Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

Room and Board	By : sillyneko345 Category: +G through L > Jak & Daxter Views: 25355 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: I do not own the game this story is based on (Jak & Daxter) nor do I make any money from writing it.

Chapter List
- 1-Ch. 1
- 2-Ch. 2
- 3-Ch. 3
- 4-Ch. 4
- 5-Ch. 5
- 6-Ch. 6
- 7-Ch. 7
- 8-Ch. 8
- 9-Ch. 9
- 10-Ch. 10
- 11-Ch. 11
- 12-Ch. 12
- 13-Ch. 13
- 14-Ch. 14
- 15-Ch. 15
- 16-Ch. 16
- 17-Ch. 17
- 18-Ch. 18
- 19-Ch. 19
- 20-Ch. 20
- 21-Ch. 21
- 22-Ch. 22
- 23-Ch. 23
- 24-Ch. 24
- 25-Ch. 25
- 26-Ch. 26
- 27-Ch. 27
- 28-Ch. 28
- 29-Ch. 29
- 30-Ch. 30
- 31-Ch. 31
- 32-Ch. 32
- 33-Ch. 33
- 34-Ch. 34
- 35-Ch. 35
- 36-ch. 36
- 37-ch. 37
- 1
- 2
- 3
AN: Okay, okay, you guys! I get it! I need to continue the fic. Your requests have been heard. Thanks for not letting me slack off.
Characters: Belong to Naughty Dog, Inc. Except for Killer the ferret. He was mine, then I gave him to Jak.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
There were definite perks to being in college, Daxter reflected.
First and foremost, there were gorgeous babes everywhere his head turned. The food was amazing, now that his financial aid had come through and he could actually afford to eat it. And compared to just a few short months ago, his freedom and free time had seemed to increase exponentially. If the first week of class had been any indication, the work load that semester wouldn’t be too difficult—and when he returned to his small corner of the collegiate universe after class there was no one but him to tell him what to do. Quite suddenly life had become pretty decent.
Of course, there were also some aspects of college life that were quite the opposite of perks.
“Sheesh, what’s a guy gotta do around here ta get a little AC goin’ on?” Daxter whined. He slouched at his desk, a random notebook in hand to fan himself as he griped. Unfortunately, it was doing nothing but circulating the hot air in the room. The window was wide open to let in the cool night air outside—except that the air without was just as bad as the air within. “Does one of us hafta develop asthma or killer mutant allergies before we get a little heat relief around here?”
Jak chuckled from his spot on the rug. “Pretty much.” He was playing with the ferret again, running his hand under the edge of the rug and encouraging the critter to chase it. “I asked Torn about it. He said that if everyone in the building ran an air conditioner at the same time the flux of electricity would blow out the power grid. So, yeah. Only if you’ve got breathing problems and need filtered air.”
“Jak, quick. I demand that you become allergic to that weasel immediately.”
His roommate snorted good-naturedly. “Yeah, sure. And when they ask what I’m suddenly allergic to, I’ll tell them an imaginary ferret moved in.”
Fanning himself idly, Daxter watched as the ferret bounced by with its back in a hump, chattering at the top of its lungs. “Yer really gonna keep that thing, aren’t ya?”
“Well… yeah.” Jak had the decency to look sheepish. “I mean, I was going to find a shelter or something to take him, really. But look at him! Isn’t he great?” He grabbed the undulating tube of fur as it streaked past and held it up for Dax to see. “He’s friendly, playful, and he loves attention.”
“He better stay out’a my bed or I’ll launch his ass down the stairs like a furry slinky.”
“That was one time. Just once. He went through all that trouble to climb your desk and get up on the top bunk so he could say good morning to you.”
“He can go say good morning to our charmin’ RA next time. Get carted out faster than the trash after dinner.”
Jak smiled indulgently, petting the ferret as it hung contentedly in his grip. “You’d miss Killer if they took him away.”
Dax huffed. “Not as much as I miss cool air.”
The green-blonde looked up from the floor, a ferret paw in each of his hands as it playfully nipped at his knuckles. The breeze from a small fan on his desk swirled his hair, brushing against his bare shoulders. “If you’re so hot just take your shirt off, Dax. I’m not that warm.”
Daxter started abruptly, dropping the notebook flat on his own desk with a loud fwap. Uh, how about not. “Actually, y’know what? I guess I’m really not that hot after all.”
“You sure? You look miserable.” Jak gave the ferret a flick to the behind as it grabbed a corner of the rug in its teeth and pulled. “Why don’t you go take a cool shower or something?”
Aaaand that was an even worse idea. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and crammed the notebook back onto the shelves over his desk. “Yeah, I’ll get one later.”
“You like to shower really late, don’t you?” Jak asked casually.
Daxter swallowed, trying his best to play it cool. “How ya figure?”
“Well, it’s almost midnight and you’re still putting it off. Can’t get much later or you’ll be showering really early. Plus we’ve been living together for two weeks now and I’ve never seen you go, but the towels keep disappearing and reappearing in the laundry basket.”
“Crazy thing about sharin’ a set of towels, huh?” Daxter chuckled weakly, ears trying to flag. Of course he had to be shacked up with the only intelligent football player on campus—he’d have called such a thing an oxymoron before meeting Jak. “I just… I, uh, really like bein’ the only one in the showers so I don’t hafta fight anybody fer the radio. Last thing I wanna be forced ta listen to while I rinse an’ repeat is some crappy political talk show, y’know?”
Jak nodded amiably. “Yeah. I never thought about a radio in the bathroom before, but I kind of like it. Makes me not feel stupid when I sing in the shower.” He reached out and caught the ferret in one big hand. “Alright, you. Back in your cage before you overheat. Jak’s gotta get to bed.”
Daxter let out a quiet sigh of relief as the topic of showers was dropped. He watched his roommate crawl across the floor to the large cage taking up most of the space below their window, a three-level concoction of wire and ferret paraphernalia that had cost Jak more than Daxter would usually be able to spend in a month. Of course, that meant that said ferret was now much harder to hide, so the cage had to be covered with a spare sheet and passed off as a storage bin whenever a third party came into the room. Torn would have their heads on a platter and Killer back in the dumpster if anyone squealed.
“Wanna say goodnight?” Jak asked, holding the ferret up once more.
Dax smirked. “Goodnight, weasel-face.”
“Close enough.” Jak tucked his little buddy in and locked the cage. Less one uninvited ferret in someone’s bunk the next morning. Then he stretched hard, arms over his head, and yawned. Prominent muscles flexed and rippled in a way still made the redhead a bit nervous. “Yeah, I am definitely ready for bed.”
“So soon? On a Friday night? What kind’a football star are ya?”

“One who’s very tired.” Jak was grinning as he crawled into his bunk. “Goodnight, Dax. Don’t stay up too late.”
“Yeah, yeah. Night.” A flash of consideration prompted Daxter to turn down the setting on his table lamp, leaving the room in a dim, hot twilight. He reached into a cubby hole at the back of his desk and fished out a shiny new music player, one of the few little treats he had splurged on after buying the bare necessities of books and supplies with the financial aid money. Head bobbing and bare foot tapping lightly under the desk, he flipped open a notebook and began to doodle mutant ferrets while he waited for the perfect time to make a move.
- - - - -
An hour later, Jak was unquestionably down for the count. Daxter peered into the shadowy cave under the top bunk, making sure for the third time that his roommate was out. The green-blonde was sprawled face down on his pillow, ears and arms lax. The comforter had been kicked to the end of the bunk to ward off the ungodly heat, while the sheet tangled around his waist. His breathing was deep and even.
Assured that all was quiet, Daxter pulled off his headphones and crept away from the desk. Like a shadow he opened the door of his wardrobe and pulled down a bath robe. Another peek at Jak. No movement. In quick succession the redhead’s worn t-shirt hit the floor, followed by shorts and boxers. Before the latter had even settled on the rug Dax was pulling the comfort of the fluffy blue robe around himself, satisfied with the completion of his stealth mission. It was nervy changing in the same space as his roommate, but better strip in front of a sleeping Jak than chance someone else being in the showers if he tried to disrobe there.
It was a short trip down the hall to the bathrooms that all the residents of 3-West shared. The way lay empty and silent, as Daxter had hoped. Two weeks in the dorm and he had managed to avoid getting in or out of the shower in front of anyone, a trend that he hoped to continue. It was bad enough being seen in all his pale, skinny lack of glory, certain imperfections on display for the world to see… but even that couldn’t compare to the disgusting vulnerability of being clothes-less in front of others. Ears laid back sourly, the redhead tightened his hand on the handle of the plastic basket that held his soap and shampoo. At least he didn’t have class exceptionally early, so the sleep-or-shower quandary didn’t have to come into play yet.
Pushing open the bathroom door, Daxter peeked in. No one was standing at the sinks, and the radio that sat on the countertop was quiet. So far, so good. A few steps into the tiled room and he began to relax. Home free, as usual. But then, as he passed by the stalls and urinals into the secondary room where the rows of showers began, the sound of rushing water met his ears. He rounded the corner and stopped short, immediately aware of the muggy steam filling the room. One shower was running, curtain pulled over the occupant, and another figure seemed to have just finished, stepping into a pair of shorts with a towel across their shoulders.
“Shit!” The hissed curse was out before he could contain it, and Daxter started to backpedal. Too late.
The figure, topped with a shock of dark orange hair, turned around. “Well, well. I believe I know you, now, don’t I?”
Daxter froze, willing his ears not to give away his sudden panic. Of all the guys he could have stumbled in on, it was Erol. He didn’t even live on that floor! What was he doing in their hall’s showers at one in the morning? He swallowed, held onto his basket handle tighter, and forced his voice not to betray his nervousness. “Uh, hey there. Long time no see, pal.”
“Indeed.” With a snort of amusement that still managed to sound unfriendly, the taller redhead turned back to the bench stacked with his clothing and shower items.
Daxter blinked. That was it? Maybe Erol had gotten over their incident on the patio, angry as he had seemed at the time. Hesitantly Daxter walked over to the bench opposite Erol’s and put down his basket and towel. It was already late enough. He needed to wash. If the bigger guy wasn’t going to be antagonistic that night, maybe it would be alright to stay. It would be uncomfortable, but he could always get behind the curtain before shucking his robe.
“So, uh, what brings ya ta our floor?”
“The showers have been shut off upstairs. Massive plumbing crisis. It’s almost enough to shoot someone in the face over.”
“Wow. Eh-heh, yeah, I guess that would be annoying.” Daxter gulped surreptitiously and pulled out his shampoo and conditioner. So small talk was out.
He would just hurry, get this over with as fast as possible. He quickly chose the shower stall at the end of the row and stuck the bottles in the rack under the showerhead. There was a hook on the wall just outside the curtain. He could keep covered the whole time if he just got behind the curtain before he uncovered and reached out to hang the robe up from there. Erol would likely be long gone by the time he finished and needed to retrieve it, anyway. Simple.
Only, of course it couldn’t be. Daxter refolded his towel, laid it back on the bench. Picked up his soap and washcloth. Started for the shower. A deep chuckle stopped him in his tracks, and he looked over his shoulder at Erol nervously. “Huh?”
“Don’t tell me. You’re really going to get undressed in there. Let me guess—shy? How adorable.”
At the condescending croon, the smaller redhead’s hand flew up to grip the collar of his robe without thinking. His ears went back and down, and he skittered away from Erol warily. It was the wrong way to skitter, though; the bigger guy now stood between Daxter and the door.
“You know,” Erol all but purred, “I had decided that it was simply too much trouble to hassle you tonight. But you’re just so cute, I don’t think I can resist.”
Daxter’s heart skipped a beat and his eyes widened in sheer panic. He pressed himself to the wall, staring up helplessly as the other stalked slowly, smugly forward.
- // - // - // - // -
Jak let out a muffled groan of agony into his pillow as he crawled, most unwillingly, back to consciousness. “Why… the hell… is it so hot?”
He struggled upright, held back by the sheet tangled around his hips and thighs. Even the light fabric felt unbearably hot and itchy. He kicked it off angrily and sat up, blinking at the empty room. God, he felt disgusting. Sweaty and sticky and annoyed. The digital clock on his desk announced that it was a quarter past one. Jak swung his legs out of the bunk and stood up. Daxter’s lamp was still on.
“Hey, Dax? You awake?” he asked softly, chancing a peek up onto the top bunk. Empty. “Guess so…” He was blearily musing on where his roommate could have gone at this time of night when the answer hit him like a moth in a bug zapper.
The showers. Of course. Daxter said he liked to shower late, that he planned to go sometime that night. Where else would he be? And now that Jak thought about it, a cool shower sounded like heaven. He was already awake and less than likely to be able to get back to sleep with the room temperature hovering at tropic rainforest levels. He might as well go wash the sweat off. Mind made up, Jak lost no time in kicking his boxers to the curb. Towel tied securely around his waist, he grabbed a washcloth, a bottle of body wash, and his keys. He just hoped Daxter had tuned the bathroom radio to something decent.
The door hadn’t had the time to swing shut behind the green-blonde when his brightening mood went abruptly south. Instead of the radio broadcasting a local station’s late night classic rock block, the first sound to meet his ears over the hum of falling water was a squeal of distress.
“Get the hell off’a me!”
Two weeks of hearing that voice day in and day out left no doubt in Jak’s mind. He skidded around the corner into the showers and stopped dead. Daxter was pinned to the wall by an elbow against his chest and a fist in his hair, struggling like a dog about to be drowned as Erol tried to pull his robe off him. The much bigger redhead was laughing.
“Hey!” Jak barked. “Let go of him!” He could see Daxter staring at him mutely around the pinning arm, ears back and eyes huge as he continued to struggle. The robe had been pulled from one thin shoulder. The terrified look on his friend’s face was more than enough to send Jak from zero to pissed instantly.
Erol’s head snapped around to identify who had happened upon them, but he relaxed almost immediately. “Tch. You again? Is this coincidence, or do the two of you just follow one another everywhere?”
“I said let go of him.” Jak’s voice and eyes were steely. Fights were nothing new to the football player and, though he avoided them when he could, a massive line had been crossed the moment this asshole had touched his roommate.
The tattooed man seemed less than impressed. “Your little friend and I are a bit busy at the moment. Don’t worry, you can have him when I’m done.”
Jak’s keys clashed loudly on the tile when he dropped them. The bottle of body wash bounced and clattered away as he stalked forward, ears back to their extreme. So talking wasn’t going to back this guy off this time. Fine with Jak. Coming up right behind the two he grabbed a fistful of the larger redhead’s damp t-shirt and yanked.
Erol turned with an aggravated hiss. “Who do you think yo—”
The instant he spun, Jak slugged. His fist hit the side of a hard, square jaw with a satisfying thud, cracking the man’s head firmly to the side. “When I tell you to get your hands off my roommate, I mean it!”
Erol came up with a snarl and a fist of his own, but Jak was more than ready. He blocked the blow easily, twisting his opponent’s arm as he did so. His focus was tunneling, locking on like it did on the gridiron when someone had his ball and he determined to separate them from it. Erol turned a stumble into a lunge, pushing Jak backward, and the two staggered to the middle of the ring of benches and showers. It had every likelihood of turning into a knock-down-drag-out right there in the bathroom floor, right up until the point the lone occupied shower abruptly cut off and the curtain was ripped back.
“Will you morons kindly shut the hell up?!”
Both combatants froze as they suddenly recalled, apparently at the same time, that the world was bigger than the two of them causing each other as much pain and inconvenience as possible. Jak let his eyes slide off the red, tattooed face before him to dart at the new voice.
“Is it really so much to ask to get a bit of peace and quiet around here? Honestly!” The man grabbed a towel down off the curtain rod and began to dry himself, cursing under his breath in a language Jak couldn’t make out. “All I ask is a relaxing shower before I sleep, and fight club decides to meet in my showers. Beautiful.”
“Mind your own business,” Erol growled. He was glowering at Jak, obviously more than willing to continue despite an audience. A rather poor judgment call, Jak thought; he was a stranger picking a fight on someone else’s floor at a time of night when all visitors were required to be chaperoned.
“Fuck off, you inconsiderate prick! This has been an absolutely disgusting night!” the jet-haired man ranted, flinging down his wet towel on the bench and grabbing for his shorts. “As if it was not enough that I spend three hours lying in a puddle of oil under my car in the damned parking garage, only to discover that I need a replacement part that I do not have—oh, no. Then I have to walk back here in the dark with oil in my hair, and am forced to shower in the damned middle of the damned night when it should be most peaceful, and you clowns can’t be quiet enough for me to hear my own thoughts!”
“Sorry, Razer,” Jak gritted. “Not my idea, but sometimes you just need to smack a bitch, you know?”
Erol’s teeth bared as he stared Jak down. There was barely space between them for the redhead to jab a threatening finger at Jak’s chest. “I’m not sure quite where you get your attitude, boy, but it’s going to get you in a lot of trouble someday.”
Though the other was easily several inches taller than him, Jak didn’t flinch or move so much as a centimeter. “I could most definitely say the same about you. I don’t know what you’ve got against Daxter, but I’ll be more than happy to jack you up if you come near him again.”
For just a moment, it looked like Erol was going to take another swing. He restrained himself. With a deep breath and an obvious smoothing of ragged nerves, he stepped back. The look of condescending calm once more slid into place on his face. The sudden change was almost eerie. “Duly noted. Jak.” He spit the name like poison. With one last glare at the green-blonde he turned away. A similar glare landed on Daxter, who hadn’t twitched from his spot against the wall, as Erol grabbed his towel and duffel bag from the bench and stalked out.
Only when the door swung closed behind him did Jak relax the rigid posture of his back and shoulders. “God damn. What is that guy’s problem?”
“Whatever it is, I bet it’s hard to pronounce,” Razer deadpanned, running a comb through his damp hair. It shone like spilled ink under the fluorescents. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my so-called bed awaits.”
Jak nodded. “Right. Sorry again about all that.”
“I was here for the whole episode, you know. I know very well who started shenanigans. If by chance Torn happens to inquire in the morning, I suppose I would be willing to lend an unbiased account.” Throwing his towel over his shoulder, Razer turned to the door. “Any messages for Phoenix if the boy isn’t face down in his own drool when I return?”
“Tell him I’ll see him at practice tomorrow, if you want. Thanks, Razer.” Jak watched him go for a long moment, and then turned to the small redheaded flower on the back wall. “Well, damn. I’m glad that’s over.”
Daxter didn’t move or speak. He simply stood and stared, robe loose and open around his chest and shoulders, looking as though it was on an imminent date with falling off. His chest was heaving.
Jak frowned and stepped forward. “Dax? Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m fine. I’m totally fine.” Daxter’s voice was high and thin, a shade away from truly panicked. He pressed flat to the tiled wall as Jak stepped cautiously closer, ears flat to the sides and eyes riveted on the green-blonde.
Jak eased nearer, concern building as his friend made no move to move. When he came within reach he very gingerly stretched out a hand and pulled the fall of fabric back onto a shaking shoulder. “Are you sure? You don’t look so hot…”
“Of course I’m fine!” The redhead suddenly began to giggle, a slightly manic sound that startled Jak even as it morphed into a full-on laugh. “Why wouldn’t I be fine? Might as well be yer bitch instead’a his! Hell, we live in the same room. Makes it a lot more convenient, right? Easier access!” He was laughing hysterically, slumping against the wall.
Jak’s mouth fell open in utter shock. What in the hell was he talking about? “Daxter? Hey! Come on, you’re freaking me out, here. Chill out and sit down. Breathe.” Though the great majority of his brain was telling him it was a bad idea, he couldn’t help but gently grasp the trembling redhead’s upper arms and pull him away from the wall.
Daxter let out a whine when Jak touched him and stumbled a bit as he was directed back to the bench where his towel still lay, but ultimately allowed himself to be seated upon it. He put his face in his hands and did as instructed, breathing deeply.
Jak stood as close as he dared, one hand awkwardly resting on his roommate’s shoulder in a way that he hoped was reassuring. “Just calm down. Don’t worry. If he’s not a complete idiot, Erol won’t mess with you again.” He tried hard to keep his voice neutral and reasoning, though the redhead’s words a minute before had been like a glass of cold water to the face.
They stayed that way for long minutes as Daxter pulled himself back together. Jak stood at his side, hand still resting on that shoulder as the shaking finally began to subside. Idly his thumb began to trace back and forth over a patch of bare skin, a repetitive, calming motion. It was completely unconscious until the pad of his thumb brushed a raised line, and Jak glanced down curiously. The entirety of the back side of Daxter’s shoulder, as well as the back of his neck, was covered in small scars. Jak’s eyes widened silently as his thumb froze.
Daxter hadn’t seemed to notice the small touch until it ceased. He glanced up sharply, leaving the two staring one another in the face. Abruptly he surged to his feet, hands jerking up to pull the collar of the robe tight around his neck. “Sorry, Jak. Sorry. Thanks fer the help.”
“Are you okay now?” Jak asked slowly as some distance was put between them. “I mean… for real okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m better. I’m real sorry. I didn’t… I totally shouldn’t have said that, Jak.” The redhead took a final deep breath and looked back over his shoulder. “I mean, yeah, I was freaked out pretty bad, but he was the one pickin’ at me, not you. You totally saved my ass. Sorry.”
Jak hesitated a moment, but finally spoke. “How could you even think something like that, Dax? We’re friends. I wouldn’t hurt you. Ever.”
“I know. I know.” Daxter’s hands were locked around his upper arms. His ears broadcasted the slant of the utterly miserable. “It’s just… shit. I got jumped in the locker room in high school, okay? Five guys. They… all of ‘em were on the football team.”
There was really nothing Jak could say to that. It sure made the way his roommate acted around him sometimes make a little more sense. He swallowed tightly. “Is that where, uh. All those scars?”
“Huh? Oh, nah. For once they didn’t wanna beat me up.” Daxter laughed humorlessly. “Just when ya think gettin’ used as a crucial component in locker pinball sucks, they get new ideas on what you’d be good for. If the coach hadn’t walked in when he did I would’a been coughin’ up jizz fer a week.”
“Fuck,” Jak breathed, dragging a hand down his face in disbelief. It just got better and better. “Were they expelled, at least?”

“Ha. You kiddin’? That’s a quarter of the football team. Coach passed it off as indecent exposure an’ let ‘em go with a week of detention. Me, too. Like I was in on it or somethin’. Guess it shouldn’t have been a big surprise, though. I couldn’t do much right in that place.”
Now Jak was the one taking deep, calming breaths. He didn’t know whether throwing up or punching a hole in a wall would make him feel best. All he knew was a sudden fierce desire to hug Daxter tight—and that was a really bad idea. Instead he forced himself to walk across the room and gather up everything he had dropped when he came in. His keys jangled as he wound the lanyard around his wrist. The lid of his body wash bottle was cracked. The green-blonde sighed. “I am getting in the shower now, before anything else decides to happen. Yell if you need anything, alright?”
Daxter gave a slight nod, watching out of the corner of his eye as Jak hung keys and towel over the curtain rod of the shower he had chosen. Jak stepped into it and pulled the curtain to, hissing a second later as the water momentarily ran cold. When it had adjusted to his liking he stuck his face under the spray. Too bad it wasn’t possible to will everything that had happened in the past twenty minutes to wash off like the sweat still clinging to his skin.
To his surprise, the sound of a second shower running soon cut through Jak’s thoughts. He had thought for sure Dax would beat a retreat back to their room. Still, this was the much better alternative. He didn’t want the redhead to be terrified of ever going to the showers again. Though, it wouldn’t be too difficult to stage things so that he and Daxter showered at the same time, just in case anything more were to threaten Dax—if the redhead even wanted him there at all, protection or no. Jak heaved another deep sigh as the broken cap snapped clean off and circled the drain. Just when he had thought things were going to go well between them…
There was silence for a long while. Jak finished his wash-down, stood a minute in the cool water, and shut off the tap. Keys down. Keys around his wrist. Towel down. Towel around his waist. He stepped out from behind the curtain almost the same instant that Daxter’s head hove into view from behind the curtain next to him.
The redhead blinked owlishly from under a mat of dripping hair, one hand coming up to swipe the water from his eyes. He stretched out an arm to grasp at the robe hanging from a hook on the wall, but seemed supremely unwilling to bare any more of himself than the arm and part of one pale shoulder. His fingertips brushed the fabric once, twice, futilely. Jak had to smile. He stepped over and lifted the robe down, bringing it within Daxter’s reach.
“Uh, thanks.” Daxter accepted it rather sheepishly. A blush dusted his wet cheeks as he ducked back behind the safety of the curtain.
Jak chuckled quietly. He sat on the bench beside Daxter’s towel and toiletry basket, already feeling the nagging tingle of being uncomfortably warm returning. A moment later Daxter stepped out to join him. He was covered from neck to past the knee in overlarge robe, looking smaller than ever. Jak kept his eyes elsewhere, staring at the patterns in the tile as Dax collected his towel and began to fluff his hair drier.
“Hey, Dax.”

The redhead jumped slightly and looked up from his towel, hair poofing every which way. “Huh?”
“Listen. If you want to, you can…” His ears drifted lower. Damn it. This shouldn’t be so hard. They had only known each other for two weeks. It was just a simple thing. Jak tried again. “You can ask Torn if they’ll switch your room assignment out, if you want.”
Daxter stared.
“I mean, we’re a couple weeks into the semester now. I’m sure somebody on our floor has figured out that they can’t stand their roommate. If you ask, I bet they’d let you trade with someone else. If it’s been upsetting you so much to room with me, then—”
“Are you stupid or somethin’?”
Jak blinked. Uh, okay. Hadn’t been expecting that response to his suggestion.
“No, I don’t wanna move out!” Against all odds, Daxter looked truly upset. His hands clenched to fists, balling up the towel he still held. “Damn it, ya big lug—just ‘cause I got upset one time an’ freaked out a little doesn’t mean I don’t wanna be around ya! Jeez, yer the only guy I know who’s been able ta put up with my smart mouth fer as long as ya have, an’ not even act like I’m annoying. You’ve backed me more in two weeks than anybody else has my whole life!” He paused for air, and a distinct quiver graced his lower lip. “So, no ta yer dumb idea, thanks all the same.”
Slowly, the green-blonde smiled. “Okay. That’s fine.”
“Humph. Better be fine.” With a mutinous pout, Daxter went back to his hair.
“Second question, then. Do you want to report Erol for that stunt he pulled?”
A squeamish look crossed the redhead’s face. He shook his head negatively. “Uh, I don’t think we gotta do that.”
“Are you sure? Because you’re completely justified in turning his ass in for what he did to you. I don’t care if he was just going to steal your clothes and strand you in here naked, or—uh, you know, whatever—but assault is assault. Razer even said he’d back us.”
“Don’t worry about it, Jak. You said yerself he’d be dumb if he tried anything else. I’ll just blaze a trail the other way if I run into the guy again, I guess.”

“You’ll come running to me, is what you’ll do,” Jak growled. “I’d personally like to finish the ass-kicking I started. He’s got it coming. Now that I think about it, if anybody gives you trouble you don’t deserve, you just let me know.”
Daxter glanced at him in surprise, but let it go. “Yeah. Yeah, sure. Whatever ya say.” He fiddled with his hair for a moment more, dropping the towel and digging a comb from his basket. It was pulled through damp red strands, made darker by lingering water. “Uh, hey. Jak?”
“Yeah?”

“A few minutes ago you asked about, um. ‘Bout my shoulders n’ stuff.”
“Yeah.” He had been determined not to ask about the scars. Prying was a bad, bad thing, especially after what Dax had just gone through.
“I wasn’t gonna tell ya about it. Didn’t want ya ta find out about any of this crap, but… I guess I prob’ly should, since we’re permanent roommates now an’ all. You would’a figured it out sooner or later anyway.” He spun the comb around his fingers, a nervous worry toy, before finally speaking. “Happened when I was pretty little. Don’t wanna talk about the details. Let’s just say I don’t like belts too much no more.”
The urge to punch walls roared back out of nowhere, but Jak stayed still and quiet. Just listening.
“Yeah. So, I got taken away an’ stuck in a group home. Been a foster kid ever since. Well… was a foster kid, I guess. Now that I’m eighteen an’ out’a high school I’m pretty much on my own. I got offered a free shot at college out’a pity an’ took it ‘cause I didn’t know what else ta do. Now here I am. The end. Fantabulous story, right?”
That explained so much. Why Dax had been alone from the moment Jak first laid eyes on him, stepping into dorm life with barely more than the clothes on his back. Why he never spoke about parents or guardians. Why he couldn’t even afford to eat until state supported tuition had kicked in financial aid.
“But, hey, don’t you go feelin’ sorry fer me!” the redhead demanded, aiming a pointer finger between Jak’s eyes. It was like Jak didn’t even have to voice his thoughts for Daxter to know them. “I’m tough, ya dig? I been lookin’ out fer myself fer years an’ I’ve done a pretty good job, if I do say so. I can take it.”
“Of course you can.” Jak had to smile at the display. In spite of everything he had apparently been through, his roommate was just… cute. Funny. Clever. And damned cute. “But everybody needs a friend once in a while.”
“Huh. Yeah, maybe. I guess.” Making a great show of being unconcerned, Daxter dropped his comb back in the basket and folded his wet towel. “Well, fun as this night has been, I gotta say I wouldn’t repeat it, Jakkie-boy. Crap has a way of comin’ down in a landslide just when ya think yer in the clear.”

“Tell me about it.” Jak agreed with one thing: it had been one crazy night. One he was ready to put behind him. “… hey, Dax? You want to go get some tacos?”
The redhead glanced up, one copper-colored brow precariously close to being lost in his hairline. “Yer kiddin’ me, right?”

“I’m dead serious. It’s too hot to sleep, I’m hungry, and the Taco Shack is open all night. Come on, let’s go. It’s not a long walk.” Jak bounced up off the bench, given energy by his own plan.
“Yer nuts. It’s almost two in the morning!”
“They have air conditioning,” Jak wheedled. “It’ll be my treat.”
That seemed to change Daxter’s tune. “Well, then, I guess a little snack never hurt anybody. Oooh, hey, you think that that one cashier would be workin’ there this late? Y’know, the cute geology major with the braids?”
Either Daxter had short term memory loss, or he was a fantastic actor. Jak watched him thoughtfully as they left the bathroom to change for their late night adventure, consciously noticing the redhead’s mask of snarky humor for the first time. “She could be. Never know until we check.”
“Sweet. I personally think she’s a little bit crazy. I mean, come on, a thesis on moles? But she’s easy on the eyes!”
Jak chuckled. “Gotta agree with that.”
And just like that, things were tentatively cool once more. Jak had a lot to mull during their walk and long after, but it was more information about his new friend that he’d gotten in the entire two weeks preceding. He was satisfied. And he would, he vowed, continue to prove himself worthy of Daxter’s trust.
- // - // - // - // -
To be continued.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Room and Board