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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
- 24
- 25
- 26
- - - - -
Kuromei: Damas is indeed a perceptive man. More perceptive than Jak and Dax are, anyway. Glad you enjoyed!
MariMeeko: Damas is definitely Best Daddy, pandering to his offspring’s foolishness. Daxter’s expensive, definitely-not-a-gift-from-a-boyfriend shoes will continue to make appearances, as will more “experimental” sex, in showers and otherwise.
Kay: Actually, you CAN read the story in Phoenix and Razer’s perspective! Give “Rule 39” by grimreaperchibi a read. It should be just a few stories down the page from this one. I think you’ll enjoy it.
Xionamine: Their relationship is definitely getting stronger! It just takes time, like many good things do. I’m glad you’re enjoying the progression and build up.
Rockenrosy: Thanks for giving the story a chance! Glad to have you here for the ride.
Leigh: Good to have you back! Also good that you liked what you found upon your return. Hopefully it will continue to be an enjoyable experience for you.
DC: The most embarrassing of the embarrassing scenes. Will Daxter be able to triumph? Find out as our story continues!
- - - - -
Characters: Belong to Naughty Dog, Inc.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
On the first morning of spring semester, Daxter moaned and groaned himself awake under a barrage of insistent nudges from his roommate. “Whaaaaat?” he groused blearily, rubbing his face against the unusually bright glare of morning light through their window. “My alarm ain’t even gone off yet, ya nutcase!”
The quarterback’s voice was markedly smug. “It hasn’t gone off yet because I turned it off.”
“What?!” Daxter sat up so fast he nearly lost his balance, unused to being topside in a bunk bed after nearly a month away. “You jackass! Why would you do that? I’m gonna be late the very first day!” He was blindly scrambling down the ladder when Jak laughed.
“Because you didn’t need it. Classes have been cancelled. The whole campus is shut down.”
The redhead reached the floor, still confused and fighting an icky surge of bad adrenaline. “Say what, now?”
Jak’s grin was pure, childish happiness. “You’re not going to believe how much snow we got last night.”
With a pterodactyl screech of glee, Daxter bolted for the window. Clutching the curtains, he gazed out in awe.
It had been too dark the night before to see how much snow was actually accumulating as they moved back into the dorm. In the light of day, the results of the blizzard that had howled while they slept spread as far as the eye could see. Through the fat flakes still spiraling down, tiny earthmovers trundled up and down the paths and sidewalks, half hidden in deep ravines of snow. A plow truck slowly cruised the road in front of the building, scraping away layer after layer of white, only for it to be replaced almost instantly.
“The official report is twenty-seven inches,” Jak said from behind him, coming closer to drape an arm around his shoulders as they looked out together. “Radio said we could get four to six more before evening. Blowing and drifting will keep up into tonight.”
Daxter quivered with excitement, eying the drifts that had to come up to at least his hips. A service vehicle parked by the road was almost completely covered, only the antenna visible from beneath the mounds of snow. “Okay, so, hear me out: we get a kayak from the rec building, right, and we find a spot on that hill out back that doesn’t have too many trees in the way—”
“I don’t know, Dax. I should probably stay in and start reading the syllabus professor Vin emailed us this morning. Make good use of my time and everything.”
The redhead’s ears dropped instantly. That was it? No snow? No forts? No frozen projectiles to throw at Razer’s head? He had gotten so used to having Jak’s attention all to himself over break that the sudden reminder he would have to share the quarterback with schoolwork was like an unwelcome snowball to the eye.
His morose thoughts ground to a halt when Jak’s serious expression broke into a grin. “Pfff. Yeah right. You totally believed I was going to waste a snow day, didn’t you?”
“Ass. I need yer daddy here ta throw ya in a snowdrift for me.” He thumped the blonde lug’s barrel chest with a grudging grin in return. “Saddle up, big guy. We need nourishment for proper tomfoolery and I bet there’s some hash browns calling my name downstairs.”
Unfortunately for Daxter, there were no hash browns to be had. The rest of the dorm seemed to have gotten there first. With classes cancelled and nowhere to rush off to, everyone in Praxis Hall had migrated downstairs for food at roughly the same time. By the time the residents of room 317 arrived, most of the hot breakfast options had been scavenged. So had every seat in the dining room.
Jak and Daxter sat on the floor in a loose circle with Phoenix, Razer, and everybody’s favorite RA. The wide, open common area was littered with such circles, the din of several hundred students’ chatter echoing to the high ceiling.
“This blows,” Dax grumbled around a spoonful of oatmeal. “A snow day eatin’ subpar chow on the hard, drafty-ass floor—where’s the justice?”
“Justice would be whiny underclassmen choking on their spoons.” Torn glared at him over his coffee cup. “Be thankful there’s anything to eat at all. The kitchen is operating on a skeleton crew. All non-essential staff were told not to risk coming in this morning.”
“I think it’s kind of fun,” Phoenix offered. “Kind of like a picnic. In pajamas.” He took a swig of cold hot chocolate, grimaced, and dumped the rest into the potted ficus next to him. “At least the power didn’t go out last night. It was cold as balls in our room as it was. Can’t imagine what it’d feel like if the ‘heat’ went out.”
Jak laughed. “If the buses were running, I’d suggest buying an electric blanket.”
“Or burning the math books for warmth,” Dax supplied more cheerfully. “That’s always an option.”
For a moment Phoenix actually looked wistful. “Ah well. Snow’s got to melt down sometime. But in the meantime, what are your plans for the day, since classes are off the table?”
The redhead sat his empty oatmeal bowl aside and reached for his bottle of juice. “Well, since the rec center is closed and I can’t get that kayak we needed…” He grinned at Torn’s look of intense disapproval and morbid interest. “Jak ‘n me are gonna hike down to Pizza Haven.”
Razer, searching the pockets of his robe for smokes, looked skeptical. “The place isn’t closed? Most of the city is shut down. How much pizza do they really expect to sell?”
“They are closed, but Taryn needs a hand diggin’ the front sidewalk out and I’m the only employee who lives close enough ta walk there with all the roads closed.”
“Lucky you.” Razer raised a cigarette in triumph.
Phoenix promptly stole it. “If you think you’re going outside to smoke this in a robe and slippers, you’re mad. Coat first, please.” While his roommate sputtered indignantly, he turned a winning smile on Jak and Daxter. “Would you two be up for another movie night this evening? There’s not much else to do with campus shut down. We could celebrate an extra night without homework.”
“Sure,” Jak agreed at once. “That’d be fun. What are we watching?”
“Whatever strikes our fancy, I suppose.” Phoenix pulled the cigarette out of Razer’s impatient grabbing range. “Alright, alright! Let’s go get some proper clothes on and I’ll step outside with you.”
“I’m not going to remind you again that you better be smoking that at least twenty feet from the entrance of the building!” Torn bellowed, but the four were already heading for the stairs, focused on gearing up for their various arctic quests.
Daxter had a spring in his step. It was going to be a good day; he could feel it.
- // - // - // - // -
“This is madness,” Razer muttered around his cigarette, sourly contemplating the drifts that stood taller than head height against the side of the building. The blue hems of his long, red winter coat eddied around his knees in the flurry-laden wind.
“Madness? No.” Phoenix thundered up the freshly plowed path with all the enthusiasm of a cart horse let out of its stall for a morning frolic. “This. Is. Haven!”
Razer’s eyes widened, ears falling in alarm. At the last moment he dodged, sliding somewhat jerkily behind Jak as Phoenix left the ground.
The quarterback never knew what hit him. One minute he was reaching for a handful of snow to hit Daxter with, and the next minute he was on his face in a vast, freezing field of white three yards off the path with his running back crushing him into the drift.
Luckily, wrestling away from Phoenix wasn’t nearly as hard as wrestling away from his dad. Jak thrashed onto his back, caught his teammate neatly in the ribs with his snow boots, and launched him off. “I’m asking Sig to make you run extra suicides this spring,” he threatened, sitting up to shake snow out of his hair and ears.
“Love you too, Jak-o,” Phoenix sang from where he sprawled.
Razer took a long drag of his cigarette and rolled his eyes, unaware of the redhead sneaking up behind him. “Play nicely, children, or I might have to separate yo—oof!” He windmilled frantically, cigarette flying from his gloved hand, as Daxter’s push landed him in a cold heap on Phoenix’s lap.
“’Ello, mate,” Phoenix grinned.
Razer swore, trying and failing to struggle upright as his arms sank into the snow. “You little cretin!” he snarled, inadvertently kicking his roommate in the gut as he tried to get up and give chase. “I will strangle you with that hideously shabby scarf!”
“Ack!” Daxter quickly hightailed it out of range, running up the sidewalk away from the dorm, the red scarf Jak had given him fluttering behind. “Wow, would ya look at the time? Gotta get on our way ta Pizza Haven! C’mon, Jak, go go go go!”
Jak, still knee-deep in the drift, looked up in alarm. “Dax, wait, slow down—”
For once, speed was not the redhead’s friend. He lost traction on the icy path and slid smack into a half-buried trashcan with a yelp.
Jak facepalmed.
“It’s exactly what you deserve!” Razer shouted. Finally back on his feet, he brushed patches of snow off his coat and knees. “Idiot.”
Luckily, the trashcan was an industrial sized model of the kind that periodically littered all the sidewalks of campus; too heavy to tip. Daxter picked himself up and shook himself off, none the worse for wear, as Jak slogged out of the snowdrift.
“See you later!” Phoenix called from his snowy seat as the two began the trek of several blocks to Pizza Haven. “Think about what movies you want to watch!”
- - - - -
The journey was slow going. The sheer volume of snow that had to be cleared meant the plows could only open so much of each sidewalk, narrow lanes of slippery treachery bordered by canyon walls of piled snow that had to be navigated single file. Jak didn’t mind, though. He was content to bring up the rear, watching the tail of his scarf as it fluttered in the snowy wind at his roommate’s back. Seeing Daxter so eagerly wearing his old scarf and the Sentinel High coat he had been given made something in the quarterback purr with rightness.
“Are you starin’ at my butt?” Dax asked, looking suspiciously over his shoulder as they traversed a crosswalk.
“Who, me? No. I’m staring at your scarf.” He grinned. “That your scarf is touching your butt is purely coincidental.”
His roommate huffed and wrapped said scarf tighter around his neck and chin, but Jak had a hunch the redness kissing freckled cheeks wasn’t just a byproduct of the harsh wind.
As they rounded a corner off the main road onto a side street the wind died down, blocked by the row of buildings that housed the pizzeria. Up ahead they could see Ximon’s rattletrap pickup truck slowly backing into a freshly plowed parking space. Taryn shoveled industriously by the front door.
“Hey guys!” Daxter called as they skated up. “The life of the party has returned! You may now commence telling me how much you missed me.”
Taryn spared him a glance as she tossed a shovelful in front of the comic shop next door. “Do a good job shoveling and I may forgive you for disappearing for three weeks without notice.”
“Hey!” The redhead’s ears flew up indignantly as Jak laughed. “Gee, I’m happy ta see you too, sweetheart.” Gloved fists landed on cocked hips; a frostbitten nose turned up. “To think I even bribed Jak into comin’ along to help me help you out. I see where I stand.”
Ximon’s head and one shoulder appeared from inside the idling tuck. He had a ski cap jammed down over the top of his baseball hat. “Don’t let her fool you, dude. She couldn’t wait for you to get back. Kept saying how boring it was while you were gone.”
Taryn hefted a load of snow at his door. Almost simultaneously, the truck backfired in spectacular fashion. Everyone on the sidewalk jumped at the sudden explosion of sound. Taryn, already off balance, dropped her shovel and went down backwards with a startled shout as her boots went out from under her on the icy concrete.
Jak heard, with disturbing clarity, a crisp snap as she landed on her arm.
Her second scream was just as startled but infinitely more pained, echoing off the icicles hanging overhead. She rolled over and curled protectively around the injured arm even as Daxter and Jak lunged forward.
“Holy shit, that sounded bad! Where’s it hurt?” Daxter hit his knees on the ice and pulled his boss up gently until she was mostly upright, back propped against his chest.
“It’s broken, it’s broken—don’t touch it—!” Taryn snarled, still cradling her arm and looking queasy through reflexive tears of pain. “I think… I think it’s on the underside…”
Fractured ulna. Oh my god, she’ll never throw again, Jak’s athlete instincts told him dimly. Hospital. She needs to go to the—
The truck door slammed as Ximon fell out of it, struggling across the ice with abject panic in his voice. “Taryn! Oh, dude, cos, I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Can you get up?”
“My arm is broken, not my legs,” she hissed, getting slowly to her feet with three sets of helping hands. “I think I might need to go to the hospital.”
Daxter’s rapid breaths puffed white in the frigid air as his eyes rolled eloquently. “Oh, ya think? What was yer first clue, Sherlock?!” He didn’t let go of the double fistfuls of her parka, turning to Ximon before she could seethe a retort. “Dude, you’re gonna hafta take her to the ER.”
The blonde balked, face paling even further until his complexion seemed to match the snowy backdrop. “Me? Why can’t we call an ambulance?”
“Most of the roads are still snowed shut! It’d take ‘em half an hour ta get here when you could jam it in four wheel drive an’ have her there in five minutes!”
“I’m right here and fully able to be part of this conversation, you know,” Taryn huffed irritably.
Jak sized her arm up. There was no way to tell how bad things really were without getting her coat off, something better left to the medical professionals if they didn’t want to hurt her any more than she already was. But if they could stabilize it somehow…
“Taryn, can we try to splint this?” he asked her. “I broke my arm falling off an ostrich when I was a kid and our neighbor splinted it with a hand trowel and bailing twine. I know basic field first aid, so I think I could wrap yours up pretty well. It might make the ride easier on you.”
“You fell off a what when you were a child?” A violet brow rose incredulously. She didn’t stop hugging her arm. “The hospital isn’t far, so I’m not sure a splint would do much good in this case—” She wavered, wobbled slightly, and winced hard as the arm shifted the smallest fraction. “Well then, why don’t we do that after all.”
Ximon, in a fit of inspiration, lunged back into the truck and emerged with an ice scraper. “Here, use this!”
“Perfect.” Jak grabbed it, scanning the vicinity. “Okay, now we just need something to tie—”
Daxter was already unwinding his scarf. “Make sure I get this back when the docs are through with ya, okay Toots? Sentimental value, y’know.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” she cooed sarcastically, even as moving her arm into proper slinging position sprang fresh tears to her eyes. “I’m sure the moths in your closet will miss it terribly.”
“Hey! Okay, now yer beggin’ for a day-old breadstick swordfight. Me an’ you, lady! I’ll tie one arm behind my back so it’ll be fair.”
Friendly bickering kept the patient distracted, and the makeshift splint was on in minutes.
Ximon leapt back into his truck as Jak and Daxter helped Taryn into the passenger seat. “Don’t worry about a thing, babe,” the redhead assured as Ximon leaned over to buckle her in. “Me an’ Jakkie-boy will get the walk shoveled in no time, and I’ll call Osmo and tell him what happened. We can just close up shop fer a few days while you heal up. No biggie.”
“No we can’t!” she protested, leaning out the open window, snowflakes caught in her ponytail. “Daxter, the restaurant has to stay open. Christmas break was nearly dead; it always is with everyone off campus. We need the revenue this week.” She bit her lip worriedly, as stressed as Jak had ever seen her. “I still need to finalize everyone’s schedules, and the dough batches for tomorrow need to be started, and—”
“And you need to go to the ER an’ get a damn cast on yer broken arm!” Daxter yelled, flailing in exasperation. “I’ll take care of all of it, okay? Just go!” He backed away from the rumbling truck and waved Ximon onward. “Make sure they give her lots and lots of pain meds, alright? Sheesh.”
Obeying his command, the behemoth trundled slowly off through the snowy lanes. They watched in silence as it rounded the corner and disappeared.
“I just committed to being responsible, didn’t I?” Daxter sighed. “Crap, did I just volunteer ta be the stand-in manager?” He rubbed his face in frustration, gloves making cold-nipped cheeks even redder and more tender. “I think I just volunteered ta be the stand-in manager! Man, how do I get myself into these messes?”
“I’ll finish shoveling while you do… managerial stuff?” Jak offered.
“I don’t know anything about bein’ a manager! … except that somebody’s gotta cover Taryn in the kitchen or we’re sunk.” The redhead’s ears angled back in thought. “Good idea though, Jakkie-boy. You shovel while I go make some calls. Maybe I can get Ellie an’ Riley in the kitchen for Taryn the next week or two—they’re the best pizza makers we got when they’re not throwin’ dough balls and doin’ dorky dances in the kitchen.”
“You and I do dorky dances,” Jak pointed out reasonably.
The new manager was less than impressed with reason. “Less talking, more shoveling!” With a grand flourish, he disappeared into the pizzeria with a cheerful tinkling of the bells over the door.
- // - // - // - // -
They ended up spending the whole afternoon at Pizza Haven.
Daxter called each of his coworkers in turn, explaining what had happened to Taryn and hammering out definitive shifts for the next pay period. When all was said and done, he admired their manager’s restraint just a little bit more. Some of their employees’ excuses for avoiding unpopular shifts were horrendous.
Initially he felt bad for ruining his roommate’s day by asking him to stay and help, but Jak didn’t seem to mind. He shoveled off the sidewalk in front of the entire length of the building and threw down salt to dissolve the ice that had caused Taryn’s wipeout. Once or twice Daxter glanced out the front windows, phone to his ear, and caught the quarterback leaning on his snow shovel, looking back at him with a smile on his face.
Daxter absolutely did not blush and turn quickly back to the staffing schedule tacked to the wall.
Jak tromped in not long after that, trailing melting salt crystals across the checkered floor. “All finished.” He propped the shovel against the wall and leaned against the counter next to the cash register. “If anybody falls out there now, it’s their own fault.”
Ice and snow frozen into blonde strands was already starting to melt in the warm, pizza-scented air. Daxter reached out without thinking to brush at them. “Thanks, big guy. I owe ya one. For your efforts, there will be pizza. And possibly a BJ.”
Jak’s ears perked in immediate interest. “At the same time?”
“Dude, no!” The redhead’s face flushed with more than the heat of the oven he’d fired up. “Not the second thing, jeez! Food now, blowjobs later.”
Somehow the quarterback managed to look mostly innocent. “Right. Just had to ask.”
Daxter glowered. “I’m beginning to suspect you have a food fetish.” The oven buzzed in the background. “And fer the record, you are not allowed ta turn me on at work!” He grabbed the wooden peel and, months of practice serving him well, semi-expertly placed the steaming pizza on a cooling rack.
A green eyebrow rose along with the steam. “So you admit that the idea turns you on.”
Daxter propped the peel against the wall with a bang. “Say what?”
“Nothing.” And there was the innocent fake jock act again. “Yay pizza!”
“S’what I thought, wise guy.” He began to slice the pie with a vengeance, hopefully hiding his embarrassment.
It wasn’t like it was his fault that he sort of fantasized occasionally while he was at work. He couldn’t be blamed if his mind started to wander when he was in the middle of a dead shift, could he? If while he was standing at the counter like a zombie he started to imagine Jak pinning him to that counter, kissing him stupid, hips grinding against his—
His brain so did not need fuel for those fantasies, especially not now, when he and Jak were actually alone there together.
Next to the register, his phone rang. Flustered, he grabbed it. “Hello, what?!”
//“Hey dude. Only me.”//
“Ximon!” Daxter quickly turned his back on the hunky blonde distraction across the way. “What’s going on? How’s Taryn?”
//“Way happier than she was a little while ago. Morphine is a wonderful thing, dude.”// The delivery dude chuckled. //“So how are things on your end? If she weren’t for a loop right now I know cos would want to know about the schedule.”//
“The schedule’s done, sidewalk’s clear, dough’s rising, and everything’s under control.” Daxter polished his nails on the front of his shirt. “Tell Taryn she’s welcome.”
There was muttering on the other end as Ximon relayed the message, then sounds of a scuffle before Taryn’s voice broke in. Loudly. //“Hello, Daxter? You are wonderful and adorable and when I get back I’m going to hug you and squeeze you, you perfect little thing~”//
For just a moment, Daxter was speechless. Then he and Jak simultaneously cracked up. “You are sooo high right now,” he laughed helplessly. “Put Ximon back on, okay? And take it easy!”
Ximon returned soon after. //“Okay, dude, I gotta go. They’re about to discharge her.”//
“Do I need ta stay here an’ help her get settled?” Daxter asked.
//“Nah, dude, I’m taking her home with me. Figured I’d better keep an eye on her tonight. Somebody has to make sure she takes her meds and keep her away from the car keys. She’ll start trying to go back to work as soon as the painkillers wear off.”//
“Good plan. Give me a call if you need anything.”
Jak was still amused as Daxter ended the call. “Wow. That was more niceness from her in thirty seconds than I’ve heard since you started working here.”
Dax shrugged rakishly. “What can I say? Even the badass babes can’t deny my charms forever.”
“So charming,” the green-blonde agreed solemnly. “Especially when the people you’re charming are high on morphine.”
“Do you want this pizza? Because I do not have to give you this pizza,” Daxter threatened pointedly.
“No, no, I want the pizza,” Jak soothed.
“Then I would advise you pipe down an’ eat it so we can get home before dark.” He deftly plated the pie onto a serving platter and flourished it onto the counter in front of his jock. “And no more wise cracks or I’ll make you give me the blowjob.”
This time it was Jak who flushed. He folded a slice of pizza and crammed it into his mouth without another word.
Daxter chose his own slice, confident that he had come out on top of their exchange. And if his pants were ever so slightly tight and uncomfortable at the thoughts now swimming happily in his brain, it seemed a fair price for victory.
- // - // - // - // -
“I can’t believe you never saw Aliens before. It’s a classic.” Safely back inside their own room, Jak ate the last few pieces of popcorn and crumpled the bag.
Movie night with Phoenix and Razer had gone exceptionally well. They had watched the first two films in the series before Razer had all but kicked them out to prepare for the coming morning’s classes. The normally unruffled transfer student had appeared properly horrified throughout the viewing; exactly the reaction a good sci-fi horror movie aimed for.
Daxter flopped onto Jak’s bunk with a protesting groan of old wood. “That was seriously the creepiest thing I’ve ever watched. We should’a watched those on Halloween! Well, I mean, if we weren’t out makin’ trouble.” He rolled over and reached down to lift the edge of Jak’s comforter off the floor. “Sheesh, those face-huggy things, though! That part where they were sleepin’ and it was hiding in the room with ‘em? Gonna be glad I don’t sleep on the bottom bunk tonight—”
Killer shot out with a screech just as Daxter’s upside down face peeked underneath.
The redhead screamed loudly, fell off the bunk in a flurry of flailing limbs, and landed face first on the rug.
Unable to form words, Jak laughed until he cried.
“Holy shit!” Daxter struggled upright on the rug, breathing hard and clutching the front of his shirt over his heart. “That was seriously not cool, weasel!” He looked up at Jak. “Some support you are. I’m down here fearin’ for my life and you’re laughin’. So mean, Jak.”
“That was beautiful,” Jak proclaimed. “I’m going to treasure that moment forever.”
True to form, his roommate flipped him off. “So what’re we gonna do the rest of the night?” he asked, pulling himself back onto the bunk.
Sorting through the pile of new textbooks on his desk, Jak found the volume for the history class they had signed up for together. “I thought I’d skim the first chapter of non-Western Civ so I can take better notes during the lecture tomorrow.” Book in hand, he crossed to the bunks and sat down on his own. “Want to read too?”
Daxter’s face convulsed, but he nodded grudgingly. “Since I ain’t got anything better ta do, I guess so. But only if we can, like, get up under the blankets. I forgot how cold it gets in here.”
With orchestrated shuffling, they settled in. Pillows were mounded, blankets were situated, and Jak finally settled in with the chapter propped open on his stomach and Daxter draped over his chest. A small rustle heralded Killer a moment later, who walked all over both of them before finding a spot that he liked on Jak’s knees.
“Can you see?” Jak asked.
“Pretty much, yeah.”
The quarterback chuckled and began to read silently to himself. Every few minutes he would grab the corner of a page questioningly before turning it at Daxter’s distracted nod.
Halfway through the chapter, he paused. “Are you even paying attention?” he asked, glancing down at the mop of red hair that was his bedfellow. “I’m not going to let you see my notes if you’re not going to do the reading.”
“Of course I’m payin’ attention. I’m learnin’ all about non-western civilizations, here.” Daxter squinted at the book. “Though, I gotta ask. Why’d you wanna sign up for this class, anyway? What’s so great about it?”
“Because it talks about more than just Europe. I’ve spent my whole life hearing about all the countries and customs and cultures of the whole world from my uncle, but we never did more than skim over most of it in high school.” The quarterback shrugged amiably. “Figured I’ll never be an explorer like my uncle, but at least this way I won’t be totally ignorant about the rest of the planet.”
Daxter blinked up at him. “You couldn’t just say ‘because history is a required core class’ like all the rest of the jocks and leave it at that, could ya.”
“No, I couldn’t.”
The redhead grinned impishly. “I thought not.” Sneaky fingers suddenly plucked the book from Jak’s grasp. “Fascinating as that is, I can deny it no longer—readin’ history ain’t exactly what I’d prefer to be doin’ in bed.” He dropped the textbook off the edge of the mattress with a thump that made Killer jump and scuttle off the bed indignantly. “I think I might’a mentioned something about a BJ earlier?”
Jak’s heart beat faster. “Yeah, I think I remember that.” He’d remembered it several times since that afternoon. He just hadn’t been planning on bringing it up. But now, with a bold (if chilly) hand inching down his torso beneath the blankets, the subject had been broached without him.
“What kind of pal would I be if I went back on my promises?” Dax purred, nuzzling under Jak’s chin in a way that pushed them both flatter into the pillows. Fingers breached the flimsy barrier that was the waistband of the quarterback’s sweatpants.
Jak struggled to focus despite the all-systems override in favor of what was happening. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I won’t be mad.”
“But there’s this cool thing I been wanting to try!” The hand down his pants began to knead the rapidly forming hardness in his boxers persuasively. “I found it online. That tablet’s the best thing that’s ever happened ta me, I swear.”
Jak’s eyes rolled for more than one reason. “I seriously doubt my dad gave you that so you could watch porn on it,” he managed, rocking his hips into the attention.
“My phone screen is the size of a playing card. My tablet screen’s the size of a textbook. You tell me which one shows better details for researchin’ all things sexy.”
“Touché.” Ticklish kisses were pecked down his stomach as his sweats were eased lower. “You know, I promised myself back before we even started all this that I’d never ask you for a blowjob.” Jak kept his eyes glued to the bunk bed slats overhead. “Didn’t want to freak you out after what you told me happened in high school.” His fingers trailed the sensitive ridge of a velvety ear. “But I can see now that I totally underestimated you. You’re hardcore, Dax.”
The redhead grinned crookedly. “Maybe I’m just gettin’ used ta the idea that this bi stuff ain’t so bad after all.” He turned his attention back to the task at hand; tracing through Jak’s treasure trail in a way that made the quarterback’s abs instinctively want to curl into a crunch. “You don’t ever gotta give me one back, though. It’s cool. A straight quarterback just up and blowin’ some random guy would be pretty weird.”
Jak immediately lifted his head off the pillow to look down at his best friend indignantly. “Hey, you’re not some random—” Then his boxers were out of the way and the lips on his dick dropkicked his train of thought.
Daxter kissed from the head to the base and back up again as the hot length lay against Jak’s belly. Every application of lips was careful and precise, obviously planned from his “research.”
Jak found absolutely nothing to complain about. “Just how many blowjob videos did you watch?” he asked helplessly, shuddering into the sheets as a particularly hot open-mouthed kiss to the head heralded the tip of an even hotter tongue darting into the slit there.
A self-satisfied hum was the only answer.
The next ten minutes were close to heaven. Whatever is was Daxter had been watching, he went at his second blowjob with technique far beyond his experience level. He knew just where to flick his tongue, how to lap around the head, how firmly to encircle the base. He didn’t even gag himself once.
This time it was Jak who struggled to keep it quiet. He sucked in deep breaths, petting all the soft hair and warm ears his hands could reach as he was thoroughly worked over. By the time he came, a surprising rush as unexpected fingers pressed behind his balls, he was rather pitifully chanting “Dax, Dax, Dax—” under his breath.
The redhead let him finish, soothingly petting his hip, then swallowed like a pro. Jak couldn’t help but remember their first mutual experience with blowjobs and grin crookedly at the enormous difference.
“You’ve officially been thanked for shoveling,” Dax panted, cheeks pink and lips puffy.
“Can I shovel the sidewalk tomorrow?” Jak asked breathlessly.
Daxter cackled. “Mooch. I guess, since you did such a good job.” He crawled up the bed, his own arousal painfully obvious. “So was that better than the first time?”
Jak pulled him down by the hips with a satisfied rumble. “You definitely get a gold star for your research project, if that tells you anything.” With his friend firmly pressed against the length of his body, he wasted no time in making sure that Daxter was satisfied too... if only in the same old way they’d been doing it for weeks already.
The quarterback frowned minutely. Dax was putting extensive thought into their arrangement, even going so far as researching new techniques to experiment with. Obviously Jak was going to have to step up his game.
For the moment, though, Daxter seemed perfectly content to straddle a strong thigh and rock, breath stuttery and shallow, gripping handfuls of Jak’s shirt.
Then he stopped, eyes fixed on something behind the green-blonde.
“What’s wrong?” Jak asked.
Red cheeks slowly turned redder as flushed ears fell. “… yer weasel’s starin’ at me.”
“What?” Jak craned his neck and looked back, upside down.
Sure enough, Killer crouched on his desk chair, beady black eyes fixed on the two in the bottom bunk. He made eye contact with Jak, sneezed, and didn’t look away.
“See?” the redhead whined. “He’s lookin’ at me. Make him quit it.”
“Dax, he’s a ferret. He can’t mentally process what he’s seeing. He probably thinks we’re wrestling or something.”
“I still don’t like it,” Daxter huffed petulantly, though his hips still moved minutely against Jak’s. “Privacy, weasel! Is that too much to ask?”
“He’s been in this room every time we’ve had sex here and now suddenly it’s an issue?” Jak groaned.
“I don’t care if he’s in here, I just don’t like feelin’ watched, okay?!”
That gave Jak an idea. Slowly he moved his hold from Daxter’s hips to the seat of his boxers, molding his hands around the firm curve he liked so much, and began to sensuously restart the redhead’s broken thrusting rhythm. “You mean like I was watching you earlier?” he whispered into a warm ear that perked to attention at his words. “I kept looking in at you while I was shoveling, watching you be all badass and take charge of everything. You’re cute when you’re being serious.”
There was an unsteady snigger. “Jak, did you seriously just call me ‘cute?’ I’m sexy as fuck.” But he did resume his own rhythm without assistance.
“So sexy,” the quarterback agreed, nibbling the ear as it happened to stray into range.
In moments Daxter was writhing and shuddering, muffling a moan in Jak’s shoulder as his hips rolled against Jak’s thigh.
With a pang, Jak realized he already missed hearing those unbridled sounds of pleasure. There were definite downsides to dorm life.
When Daxter came Jak swallowed his whine in a deep kiss, tasting a hint of himself on his friend’s lips. He savored the feel of the warm body draped over his own, wrapping Daxter in a strong embrace as his wire-tight form finally began to relax.
“Sheesh, Hercules, we’re in bed, not the gridiron,” the redhead snickered into his neck. “Loosen up.”
Green brows waggled in response.
That night neither of them finished their reading.
- // - // - // - // -
To be continued.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Outtakes!
- - - - -
Taryn: Daxter, you are wonderful and precious and I love you~!
Dax: Ha! Did you hear that, Jak? Someone appreciates my awesomeness. …Jak?
Jak: Suddenly I feel an unreasonable yet undeniable surge of rage and hatred for your boss. Any chance you’ll quit before I start posturing like an idiot?
Dax: Heck no. Posture, my football pigeon, posture!
- - - - -
Jak: Okay, all in favor of watching aliens with acid blood burst out of people’s ribcages, say aye.
Razer: Absolutely not!
Jak, Dax & Phoenix: YAY ALIENS! :D
Razer: … when I wake screaming in the night, you will be the first one I kill, Mar.
- - - - -
Dax: Jaaaak, your ferret’s watching me!
Jak: So? He’s an animal. He has no higher thought processes. It’s not like he’s judging you.
Killer: // I am judging you so hard right now, skinny human. You’re in the dominant position and you’re not even dragging him around by the neck! Come on, bite his head! //
Dax: … it’s getting really creepy.
Killer: // Mating fail, humans. No wonder you’ve been doing this for months and you still haven’t managed to reproduce yet. //
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