Zanka is not weak. Zanka is strong. He spends years cultivating his skills and his power to be stronger than he has ever been. Zanka would be damned if he has to show even an ounce of weakness in front anyone.
And, yet.
"Five more minutes," the words are said, holding a promise that Zanka doubts will be kept.
Zanka can say he has tried to push harder, to let himself go, to escape.
And, yet.
"Five more minutes," the words are said, carrying the obvious lies now, especially because they have been repeated countless times before this.
"Enjin—" Zanka calls, means to chide but the name only comes out breathlessly. Enjin hums his affirmation against his neck, and Zankas finds himself baring himself, giving him easier access. Zanka has to force himself to remember what he is going to say. "Stop it, I've promised Rudo, we're gonna spar this evening."
"Can you just," Enjin takes his time to map Zanka's exposed collarbone with his teeth. "skip?"
Zanka bites his lips, surprising his moans. Enjin has to notice that he can barely contains his voice, because he squeezes his waist and sucks another hickey on his skin.
"Enjin—"
"Rudo can spare with Riyo," Enjin licks the freshly made kissmark. "Or Follo." He nuzzles Zanka's ear, the tassels must be tickling his nose. "Or anyone."
"And you," he pulls back, just a slight—before a smirk dangerously blooms on his lips. "Can always train with me."
He traces Zanka's lower lips with his thumb, before tugging it open gently.
"I'm your mentor too, after all," Enjin whispers, the amber turns into a darker shade of molten gold, when Zanka closes his lips around the thumb.
Zanka can feel Enjin's hand caresses his waist, each digit taps rhythmically over him, like Zanka is an instrument he can't wait to play.
"So, what do you say, Zanzan," Enjin licks his lips. "Don't you think, a good mentor has to have a proper training too?"
Zanka is not weak. Zanka is strong. He spends years cultivating his skills and his power to be stronger than he has ever been. Zanka would be damned if he has to show even an ounce of weakness in front anyone.
And, yet.
"I hate you," Zanka grumbles, but he reaches for Enjin's neck; pulling him down, pulling him closer.
Enjin grins against the mouth flailing open, ready to welcome him.
"You love me."
And Zanka, unfortunately very much does.
