Chapter Text
The air inside the dojo always smelled like sweat, floor polish, and the faint sweetness of the incense he burned near the front window. The sound of gloves smacking pads echoed through the room a steady, practiced rhythm that matched Jabber’s grin.
He wasn’t the best fighter there, but he was definitely the loudest.
Every jab came with a joke, every dodge with a half-laugh.
“Keep that guard up,” Zodyl barked from across the mat.
“Can’t help it if I’m too fast,” Jabber said, dodging another punch from Cthoni, who looked about ready to swing for real.
Cthoni caught him anyway with a light tap to the ribs and Jabber hissed, staggering back.
“Fast, huh?” Cthoni said, smirking. “You’re slower than that Fuckass Wi-Fi in the dorms.”
Noerde snorted from the sidelines, the dojo was a pretty highend looking dojo yet not many people were in it. Supposedly because of the intense rumours coming from the person who owns it but who knows, those who are currently in it are just a bunch of idiots at the moment.
Training eventually wound down, gloves came off, and Zodyl started closing up for the night. The group lingered tired, sweaty, restless
The end of training always hit hardest that heavy quiet after the sound of gloves and shoes faded out.
The was sprawled across the mat.
Jabber sat cross-legged near the edge, sweat dripping from his jaw, scrolling his phone while Cthoni complained about the bruises on his shins. Zodyl was still at the counter, muttering about paperwork, ignoring their noise. Noerde was using a mirror that was forcibly installed inside to comb her hair, and Bundas was moreover attempting to help Zodyl
“Yo,” Cthoni said suddenly, tossing her water bottle aside. “You ever see that guy in your uhh, economics I think.. the one who always walks with the two rich kids?”
Jabber didn’t look up. “That’s half the kids here bruh.”
“No, no, the quiet one. The one with the weird ass hair. Always looking emo as hell or some shit.”
Jabber snorted. “Zanka?”
“Yeah! Him.” Cthoni sat up straighter, pointing at him like he’d just confirmed a conspiracy theory. “I swear to god, that dude hasn’t smiled once this semester. Always walking around like the world’s too loud for him. The two people he’s always with—Tamsy and Riyo, right?—they talk, he just stands there. He’s like a statue with money.”
Jabber grinned. “You sure you’re not just jealous he dresses better than you?”
Cthoni ignored him. “I’m serious.”
Noerde looked at the two from the mirror reflection, continuing to comb her hair. “You’ve got classes in the same building, yeah? You should try talking to him.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because I bet you three hundred bucks you can’t make him laugh before midterms.” cthoni added, which caused Noerde to whip her head around
Jabber paused mid-swipe.
“Three hundred?” “THREE HUNDRED??” Noerde added concerned.
“Three hundred,” Cthoni repeated, deadpan. “I can’t even lie, he looks like he’s allergic to joy. You, on the other hand, think you’re God’s gift to social life. Let’s see what happens when unstoppable charisma meets unbothered trust fund.”
Zodyl groaned without looking up. “If this turns into another campus incident, I’m revoking everyone’s gym privileges.”
Jabber just leaned back on his hands, smirking. “You’re serious about the money?”
Cthoni grinned. “Cash. Straight from my scholarship fund.”
“Then it’s on.” Jabber stood, cracking his neck with exaggerated confidence. “Three hundred bucks and a good laugh.. easy win!”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Noerde said. “I happen to know a thing or two about him and his little circle.”
“Shh Noerde i got this, just watch I’ll do this all by myself,” Jabber said, already slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Every fortress has a weak spot.”
Cthoni raised an eyebrow. “You’re ridiculous.”
Jabber winked. “I’m talented.”
Bundas yelled “ALRIGHT ALL OF YOU GUYS OUT OF HERE!!”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP GRAMPS!!” Jabber bit back from the doors,
“GRAMPS??? I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW JABBER, I’M AT THE RIPE AGE OF FORT-”
Jabber slammed the dojo doors, sweat still beading down his forehead how hard could this bet be? Can’t be exaggerating that much when u say he’s made of steel.
It was the evening around 7-8 PM, the dormitory which jabber stayed in was probably a good 45 minute walk from the dojo. He didn’t really mind too much since he was getting the cardio he wanted. Though, this time he was really second guessing himself because he wished he’d biked instead..
Fuck thats right, he needs to get his bike insured with the local police so the stupid shit doesnt get stolen.. Honestly it was too much work.
“Haven’t talked to momoa at all today..” he muttered to himself under his breathe pulling out his phone from his shorts pocket
Jabber unlocked his phone, squinting against the brightness. The dorm chat had blown up while he’d been at practice—as usual.
“yo jabber you alive?”
“dojo cult got u again?”
“cthoni posted ur ribs getting clapped 💀💀💀”
He groaned out loud, thumbing a reply.
jabber: tell cthoni she can catch another L anytime.
noerde: you say that every week and still end up whining about shin bruises.
cthoni: say it to my face light skin.
He pocketed his phone before it could escalate, mentally noting to beat Cthoni’s ass the next time they spar. The night air outside the dojo hit his skin like cold water, sharp, humid, and smelling faintly of rain on concrete. The streets were mostly empty this late, just the hum of passing cars and the occasional pair of students cutting through the alleyways toward the main road.
It wasn’t a bad walk, not really. Just long enough to make him think too much.
By the time he reached the dorm, the sky had gone from deep blue to the kind of cloudy gray that promised rain. He swiped his keycard and stepped into the lobby, bright fluorescent lights, a front desk stacked with takeout bags, and the faint buzz of someone’s Bluetooth speaker playing an R&B playlist.
He lived on the fourth floor, where the noise never stopped someone always blasting music, someone else gaming through the night, the hallways smelling faintly of cheap detergent and cologne.
When he reached his door, he opened his door unfortunately being greeted to no one, it probably would’ve been cheaper to room with someone but Jabber had gotten in on an unintentional full scholarship. Jabber tossed his duffel near his desk and collapsed on his bed.
Three hundred bucks.
He could actually use that. New gloves, maybe a better pair of shoes since his were starting to split near the soles, probably weed.. Drugs?? Who knows what else he could use it for..
But Zanka?
He’d seen him around.. once, twice, maybe three times max. The guy looked like he walked out of a designer catalog and into an existential crisis. Always in sleek shit, always quiet, and always flanked by those two—Tamsy and Riyo. Riyo was loud, all teeth and confidence; Tamsy looked like he knew everyone’s business but never shared his own. Together, they looked fucking stupid.
He heard his phone buzz again
Cthoni: Bet starts tomorrow. Don’t wuss out chicken
Jabber: Bro please He’ll be laughing by breakfast
He stared at the screen for a beat, thumb hovering.
He’d never even talked to Zanka. Only seen him. walking past the library steps calm and quiet, the kind of presence that made everyone else seem too loud.. in a way Zanka seemed comforting—whatever! Not the point.
The thought made Jabber grin to himself.
“Three hundred bucks,” he muttered. “And a smile. Easy.”
Jabber huffed, flipping onto his stomach.
Maybe he could “accidentally” bump into them tomorrow. Casual. Organic. Normal guy stuff.
He set an alarm, tossed his phone on the pillow, and dozed off to the low hum of dorm noise filtering through the walls.
. . . .
The campus buzzed with caffeine, maybe stress, and the smell of wet grass after last night’s rain. Jabber was half awake, walking backwards through the quad as he hyped up some first-year about joining the dojo. He didn’t notice where he was going until someone cleared their throat.
He turned, words dying in his throat.
There he was.
Zanka, standing near the edge of the quad, coffee in one hand, listening to Riyo talk while Tamsy typed something on his phone. Even from a distance, the guy looked expensive — neat white sweater, pressed slacks, silver watch glinting in the sun. His expression hadn’t changed once.
Riyo noticed Jabber staring first. “The hell are you looking at?”
Jabber blinked, grinning instinctively. “You, obviously.”
Riyo snorted. “Try harder, pretty boy.”
Zanka didn’t even glance his way just took a sip of coffee, eyes on something else entirely.
Jabber’s grin twitched.
So that’s how it was.
“Alright,” he muttered under his breath, “so we’re playing hard mode.”
Jabber walked up to the duo, noting that Tamsy wasn’t with the two.
“So the cute girl with the ginger hair is Riyo, and Mr. Bad attitude over here is Zanka I presume?”
Riyo giggled, patting Zanka on the shoulder roughly as a warning ‘to show some fucking respect’.
“Who the hell are ya’ givin’ me nicknames?” He said, not trying to sugar coat his tone which made Riyo physically face palm.
Jabber held up his hands in mock surrender. “Whoa, whoa, calm down, man. I’m just sayin’—gotta put names to faces. Helps with… conversation.” He pondered the word for a second.
Zanka raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “I don’t need names for people I don’t care about.”
“Pshh.. Never said you needed to know my name Mr. Bad attitude, that can be something we learn along the way.” Jabber responded, his tone sly.
“Wait Z, you don’t know Jabber? He’s known for hosting THE parties ever.. Well you probably wouldn’t know shit about that would you..” she sighed
“Wasn’t he also known for like sellin’ wee-” Riyo slapped a hand around Zanka’s mouth which led out a chuckle from Jabber’s mouth, zanka’s squirming in anger in Riyo’s grasp.
“That was me a while ago.. I dont do that shi’ no more! Promise~”
When riyo let go Zanka had a slight pout “Yeah? Like I’d give a shit ‘bout yer’ weed selling activities..”
Jabber grinned, leaning casually against the railing. “Fair enough. But hey, everyone deserves a little fun, right? Even you.”
Riyo rolled her eyes dramatically, elbowing Zanka. “Ughh, this is soo fruity..” she muttered, sticking her tongue out playfully getting yet another laugh from Jabber.
“See, she already thinks we’re meant to be~”
Zanka didn’t respond. He just adjusted the sleeve of his sweater and took a careful sip of his coffee, eyes scanning the quad as if Jabber wasn’t even there.
He checked his watch, almost spitting his coffee out “Holy shit, ’m gonna be late for my economics lecture”
He left without saying goodbye to the two practically sprinting the hell out of there.
“Jabber aren’t you in his economics? You should be running too no?..” Riyo deadpanned.
“Wait how do you— shit youre right, peace out cutie!!”
. . . .
Jabber walked in a few minutes late not having the energy to actually run. The black hoodie he was wearing was now half on, one arm being out of the hoodie while the other is inside—it showed a good amount of his figure since the tanktop he was wearing was quite fitted.
One of the only open seats was near the edge, next to guess who? Ofcourse it’s Zanka Nijiku.
Sweet!
The boy thought, probably gonna take this class as a moment to bond with Zanka since he never paid attention to the lectures anyway.
Jabber slid into the seat with exaggerated care, letting his backpack fall lazily onto the floor. He shot Zanka a grin casual, charming, nothing over the top… at least, that’s what he told himself.
Zanka didn’t look up. He was already flipping through his notebook, pencil poised, entirely focused on the lecture slides the professor was projecting.
Jabber leaned back in his chair, elbow resting on the edge of the desk, tank top stretching slightly over his shoulder. “So… uh, Zanka, right?” he said casually, loud enough for just the two of them.
Zanka didn’t respond. Not a flicker. Not a twitch. Just a soft sigh and a slight adjustment of his sleeve.
“Cool,” Jabber muttered under his breath, undeterred. “Playing it quiet, huh? I can work with that.”
He let his gaze drift to the front of the classroom, pretending to take notes, though he wasn’t really listening. Half the time, his eyes flicked back to Zanka, watching the way he wrote neatly, efficiently, almost like he had a sixth sense for getting things done without trying.
The professor droned on about supply and demand curves, but Jabber wasn’t absorbing any of it. Instead, he started thinking of ways to “accidentally” start a conversation something casual, natural… non-threatening.
He’d gotten good at reading people like this. Zanka was careful, precise, always aware of his space, and yet… there was something about him that made him human, even if he wasn’t showing it.
Challenge accepted, Zanka.. You’re kinda cute trying to be mysterious but whateves’
Jabber leaned back again, feet slightly stretched out under the desk. Fuck, this really kind of is boring though, it get’s annoying eventually when the person you wanna talk to just won’t talk to you.
The lecture continued. Zanka didn’t look up once. Jabber grinned, already plotting how to make this quiet little economics class a little less quiet and a little more interesting.
He unzipped his bag while he was looking away Zanka glanced at him just for a moment..
ohmygodwhatisupwiththisguy?hishairissofuckingbeautifulandproperlytakencareof,he’ssoobnoxiousandwon’tstopbotheringmewhat’shisfuckingmotivehere?ANDWHYDOESHEHAVETOBESOFUCKINGSEX—
When Jabber sat upright again putting his computer on the table infront, he looked back at Zanka who was apparently too focused on a paper he was writing nothing on.. But okay.
Jabber tapped his pencil against the desk, humming softly to himself as if thinking aloud. He pretended to jot something down, though the notes were just scribbles and doodles. Every so often, his gaze flicked to Zanka, trying to catch any hint of recognition or reaction.
He logged into his computer and pulled up instagram on his computer to text Momoa again.
Jabber: Yo you good? Haven’t heard from you all day yesterday worried bout u icl
He sent the message to her a slight wave of relief washing over him. Little did he know Zanka was staring daggers into his laptop
Is this fucker seriously on instagram right now? Is he ever actually listening? A pout began to form on his face.
The teacher calling Jabber’s name snapped both of them into reality.
“Jabber!” The teacher said, clearly irritated. “if the price of coffee doubles, what happens to the quantity demanded, assuming all else stays the same?”
“It goes down, obviously.. people aren’t made of money.” Jabber said, as if the answer just came to him. She nodded approvingly “Very well done.”
This striked a fume in Zanka.
Zanka didn’t glance up though. Not once.
Jabber leaned forward, lowering his voice a little. “Hey… uh, that paper you’re writing notes or whatever, right?”
Zanka didn’t respond. He just shifted slightly, pencil hovering over the half blank page like it was about to betray some state secret.
Jabber grinned to himself noticing the small pout and blush on Zanka that he clearly forgot to hide. Cute & quiet? Challenge accepted. He tapped his pencil again, louder this time, letting it roll off the desk and onto the floor.
“Oops,” he muttered, reaching down dramatically, letting his hand brush just near Zanka’s notebook as he picked it up. “My bad! Didn’t mean to… uh, invade your space or anything.”
Zanka’s eyes flicked to him for a fraction of a second sharp, calculating, and entirely unreadable before returning to the page.
Jabber swallowed. Okay, slight reaction. Progress. He grinned wider, leaning back in his seat like it was all part of his plan.
Jabber let his gaze drift back to the front, pretending to jot more notes while actually scribbling little doodles in the corner of his notebook. Every so often, he peeked at Zanka, noting how precise and clean his writing was.
Come on, say something. Anything.
The lecture drone continued. Jabber tapped his pen lightly against the desk again, louder this time, like a casual, rhythmic reminder that he existed. Zanka’s eyes flicked up, sharp, but only for a split second before returning to his work. Jabber continuously shifted between his laptop and notes. ( though he really wasn’t noting anything. )
Jabber smirked. Okay, slight reaction. Still counts.
He leaned forward slightly, pretending to frown at his own paper. “Man… supply and demand curves, am I right? Absolute nightmares if you don’t keep track.”
Zanka’s pencil paused. He glanced at Jabber again, expression unreadable, then muttered, “Depends on your definition of nightmare.”
Jabber froze for a second, internally cheering. Progress! He actually spoke! Then he grinned, leaning back like it was all part of his casual charm. “Fair point. But I’ll stick to saying it’s torture until someone proves me otherwise.”
Zanka didn’t reply. Just tilted his head slightly, like Jabber’s words barely registered, but his pencil still hovered over the paper.
Jabber let out a quiet chuckle, sliding his notebook aside. “Alright… small victories, Z. Small victories.”
As the professor continued droning, Jabber’s mind was already racing, thinking of the next “accidental” moment, the next small opening, while Zanka remained… Zanka: calm, precise, infuriatingly quiet.
And somehow, that made him all the more intriguing.
The end of the lecture slowly Rolled around, at this point Zanka was resting on his hand quite literally half asleep.
Jabber began putting his laptop and whatever other shit he took out back into his backpack. He was probably planning on biking to the dojo after this.. Wouldn’t be bad to skip a class
When kids started getting up so did the other two.
Jabber slung his bag over one shoulder, glancing at Zanka. The boy’s head was resting on his hand, eyes half-lidded, hair falling slightly over his face. Perfect… a sleepy fortress, Jabber thought with a grin. Even harder to crack, but twice as cute.
He casually stepped closer, pretending to tie his shoe. “Hey… uh, Zanka, don’t fall asleep on me. You might miss the thrilling conclusion of supply and demand.”
Zanka’s eyes fluttered open just enough to glance at him, unimpressed. “Thrilling isn’t exactly the word I’d use.”
Jabber chuckled under his breath. “Fair enough. I’ll settle for mildly interesting, then.”
The rest of the students began filing out of the classroom. Jabber stood, stretching and slinging his bag more securely over his shoulder. Zanka pushed himself up slowly, gathering his things with meticulous care, eyes still fixed on his half-empty notebook.
As they walked out together, Jabber fell into step beside him, trying to sound casual. “So… uh, class wasn’t that bad, right?”
Zanka didn’t answer, just adjusted his bag strap and kept walking, expression unreadable.
Jabber grinned to himself. All i gotta do is get a chuckle outta this guy thas it.
He jogged lightly to keep pace with Zanka, letting his mind spin with ideas for the next “coincidental” interaction. Economics class might’ve been a bore, but the real fun? That was just starting.
He eventually lost zanka, boohoo.. But he grabbed his bike from a random pole he locked it too. To be fair his sweater wasn’t even on him anymore. Both his hands were out so it was just sort of hanging around his neck casually.
He biked with no hands to the Dojo, placing on occasionally for stoplights. He parked his bike inside the dojo before walking out to the cafe next to it.
He was quite lucky, he walked in at the same time as zanka begun ordering his drink—placing a quick hand on Zanka’s shoulder as he came up from behind him.
“Hey, make sure to put his order together with mine Ms. cashier~” Jabber said with a wink, causing to cashier to have a slight flush of red on her face.
“Are ya’ just stalking me?..” Jabber quickly ordered an iced coffee with a dash of milk for himself before going back to Zanka.
“It seems more like you’re stalking me. I mean youre showing up near MY dojo.. So.” jabber scoffed with no real bite.
“Wait yers’?..”
Zanka raised an eyebrow, voice calm but tinged with disbelief.
Jabber smirked, leaning casually against the counter, hands still loose on his sweater draped over his shoulders. “Well… not technically, but you know… I hang here sometimes. Gotta keep my cardio up between classes. Plus going there right now to get some extra practice in.” He shrugged nonchalantly, though his grin betrayed just how much fun he was having.
Zanka’s eyes narrowed slightly, scanning him like he was assessing a particularly annoying chess piece. “Right. Just… conveniently shows up the same time I show up to this cafe.”
Jabber chuckled softly. “Pure coincidence, my guy. Totally random. I promise pretty boy, didn’t realize how easy it was to get on your nerves.”
The cashier handed them their drinks, still a little flustered from Jabber’s earlier wink. Jabber grabbed both cups, handing one to Zanka with a playful flourish. “Voila! One iced coffee for me, and a caramel latte for you?.. Was not expecting you to be a fan of sweets..”
“Shut up jabber..” He said, nudging him with sn elbow to the ribs
Zanka Begun walking out, with Jabber trailing behind him. As the two walked out with the sound of bells, Jabber began walking the opposite direction.
“You can come to the dojo to watch me practice from whenever in the next hour and 30 minutes!” He shouted to Zanka.
‘Bullshit, why the hell would i go watch him punch the air?’
Famous last words, 30 minutes later Zanka found himself watching from the side lines as he watched Jabber and a random guy who looked around probably mid 20s practice with eachother. Jabber thankfully hadn’t noticed him yet though.
He wasn’t supposed to be there.
That was the first thing running through Zanka’s mind when he stood just inside the open doorway of the dojo, arms crossed, expression neutral or at least, trying to be.
Jabber was in the middle of sparring, hoodie gone, tank top clinging to him from sweat. Every punch landed with a sharp smack of leather on leather, each dodge fluid in a way that was infuriatingly confident. The guy moved like he knew he was being watched… which only made it worse.
Zanka told himself it was nothing.
He was just… waiting for Riyo, who said she’d meet him near the café later. ( she never did )
Or maybe he’d just taken a wrong turn. That’s all.
But then Jabber laughed that bright, effortless laugh that filled the echoing space and Zanka’s stomach did this weird flip he didn’t care to analyze.
The random guy he was sparring with (some tall dude with a tattoo running down his arm) threw a clean jab, which Jabber dodged by barely shifting his head. “Come on, man! You gotta commit!” Jabber teased, grinning wide.
From the corner, Zanka found himself muttering, “Cocky bastard…”
“Yo, break!” the sparring partner said, stepping back to grab a towel. Jabber straightened, rolling his shoulders out, sweat glinting at his collarbone. He turned to grab his water bottle and then he froze.
Their eyes met.
For a beat, neither moved. Jabber’s grin spread slow and mischievous.
“Well, well, well… didn’t think I’d actually manifest you,” he said, walking toward him with that same swagger that somehow filled the whole room.
Zanka scoffed, adjusting his sleeves as if to hide the fact his pulse had picked up. “I was just— walking by!” He stammered out with a pause to his words.
“Uh-huh.” Jabber tilted his head, clearly not buying it. “And your legs just happened to walk you into my dojo? Sounds like fate to me.”
“Sounds like bullshit to me,” Zanka shot back, but the edge in his voice was soft more defensive than hostile.
Jabber just laughed, grabbing his towel and tossing it around his neck. “C’mon, admit it!! you were curious Mr. Bad attitude. ”
Zanka looked away, pretending to study the floorboards. “Curious? About what? Also drop the weird nickname.” He said the last part with a huff which earned him a chuckle from Jabber.
“About me,” Jabber said simply, leaning in with a grin that was equal parts teasing and disarming.
Zanka’s expression didn’t crack, but his ears turned a little red—just enough for Jabber to catch.
“Keep dreamin’, jabber,” he muttered, turning toward the door.
“Already do, sweetheart.”
Zanka froze, just for a second, before continuing his walk out a little too quickly this time. Jabber chuckled under his breath, watching him go, towel still hanging loosely around his neck.
“Step three…” he murmured to himself, grin lazy and satisfied. “Progress.”
“CTHONI!! YOU SAW THAT RIGHT? Totally lovin’ me right!”
Cthoni yelled back in annoyance, “He seems like he wants you dead Jabber.”
Jabber pouted in annoyance. “Whateverrr~”
Jabber tossed his towel onto the nearest bench, still grinning to himself. The adrenaline from sparring was wearing off, but the little thrill from that encounter wasn’t going anywhere.
Cthoni was sitting on the counter now, sipping from her water bottle with the kind of unimpressed look only she could pull off.
“You’re outta your mind, y’know that?” she said, crossing her legs. “The poor guy looked like he wanted to stab you with everything he got.”
“Please,” Jabber scoffed, stretching his arms over his head. “That’s just his love language. Cold, deadly stares and all that.”
Bundas, overhearing from across the room, groaned. “Jabber, the only thing that boy’s feelin’ is secondhand embarrassment.”
“Secondhand’s still feelin’ somethin’,” Jabber shot back with a wink, earning a thrown towel in response.
Cthoni rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide her smirk. “You’re ridiculous. But I’ll admit, that was kinda fast. Didn’t think he’d show up here.”
“Didn’t think he wouldn’t,” Jabber said, sitting down on the mat and leaning back on his elbows.
“He looks like the type who pretends he doesn’t care but then spirals about it later.”
Cthoni snorted. “So you’re psychoanalyzing him now?”
“I’m studying my opponent,” Jabber corrected, flashing a grin. “Strategic.”
“Sure,” she said flatly. “Real strategic.. Just don’t fucking hook up with him or whatever.”
Jabber pointed finger guns at her. “No promises.”
Her and Noerde scoffed.
. . . .
Zanka, meanwhile, was pacing the dorm hallway like someone trying to convince himself of something.
Riyo had barely gotten through her “Hey, how’d your day—” before Zanka cut in, voice a little too sharp.
“I wasn’t following him.”
She blinked. “Who?”
“Jabber.”
Riyo raised a brow, taking the last bite of her muffin slowly. “…Didn’t say you were.”
Zanka froze mid-step, then muttered something under his breath that sounded vaguely like swearing.
Riyo grinned, the pieces clicking immediately. “Ohhh. You did follow him.”
“I did not!” He turned toward his desk, setting his bag down with too much force. “I was— walking. Near that café. And he— he happened to be there. Then I— I—”
“Walked into the dojo?” she finished for him, tone teasing.
Zanka glared. “Shut up.”
Riyo giggled. “You’re blushing.”
“I’m irritated!”
“Uh-huh.” Tamsy walked into the Riyo’s dorm room with 3 drinks in those little cup holder things, grin widening. “You know what that sounds like, Z?”
He glared again, but it was weaker this time. “Don’t.”
Riyo waved to Tamsy, being returned the wave with a smirk.
Tamsy ignored the warning completely, whispering sing-song, “It sounds like you liiike him.”
Zanka groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “I hate you.”
“You say that every time I’m right.” He stuck his tongue out. “Also these are for you two, iced mocha.. vanilla latte? For you Zanka, and Riyo just an iced latte. Thought you both would like these”
Zanka remembered how Jabber had bought him a drink earlier.. he was already quite full off of that, but what’s another iced mocha vanilla latte? Couldn’t hurt right?..
Zanka perked up snatching the drink from Tamsy with a pout,
“Psshh.. you’re so pathetic honestly just sitting there drouting..” Tamsy giggled.
“What is up with you guys and getting off on my suffering?..” he said with a huff, sipping his drink. Riyo took her drink with a ‘thank you’ to Tamsy.
She chuckled into her straw. “Because it’s funny,” she said simply, raising her cup.
“You should also probably start chasing after your man soon.”
That earned a pillow throw from Zanka.
Shit.. What was he gonna do?..