Work Text:
Rudo wanted one thing.
Just one.
A bed.
Preferably his bed.
Preferably now.
His boots dragged against the concrete floor of the Cleaners’ base as he pushed through the entrance, shoulders slumped, jacket torn in three places, hands aching from gripping his weapon too tightly for too long. The mission had gone on far longer than expected, trash beasts nesting deeper than their scans suggested, terrain collapsing underfoot, constant movement without rest.
Every muscle in his body screamed.
His head throbbed.
All he wanted to do was face-plant onto his mattress and not move for at least twelve hours.
He didn’t even bother greeting anyone as he walked in.
Until he stopped.
Because the common room lights were dimmed.
And on the couch—
Zanka Nijiku was asleep.
Rudo froze.
Zanka was sprawled out in a way that could only be described as completely unguarded. One arm hung over the edge of the couch, fingers loosely curled. His ash brown hair was messy, strands falling over his closed eyes. His jacket had been discarded somewhere nearby, leaving him in a thin shirt that rose slightly with each slow breath.
And right there.
On his chest.
Dear Santa.
The ten-year-old Cleaner pup was curled up like he owned the place, cheek pressed against Zanka’s collarbone, small arms tucked in comfortably. One leg was slung over Zanka’s stomach. Still sucking on his pacifier.
Rudo stared.
His brain, exhausted as it was, still managed to process one very important detail.
That’s my spot.
He took a careful step closer.
Zanka let out a soft sound in his sleep.
A purr.
It was low, quiet, almost imperceptible, but Rudo heard it.
His jaw tightened.
Dear Santa shifted.
Then his eyes cracked open.
And immediately locked onto Rudo.
The kid didn’t even look surprised.
Instead, his mouth curled into the smuggest grin Rudo had ever seen on a human being.
Dear Santa slowly, deliberately, snuggled closer to Zanka, burrowing his face into the omega’s chest.
Zanka’s purr deepened.
Rudo felt something snap.
Silently.
Violently.
“…You little—” Rudo mouthed.
Dear Santa didn’t say a word.
He didn’t need to.
The look on his face said everything.
He’s mine right now.
Rudo dropped his bag to the floor with extreme care, every movement controlled, quiet, calculated. He approached the couch like a hunter stalking prey.
Dear Santa watched him the entire time.
Rudo crouched beside the couch.
Their eyes locked.
War was declared.
Rudo reached out.
Dear Santa immediately tightened his grip on Zanka’s shirt.
Zanka shifted, brows furrowing slightly, purr vibrating through his chest.
Rudo froze.
Dear Santa smirked wider.
Rudo glared.
He changed tactics.
Slowly, Rudo lifted Zanka’s discarded jacket from the floor and tried to drape it over himself, positioning it so he could lean against the couch.
Dear Santa reached out and pulled the edge of the jacket back onto Zanka.
Zanka hummed happily in his sleep.
Rudo’s eye twitched.
“You’re doing this on purpose” Rudo whispered.
Dear Santa mouthed back, Yep.
Rudo clenched his fists.
Fine.
If subtlety wouldn’t work—
He gently nudged Dear Santa’s foot.
The kid immediately wrapped both legs around Zanka.
Zanka let out a soft, pleased noise and shifted his arm, pulling Dear Santa closer.
Rudo stared in disbelief.
“…That’s cheating”
Dear Santa placed a finger over his lips in a mock shushing gesture.
Rudo inhaled sharply through his nose.
He was tired.
He was sore.
He was not losing this.
Rudo carefully climbed onto the couch edge, perching on the armrest. He leaned forward and gently, very gently, tugged at Zanka’s sleeve.
Zanka stirred.
“Mmm… Rudo…?” he murmured.
Rudo’s heart leapt.
Dear Santa stiffened.
“Yes” Rudo whispered urgently “Zanka. It’s me”
Zanka shifted again, eyes fluttering, but didn’t wake.
Dear Santa, panicking, buried his face into Zanka’s chest again.
Zanka’s purr rumbled.
Rudo’s expression darkened.
“Oh no you don’t”
He leaned closer and rested his head carefully against Zanka’s shoulder.
Instantly, Zanka’s arm twitched, and then settled around Rudo’s shoulders, pulling him in.
Dear Santa’s eyes widened.
Rudo grinned triumphantly.
Dear Santa glared.
The kid pinched Rudo’s sleeve.
Rudo pinched back.
Silently.
Furiously.
Zanka sighed contentedly in his sleep, completely unaware he was being used as contested territory.
The war escalated.
Dear Santa adjusted himself so his head rested higher on Zanka’s chest.
Rudo countered by sliding his hand into Zanka’s loose grip, fingers intertwining.
Dear Santa responded by hooking his leg over Zanka’s waist.
Rudo leaned his full exhausted weight against Zanka’s side.
Zanka murmured something unintelligible and tightened his hold on both of them.
Both boys froze.
Zanka shifted, eyes still closed, tailbone curling slightly as his omega instincts kicked in.
“…You’re both too loud” he mumbled.
“Settle down…”
Both boys immediately stilled.
Dear Santa slowly looked at Rudo.
Rudo stared back.
Truce.
For now.
Minutes passed.
Rudo’s anger dulled, replaced by bone-deep exhaustion. The warmth of Zanka’s body seeped into him, grounding, familiar. His breathing slowed.
Dear Santa’s smugness faded into drowsiness.
Zanka’s purr softened into a steady rhythm.
Rudo closed his eyes.
Just for a second.
Zanka woke later to weight.
Too much weight.
He blinked blearily and looked down.
Rudo was half draped over him, face pressed against his shoulder, breathing evenly.
Dear Santa was curled against his chest, drooling slightly.
Zanka stared.
“…What happened”
Neither boy answered.
Zanka sighed fondly.
He shifted carefully, pulling the blanket from the back of the couch over all three of them. His omega instincts thrummed—mine, safe, warm.
He wrapped an arm around Rudo and another around Dear Santa.
“Hey” he whispered softly.
“No fighting”
Both boys murmured in their sleep.
Zanka smiled.
“…Pups”
He closed his eyes again.
The common room stayed quiet.
And finally—
Everyone rested.