Forgot I had permission for this so this is what I'm thinking for the snippet from jabber pov
If ur down for something like back before jabber got hurt, that would be fun! Maybe expanding on, to quote, "Sleepy, desperate handjobs and shower blowjobs and a lot of tired, lazy dry humping that didn't always amount to anything."
(It's the way I've pictures those scenes so many times teehee)
Besides that... perhaps them being in the car/one of them pressed against the wall, but if ur looking to write off an existing scene, I've been thinking abt after zanka patches up jabbers stab wound or after Zanka sees jabbers first match? Whatever you wanna do b 💕
Ive never written Jabbers pov before so this will be interesting 😅 im not sure exactly when this would be set but in my head its still before their first time having sex.
(Also having finished this little bit, I have to say. I really loved getting to show how smitten Jabber is too ohhhh my god)
Okay, here we go:
"You breathin' funny."
Blue eyes narrowed and locked onto Jabber. Zanka's pale cheeks were flushed red all the way to the tip of his ears. There was a searing heat in his gaze, something hungry and fierce.
It made Jabber's blood sing.
Just like it had earlier when he was in the ring, toying with his opponent, slipping out of grasp and blocking solid, powerful hits. Like it had when he caught Zanka glancing at Cthoni, as if he was holding his breath waiting for her to nod and give Jabber permission to end the fight.
His eyes had become hungry, bloodthirsty when Cthoni gave that imperceptible nod, body perched forward to watch Jabber unleash a fraction of his strength. He might have showed off a little. He might have been a little crueler, teasing and taunting between combos that had his opponent gasping and stumbling. Partially for Zanka. Partially because he'd overheard the asshole make a comment about Zanka in the first round. Something about stealing him, taking a turn, and pretty blue eyes. So yeah, Jabber had a point to make.
Because Zanka was watching him. Because Zanka was his.
And when the idiot landed facedown, spraying blood and sweat, boneless and unconscious, the cheers that swelled around the gym had nothing on the feral grin on Zanka's face. Nothing on the way his eyes clouded when Jabber wiped at a smudge of blood on his face with his arm.
Jabber grinned as he was declared the winner, sending Zanka a wink while he caught his breath.
After the match was over, people kept coming up to him. To congratulate him, to ask him for tips for their own matches. Cthoni gave him his usual recap, reminding him not to get a big head. And the whole while, Jabber would notice Zanka with his friends, looking a little annoyed, a little restless. So much so that by the time Jabber got to them, Riyo and Rudo had barely gotten out their words of praise before Zanka was insisting they had to hurry up and leave to get food.
His friends just rolled their eyes and conceded, already used to his impatience. Zanka took his hand and practically hauled him out of the gym and to his car. Jabber could only grin and watch him huff and mutter, so completely unaware of himself.
But it was in his breaths. The uneven inhale and exhale, the shakiness of them, the way his hands trembled with restless energy.
So Jabber had some mercy on him. Trailed his fingers along the back of his neck, feeling him tense beneath him, watching that gorgeous flush spread across his face.
And despite the glare when Jabber commented on his breathing, he felt him relax under his fingers as he kneaded gently at his nape.
"It's hot in here," Zanka mumbled, turning the A/C up.
"Mm."
Jabber used his fingers to turn Zanka's head toward him. He could see the conflict in his eyes. The consuming need for touch but the fear of where it came from. Or maybe he knew, he just didn't want to face it. The fact that watching Jabber hurt people could stir something in him.
Jabber used his other hand to pull one Zanka's toward his face. Then he guided Zanka's fingers to a bruise across his cheekbone and pressed his fingertips against it, drawing out a soft grunt from himself. Zanka tried to pull back, but Jabber kept his hand in place, drawing him nearer with the hand at the back of his neck.
"'S'okay," he murmured. "Feels good."
Zanka stared back, leaned in closer, gaze falling to Jabber's lips.
Someone's headlights turned on, shining in through the windshield, and Zanka snatched away. His hands moved to grip the steering wheel as he turned a little more red, now out of embarrassment. Jabber glared at the car in the next line of parking spots. They'd reversed parked, and were far enough away that they hadn't even realized Zanka and Jabber were in their car. But a few people were still lingering in the lot, heading to their cars, more headlights sweeping across randomly.
Jabber grunted and hauled himself up and over the glove compartment, sliding backward into the backseat.
"The hell are ya doin'?" Zanka asked, flinching as Jabber's limbs grazed him. He looked back bewildered.
Jabber grinned and slid over. "C'mon."
Zanka looked at him like he was crazy, opened his mouth like he wanted to protest, still distracted by the shadows of people walking on the other side of the tinted glass. Then Jabber tugged his shirt off, and he could practically see the moment Zanka stopped caring about anything else. He clenched his jaw, undid his seatbelt, and clambered into the backseat with a huff and a laugh that was promptly swallowed by Jabber's lips.
Without any preamble, Jabber shifted onto his lap, and angled Zanka's head to kiss him deeper, to settle closer. When Zanka's hands went to his thighs and slid to his ass to squeeze, to tug him closer, Jabber's body lit up.
It was a fascinating thing. No one had ever been able to make Jabber feel that way. Not with a simple touch like that. It was kind of terrifying. Painful, even. And he loved it.
He pushed at the flannel shirt Zanka had on, sliding it over his shoulders. He felt a swell of pride and a series of sparks underneath his skin when Zanka shifted to let him pull it off, leaving him in a muscle shirt. He dug his fingers into the muscle of his biceps feeling the strength and power within, especially as Zanka's arms wrapped around him to pull him in as Zanka's mouth latched onto his neck.
His teeth were merciless, paired with rough, demanding hands squeezing at his waist, digging into developing bruises from hits he didn't bother blocking. He could feel the stiffness of his erection against the inside of his thigh, and he rocked against it making Zanka growl and bite down harder. Heat surged through Jabber, shooting up his spine and spreading to each limb.
He tugged at his shirt haphazardly, pulling it over Zanka's head before immediately going for his jeans, unbuttoning him deftly.
"No," Zanka gasped, hands gripping his wrists.
Disappointment— and a touch of hurt— flooded Jabber's chest. He had hoped Zanka wasn't too caught up in his head, but maybe Jabber had just pushed too much too fast. Was it the car? His guilt? He didn't want to pry and make it worse.
"Sorry. Above the waist only?"
Something shone in Zanka's eyes, something soft that made Jabber a little uneasy. Zanka bit at his lips and shook his head.
"Nah. I jus' meant... I ain't the one who won a match with a knockout."
Before Jabber could clarify, Zanka had him by the hips, nudging him to lay down across the seat. It was a little chaotic getting their legs up and positioning properly, a little clumsy and awkward, but it all only made Zanka grin with those adorably flushed cheeks, and damn, Jabber was down bad for him. Because that little expression alone shouldnt have been enough to have him feeling so fucking desperate.
He pulled Zanka into a searing kiss, swallowing the gasp, the soft moan, tongue tracing the ridges of his teeth. He wanted to be mauled. He wanted the imprint of his teeth again and again. The little divot he'd left the night they met was barely noticeable anymore. He wanted Zanka so caught up in the tangle of their limbs that he didn't hold back all those urges he was so scared of. Surely he knew Jabber would indulge them all?
Zanka grunted as Jabber bit his lip too hard, leaving the sweet, smooth metallic taste of blood to dance on his tongue. Jabber sucked, and Zanka's hips stuttered only to grind down harder.
Jabber took a sharp breath, and Zanka took the chance to trail his kisses lower, sucking and nipping harshly as he made his way down his throat, over his clavicle, across his chest, slowly making his way lower while lavishing him with rough, hungry kisses that were more teeth than lips.
Then he stopped. His hands smoothed over Jabber's torso as he rested on his knees, awkwardly bent so he wouldn't hit the roof of the car. His half-lidded gaze was locked on him, but the pressure of his hands, while solid and firm, was too damn gentle.
"What is it?" Jabber breathed out, feeling oddly exposed.
Zanka hummed and ran his finger along the center of his torso, from the hollow of his throat to his navel. "Yer so beautiful," he whispered.
Jabber felt his body heat rise, and it was suddenly hard to breathe. Zanka must have noticed the hitch in his panting breaths because he looked at him with an arched brow and a somewhat smug little smile.
"What?" he asked.
Jabber shrugged. "Feels weird when you say shit like that. I 'on know what to say."
Zanka nodded slowly. "Ya want me to stop?"
He wasn't really sure. It was strange for someone to catch him off guard. He didn't know what to do with the softness. But it wasn't... bad. Just new. Something he wasn't used to, like the way Zanka always yanked him against his chest before bed and wrapped him up in his arms.
Slowly, Jabber shook his head. "'M pretty good with weird," he answered.
The smile that graced Zanka's face made Jabber want to die. His heart fluttered too quickly in has chest, his ribs felt like they were collapsing into his lungs, and Jabber didn't know how he had ever survived without Zanka in his life.
"Move up," Zanka commanded, nudging him by his hips.
Jabber shimmied up until his back was against the car door and his legs had the space to stretch out along the seat. Zanka smiled and kissed him again, nipping at his tongue then at his lip while his hands tugged at the elastic of his shorts. His hand slipped underneath and Jabber could only toss his head back as Zanka moved his palm against him.
Impatient as ever, Zanka adjusted himself until it was easier to tug Jabber's clothes away and wrap his mouth him, hot and wet and eager.
He let out a shaky exhale of Zanka's name as his fingers tangled themselves in messy blond hair. For a fleeting moment, and not for the first time, Jabber thought he might just believe in god.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
Okay im stopping there because this got longer than expected and you requested a makeout not... all this 😂 hope you enjoy!! It was fun to go back in time for them