was scorching, unbearably warm. Sweat pored from his skin, but his limbs were clammy and cold. His legs became heavy as lead, and strength he was aware he had started to disappear.
Instinctual Panic filled his mind, he needed to breathe. His lungs burned with need. It felt so fucking good. His brain was warning him, begging him to push Zanka's hand away, but he didn't. instead he laughed, it was a stifled sound.
He might actually die. Not a bad way to go.
Zanka
Jabber closed his eyes.
And sharp, warm air filled his lungs, he cums. His walls gripped Zanka’s cock hard, hugging him like a second skin.
Zanka swears, his hips jerk and convulse, befor cuming. Another load fills Jabber‘s hole.
The tiny damp spot that lay on the bed was starting to turn into a puddle.
Round 3
“Don’t fuckin’ stop, I’m so close.” Jabber croaked, gripping the sheets so hard they were pulled from the bed.
He threw his ass back, responding to the motion of Zanka’s thrust.
Zanka wrapped his arms around Jabbers front, pressing his back to Zanka’s front. One of Jabbers legs was tossed over Zanka’s hip. Their pace was hurried and frenzied, both of them were exhausted, but they couldn’t lose to each other.
Neither would let the other hear the end of it, if they did. So here they were fucking like they were on a mission to prove each other wrong.
Zanka tossed his head back, “Fuck, keep movin' like that.” Everything was sore, his back stung badly. But his dick ached, urging him to climax. Jabber moaned in response, tossing his ass back again and again. Desperate to orgasm and sleep.
An incredibly slick smacking sound filled the room. Every time Jabber’s ass met Zanka’s pelvis, a thin line of cum would follow.
Just this last one, just one more.
Jabber face was covered by his locs; his braid was completely gone, destroyed by Zanka. Zanka yanked at his locs, making Jabber's neck arch uncomfortably. Jabber whimpered. Zanka felt how tight Jabber got when he did it.
Jabber slid a little farther away, until Zanka was only halfway in, and slammed down.
“Jus’ like that,” Zanka groaned, dragging Jabber into a deep kiss by his hair, toying with Jabber's bitten and bloody tongue. Feeling great satisfaction when Jabber sobbed into the kiss, his tears soaked Zanka's cheek.
Jabber guided Zanka’s hand to his stomach, pressing his palm into the faint bump, “You feel so good inside me,” he moaned.
When Zanka pulled out, he felt the divot disappear.
Fuck
“Does it hurt?” Zanka asked. Knowing what answer he wanted to hear. Zanka pressed on it hard, digging his fingers into the sensitive skin. Jabber's stomach flinched, trying to escape Zanka's painful hold.
“So much.” Jabber babbled out, “Feels like I’m being ripped apart.” Jabber trembled, throwing his head into the sheets as he kept moving. His walls clenched so hard around Zanka that he could feel the blood flow slow. Zanka’s toes curled.
Zanka’s other hand tugged and pulled on Jabbers nipple. He leaned down and pressed bites and hickies onto the back of Jabber’s neck. Jabbers moans were muffled in the sheets. Usually, Zanka would care, but he was too tired. He was running on fumes, and Jabber didn’t look much better.
Zanka pulled out, and at the same time Jabber did as well. Allowing Zanka’s dick to slip out accidentally.
The cold air on his sensitive skin was a shock to his system. Jabber looked behind him, his eyes red-rimmed and desperate. He whined, “Put it back in.”
“I’m gonna.” Zanka murmured before grabbing his cock and trying to push back in.
It was easier said than done. Zanka's mind was too hazy every time he tried to press in; he’d slip out.
Jabber made a stilted sound and blindly reached behind him. He grabbed Zanka’s dick and guided him back in. Zanka pushed in, sighing at the warmth enveloping him. Jabber sobbed as it entered, his rim clenched around Zanka's cock. Gripping it like it couldn’t bear to let him go.
They started again, they fucked desperately. Chasing their orgasms, it didn’t feel like fucking each other; instead, it felt like they were using each other's bodies as tools to get what they wanted.
Jabber rode Zanka’s dick like it was objected not connected to a human being, and Zanka used Jabber’s hole like a toy. Fucking into Jabber with no regard for anything aside from his goal. His brutal pace left red, painful welts on Jabber's ass.
"Harder," Jabber babbled, and Zanka listened, fucking back in as hard as he physically could. The bed squealed and bent in protest, but neither noticed. Zanka kept hammering in, despite protest from his body. When his hips would stutter to a halt, Jabber would take control, keeping the brutal pace going when Zanka couldn't.
They fucked like animals, and as the pleasure grew, the brutality did too. Zanka left deep bites on Jabbers neck, reaching for anything he could reach, including places he had already bitten, digging his teeth in disturbingly deep. Jabber clawed at the sheets, ripping them. His cries were a mix of a wounded animal and a deranged madman. In between his sobs, he would laugh. Zanka shouldn't have found it as hot as he did.
Jabber curled into himself. Zanka cried out, runting into Jabber, hitting his prostate. Jabber sobbed, crumpling the bed sheets in his hand. "Good boy, you're doing so good," he praised.
Zanka's mind blanked, his balls tightened, and before he realized it, he started to cum. The tip of his cock pressed firmly against Jabber's prostate, overwhelming Jabber's senses, tipping him over the edge.
The feeling was immense and shattering for both of them, just like all the other orgasms, but this one carried a finality.
They were done.
A few minutes of silence stretched by. Post-nut clarity was hitting both of them hard.
The mess between them was gross. Zanka knew he needed to get up and clean it, but he just couldn't.
Jabber shakily reached between their bodies and covered his fingers in Zanka’s cum. He lifted it to his lips and licked it.
“Happy birthday, Boy.”
End