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Love is War	By : grimreaperchibi Category: +G through L > Jak & Daxter Views: 4213 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Jak & Daxter, nor the places, people, or objects within. I make no money writing this. Additional disclaimer within.

Chapter List
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A/N: Random question time! All this music stuff is obviously doing something for me. Is it doing something for anyone else? Just curious. You'll also note that this particular title is Japanese, but the lyrics have been translated (probably badly) by myself. This is the opening is for a game-turned-anime called Air. Very weird plotline... Moving on!
Amaronith: I'm so happy you're enjoying this. You and Robin having me working tirelessly on it (that's a good thing, by the way), and hopefully it's only going to get better from here.
Robin: Thank you for being so sweet to me! Let's get to some lovin' for these boys, shall we?
Additional Disclaimer: The lyrics used within are part of the fair use clause of copyright law and remain the property of the individual artists and recording companies to which they belong. Any misconstruing/mistyping of the lyrics is strictly the fault of the author. All lyrics are used here only for setting ambience.
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Chapter 3 – Tori no Uta (Lia)
Morning, if that’s what this fresh hell could be called, came far too early and far too loudly for Jak’s tastes. He felt like he’d been stomped on by an angry bull yakow. Everything between his ears felt like it had been crammed so full of wool, he could feel every little pulse of blood in his brain. His tongue seemed stuck to the roof of his mouth, his stomach was making unhappy noises and if that infernal beeping didn’t stop soon, he might very well go Dark and never come back. The only comfort he had was the solid, yet comfortable surface he was resting on, which was apparently not as solid as he thought—he felt it dip and whined as his stomach dipped with it. Cool fingertips brushed over his forehead.
“Just hang on a lil’ bit more, pal. I’ll get ya sorted out.” The beeping finally stopped as the dip one more smoothed out. He felt something get pulled over his head, helping muffle the extra noise. “What the fuck do you want now, Torn? No, Jak’s busy. Tell me or blow it out yer ear.”
The ensuing silence made Jak brave enough to crack open his eyes. The world was gray and fuzzy…wait, that was a blanket. He peered cautiously out to see Daxter leaning against the far wall, scowling at the communicator in his hand. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get yer panties in a twist. We’ll be there—Hey! I said we’ll be there an’ we will. If ya’d quit yappin’, we might even get there early. Yeah, fuck you too, asshole.” He deliberately turned the device off and chucked it somewhere out of sight. Hands scrubbed tiredly over his face with a sigh, but he smiled when he saw Jak.
Crawling carefully back onto the bed, Daxter laid out so that he could peer back. “Well mornin’, buttercup,” he said in a soft, yet endlessly amused tone. “You still three sheets to the wind, or just hung out to dry?” Jak tried to glare. It only made his head feel worse. Daxter snickered and started stroking his face again, the cool helping the incessant pounding just behind his eyes. “Guess it just shows you can’t be perfect at everythin’ ya do. But seriously, buddy, don’t let it get ‘round that it was just beer that knocked ya flat. Totally ruin yer badass image.”
“Dax…” It was supposed to be a growl. It can out as little more than a whimper.
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He smacked the back of his own head. “Feel better? Good, ‘cuz we got just about two hours to make ourselves presentable. Apparently we finally did somethin’ worth gettin’ noticed an’ now that Shadow-guy wants to see us. So up an’ at ‘em, hero; we gotta save the world again.”
Jak groaned, trying to hide under the blanket again. Just what he wanted, to see the man he’d been searching for since the day he’d escaped the Fortress while nursing a hangover that could knock a Lurker for a loop. Sounded like the perfect way to create a good first impression. A particularly sharp pain in his head made his stomach twist uncomfortably. Those wonderful hands stopped petting and started pulling.
“C’mon, big guy. Bathroom. Now. The world’s gonna hate ya for a minute, but you’ll feel better for it in the end. Trust me.”
Movement did decidedly unpleasant things to his system, but he allowed Daxter to get him mostly upright and into the bathroom, where he promptly lost whatever was left in his stomach. Long fingers gently pulled his hair up and back, stroking and soothing until he was through. He was forced to drink some water, swallow what he was told were painkillers, and brush his teeth before being allowed to stumble back to bed. From there, Daxter fed him tiny bits of bread and more water. For a while, it honestly felt like dying would have been the better option. Every time he tried to choke down what he was offered, it felt like everything was about to come back up. But Daxter was patient in that “do it yourself or I’ll do it for you” manner that Jak knew better than to argue with. It was a bitch to deal with it, but after a little while, he actually began to feel better.
“How did I manage to get the hangover?” he grumbled, finally feeling well enough to be sitting up and helping his friend sort and repack. “You drank twice as much as me.”
“An’ I’ve been drinkin’ six times longer than you,” Daxter pointed out. “I’d hope my tolerance was higher. I also didn’t drink like I was dyin’ of thirst. I may’ve finished all those bottles, but not a single one had more than a few servin’s left. How many beers didja blow through that first hour anyway?”
Jak flipped him off, unable to come up with a suitable verbal response. Okay, so maybe it was his fault for not paying more attention to how much he drank. But he’d never walked out of the saloon feeling more than a slight warmth after drinking, and that only lasted for a few minutes. The eco treatments had changed more than just his temperament. He didn’t sleep or eat as much anymore, nightmares and lack of decent food aside. It took twice as much to wound him as it did Daxter and he still healed in days rather than weeks. He could bend metal with his bare hands, for Precursors’ sake. Why would he think a few beers would kick his ass this hard?
Daxter stuck his tongue out in response. “Hey, if it makes ya feel better, I don’t remember leavin’ the bar last night. Word to the wise, stay away from the shit in the purple bottle—it will jack you up six ways from next week.” He frowned when Jak continued to stare at him. “What?”
“You seriously don’t remember anything from last night? Nothing at all?”
“Should I?”
Jak just shook his head. Unbelievable. Only his friend could make an exceptionally huge deal out of something and then forget all about it the next day. A part of him was almost insulted at being forgotten like that, but something about the whole affair was more exasperating than annoying. It answered a couple of the questions Jak had as well. No, Daxter wouldn’t have said anything and yes, he would still be thinking about taking their relationship to a more personal level.
He kept the revelation to himself, however. At least for the time being. The redhead became increasingly agitated with the brush-offs and misdirects, but Jak took a vindictive sort of pleasure from being able to annoy him like this. Served the loud mouth brat right after waking up without so much as a fuzzy tongue from their night of drinking. He managed to hold out until they were just about to leave for the meeting. That was when Daxter had reached the end of the begging and cajoling phase and moved on to the demanding portion. He planted himself in front of the door and refused to move until Jak told him what he wanted to know.
“You’re not going to drop this, are you?” Jak asked mildly.
“Nope. I can do this all day.”
“I could just move you myself.”
“An’ lose yer hands in the process.”
“I’m sure there’s other things you’d rather I did with my hands.” He wasn’t sure where that had come from, but the reaction it caused was interesting. Whatever snippy comeback was next was swallowed nervously. Daxter’s eyes went wide as he flattened himself against the door. Something purred in the back of Jak’s mind as he leaned forward. “This is what you did…” he whispered just before sealing their mouths together.
His first kiss had been electrical. His second still had the same spark, but was much, much warmer. It was like being submerged in perfectly warmed water head first, the way it melted through his system, making him hot in a not unpleasant way from the tips of his ears to the ends of his toes. The lips against his were warm and slightly chapped, soft in a way he had never experienced before. It felt good, relaxing something in that dark place that now existed inside him. He felt Daxter’s hands tentatively press against his chest and leaned into the touch, deepening the kiss slightly before pulling away.
Short, sweet, simple. Yet they were both breathing hard and flushed. It was a rather fetching shade, Jak thought. A rosy pink quite unlike any other he’d seen on his friend before. It stained Daxter’s cheeks and the very edges of his ears, turning still wide, wondering eyes an even more brilliant shade of blue. How much more would it take to cover most of his skin in that colour, he wondered absently. The thought didn’t get far.
“J-Jak?” The redhead sounded so small, uncertain and almost scared. It was impossible to deny the urge to kiss him again. Of all the things he didn’t know, the one thing he did know was that he never wanted Daxter to be scared around him. He hesitated slightly this time, giving his friend time to move before once again letting their lips meet.
This time, all he felt was heat. It flooded his senses, curling through his chest before finally setting in his stomach. From there, it radiated out, growing steadily stronger, more intense, until every part of him seemed almost uncomfortably warm. It somehow felt even better this time around, demanding more. There was a squeak as he pressed harder, the hands that had been resting now clutching desperately at his shirt. He rumbled in satisfaction, but there was something more he could sense himself reaching for now that he was saturated in this half-melted, dizzying, relaxed-yet-jittery feeling. Something that was supposed to come next.
In the absence of knowing what that something was, Jak pulled away again. He pressed their foreheads together, trying to ground himself and provide support at the same time. When the hands fisted in his shirt finally released, he pulled back the rest of the way. The pretty blush had intensified on Daxter’s cheeks, flowing further up his ears and starting to creep down his neck. He shouldn’t have been as pleased about that as he was…
Their hearts stopped racing. Their breathing slowed. The world completely reasserted itself and still, the dazed look on Daxter’s face refused to leave. Jak began to shift nervously in the silence. Under any other circumstance, he probably would have been smug as hell for finding a way to shut his friend up. Now, it was just nerve wrecking. Had he done something wrong? Was he not supposed to respond? Had this been one of those things that you’re only supposed to do when you’re drunk? It only became more awkward the longer it went on. Daxter would have made some lame joke and laughed it all off. The best Jak managed was a dry cough, followed by a mumbled, “We should probably get going.”
That seemed to snap the redhead from his trance. “Shit! We’re probably already late. Damn it, an’ after I told that son of a Lurker we’d be there on time…” And then he was out the door without looking back. Jak quietly followed, determined not to let the sudden ache in his chest mean anything.

***

For the first time in what felt like forever, Daxter felt clean. He was wet, cold, and bruised from his (failed) attempt to herd Metalhead Scouts, but gloriously clean. And that alone made the rest of it therefore worth it.
Haven Forest was a bright, sunny spot in an otherwise desperate landscape, a balm for wounds that kept getting ripped open. He could barely count how many ways the current situation was screwed up, and frankly, he was starting to get tired of trying. The list was starting to seem endless. Might as well label the whole mess as fubar-ed and move on. A home that wasn’t recognizable as theirs, a high and mighty sage with amnesia and a tree root up his ass… Hey! Maybe that’s what Torn’s problem was! He’d been taking it so long from Samos he needed something a little bigger to keep himself upright. Okay, that was a visual he really didn’t need, but who needed any of it? Not him. Not when he had Jak.
Sort of.
They really hadn’t spoken since that morning. A bit of banter when they realized this great Underground leader was none other than Old Loghead himself, some quickly shouted instructions while trying to round up the Metalhead Scouts, but that was the scope and depth of any conversation. And now that they had a little time to breathe, Jak had taken off on the jetboard. So Daxter had used the freezing water to bathe, then decided it was pointless to clean himself up only to put dirty clothes back on and began washing clothes, too. In fact, he’d washed just about everything that could be washed, waiting for Jak to stop avoiding him. The only reason he knew he hadn’t simply been dumped was because he could still hear the humming of the jetboard crescendo and fall away again at regularly timed intervals. He still hadn’t gotten more than a glimpse of blond and blue disappearing into the green flora.
Figuring Jak would probably want to clean up as well, he’d left the soap at the water’s edge were it would hopefully be tripped over and crawled up on a rock to sun. After basking long enough to think of something other than how damn cold he was, he finally admitted it was his fault Jak had run off. The night before was still a huge blank, though he got the gist of it. Drank himself into a stupor, kissed the blond bombshell that was his best friend and lust object, and only after that, finally passed out properly. Wasn’t that hard to figure out, really. He would have been more distressed over not remembering his first real kiss if he hadn’t been freaking out over the fact that he’d broken Golden Rule Number One—give Jak absolutely no reason to leave. It was the only absolute in his constantly shrinking world, the only rule he never pressed or tried to undermine somehow, being cross-eyed drunk notwithstanding. Jak had let him slide on that transgression, turning the tables and kissing him like it meant more than a tease to humiliate him and what did he do? Broke Number One again by standing there like the slack-jawed idiot people accused him of being. Jak had a right to be put off after a stunt like that. Hell, Daxter wanted to slap himself silly.
But at the same time, he couldn’t quite put himself on the line like that. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t just thrust the tattered remains of his heart at Jak and then watch them blow away in a wind of indifference. Or worse, burn under hatred. He’d learned the hard way that the most important thing in his life was the friend he’d tried to leave behind. Sure, he’d survived the streets of Haven all alone once before, but having Jak back in his life had just proven he was really only as strong as he needed to be. Strong only when something desperate was there, pushing him forward. If he tried to push it, there’d be no way to uncross that line once he drew it, no way to come back to this dysfunctional yet amiable co-dependency nonsense they had going on right now. Even if they didn’t split outright, it would only prolong the death throes. It hurt too much just thinking about it. There was no way he’d live through the real thing.
The thrum of the jetboard cut off abruptly. Daxter peered down from his rock to see Jak putting the contraption away as he slowly moved toward the shoreline. Even from a distance, he could see the blank scowl on Jak’s face, the rigidity of his posture screaming everything that dark, rolling voice wouldn’t. Pain, anger, betrayal…Jak had pulled back from it all, turning himself in to the mindless weapon Praxis had tried to fashion him as. Everything that had been wrestled back to the surface was buried once more, the diligent work of weeks gone in a single flash of stupidity.
…Maybe they’d already crossed that line. Maybe it had been crossed long before either of them had known it was even there. It was more than impossible to go back to the children they’d been or the kinds of relationships the young and innocent could maintain. They had changed. The way they related to each other had changed. The home and people they knew didn’t exist anymore, leaving nothing but dust behind. The only direction left was forward. Wasn’t that a desperate enough reason? And if this gamble turned up snake-eyes, well…the world wasn’t likely to miss him anyway. Anything was better than letting Praxis win this last little bit of Jak, though.
Thinking and doing were two entirely different things. It took a while to be sure enough in his chosen course of action that he’d be able to burn the world down without suddenly chickening out. Daxter knew himself—he’d try it once he was really under the gun. While he psyched himself up, Jak had taken the soap as the hint it was meant to be and was studiously washing up, knee deep in the water and still mostly clothed. That meant he was suitably occupied by the time enough iron had been strapped to nerve to allow Daxter to leave the dubious safety of his rock and approach. He stood on the water’s edge, trying to think of something close to appropriate to start this downward spiral off when his mouth opened and said something for him.
“I love you.”
Jak started, turning to stare at him with a mixed expression. “What?”
Oh, damn, he hadn’t meant to start off like this… “I love you,” Daxter repeated, sounding a hell of a lot calmer than he felt. “At first, it’s ‘cuz you were my friend. An’ then you were a brother, ‘cuz I didn’t have anyone else. An’ I think that if none of the rest of this bullshit had happened, that’s where it woulda stayed. But it did, an’ now…now it’s more than that. I love you more than just a friend or a brother… I just…” Words failed and his nerve fled. “Just kill me quickly, okay?”
Nothing moved for what felt like an eternity. Then, slowly, Jak held his hand out, like he wanted help climbing out. Without a second thought, Daxter grabbed his hand, completely missing the evil glint in Jak’s eyes. As soon as he had a firm grip, the blond yanked his friend into the water. Daxter shrieked, once when he was pulled off his feet and again when he surfaced after his dunking. Holy Mother of the Precursors, that water was fucking cold! What little warmth he’d gained back was long gone and he couldn’t really feel his lungs, which was making breathing interesting. Before he could gather his wits, arms wrapped around him, hauling him back against a broad chest. He cringed, waiting to be pushed back under. Not the nicest way to die, but he couldn’t really breathe anyway…
Instead, Jak sighed heavily against his neck. “You’re so aggravating, you know that?” he growled. “You say one thing, you do another, and no matter which way I go, it’s just wrong. I can’t keep up with the constant change. So which is it, Dax? Which am I supposed to react to, what you say, or what you do?”
Slowly, carefully, Daxter turned. The angry indifference had fallen away, making Jak look young, lost, and melancholy. It made him feel like he’d kicked a litter of crocadog pups. “You of all people should know what a coward I am,” he finally said, finding it hard to look Jak in the eye. He picked a relatively harmless spot on his chest to focus in on. “But I won’t lie to ya. If ya can’t trust anything else, trust me to tell you the truth.”
He received a short nod. “How long?”
“The dreams, about two months,” he said, flushing guiltily. “The love thing…a couple days. At least, that’s when I first started really thinkin’ about it.”
“And this morning?”
“You startled me. All I could think was that you were tryin’ to make fun of me ‘cuz I couldn’t remember the night before. An’ when ya kissed me again, everythin’ just kinda…I don’t know, shut down. I didn’t know how to respond, so I didn’t do anythin’.”
“I wasn’t making fun of you. I wanted to.”
Daxter finally managed to look up, unable to stop the sudden hammering of his heart. “Really?”
The expression on Jak’s face had softened a little more. He nodded, resting their foreheads together. “And now that you know that, what would you have done?” he asked quietly.
“This.” He lifted his head the little bit needed to bring their mouths together. The arms still around his waist tightened and he found his own sweeping over Jak’s broad shoulders to twine around his neck. The frigid cold and dripping wet were forgotten. Haven City and all her problems were forgotten. All that mattered was that Jak was kissing him back and it was even better than he imagined it would feel.
A violent shiver pulled them apart. They fumbled back to dry land, spreading out their clothes to dry before finding a piece of sun all their own. The awkwardness between them had abated, but Jak had yet to actually say anything about his little confession. The silent signs of acceptance were all there—he was close, relaxed, and stretched out on their patch of grass in the same manner he’d stretched out on the sand after a good swim as a child. Even two days ago, that would have been enough. Now, though, Daxter really needed to hear it.
“So where does that leave us?” he asked softly, absently braiding strands of grass together because it gave his hands something to do. He kept his eyes on his work, trying in vain to be patient so that his heart didn’t thump itself right out of his chest. The seconds ticked by without so much as an acknowledgement that something had been said. Telling himself he deserved such treatment after doing the exact same thing to Jak that morning wasn’t enough to keep his heart from sinking.
“I don’t know,” the blond finally said, nearly causing Daxter to jump out of his skin. He stretched and sat up. “Where are we?”
The sarcasm came naturally. “Havin’ a pow-wow about avoidance issues in the middle of nowhere while free-ballin’.” Jak blinked, then cough-laughed himself right back to the ground. Daxter scowled even though he was pleased he’d finally broken the reserved, “fuck-off” attitude so present nowadays. “Yeah, laugh it up, blondie. Graves ain’t ever deep enough ‘round here.”
The chuckles were mostly swallowed, leaving a smile behind that hadn’t been seen since leaving Sandover. Jak pulled him down and kissed him again. The sinking feeling turned into a stuttering flutter so fast, it felt like his heart actually stopped for a second. Damn it, Jak was going to give him a coronary before they even got to the fun stuff at this rate…
“I don’t know, Dax,” he said again when the broke apart, serious once more. “I don’t know a lot of things.”
“Then tell me what ya do know.”
A tentative hand brushed some hair from his eyes before trailing down his cheek. “I know I need you. I know that I can trust you. I know that I never thought about any of this until that night after we snuck into the Palace, and that it still seems a little weird to think like that about you even though I know you think like that about me. I know I liked kissing you, and being able to touch and hold you, and that it really hurt when you didn’t respond this morning. Beyond that…I just don’t know.”
“Sounds like you know plenty to me. Wanna know what I know?” Jak nodded. “I know the reason Torn’s got a stick up his ass is ‘cuz Samos put it there. I know that that Tess girl’s got a great rack, but Ashelin’s got the kinda ass you can bounce credits off of. I know I’m one of the last people on the planet someone wants to get caught in bed with an’ that tellin’ you all this is doin’ bad things to my blood pressure. I know bein’ alone scares the hell outta me an’ I’ll do damn near anythin’ to make sure it doesn’t happen again.
“So now that we both know what we know, do you know if ya want to take the chance? ‘Cuz even if this ends badly like everythin’ else seems to, I meant what I said. I love ya, Jak, an’ I don’t know if I can let that go.”
“I don’t want you to let go. I just don’t know if I can give you what you’re looking for.” Fingers pressed to Daxter’s mouth stopped the next desperate and probably slightly whiney statement. “I want to try. Just…be patient with me.”
“So showin’ yer fingers what my tongue can do to yer dick is probably too fast, right?”
“Daxter!” The yelp was half indignation, half command, and all embarrassment. Jak blushed darkly, the heavy crimson shade flooding his face before overflowing to his ears, neck and chest. The fingers in question twitched, but interestingly enough did not pull away. Daxter grinned, feeling giddy and light-headed, and resisted the urge to do as he said very well if he did think so himself. Teasing was okay. Traumatizing was not. Instead, he kissed Jak’s palm and pulled the hand away to further ignore temptation.
“Sorry,” he said, not feeling as such in the least. Jak didn’t buy the apology either, if the look on his face was anything to go by. Probably had something to do with the cheeky grin Daxter couldn’t quite control. It was hard not to feel reckless now that he knew his feelings were at least accepted, if not somewhat hesitantly returned. He was so busy being warm and fluffy inside, he almost missed the light bulb going off in Jak’s head. “Uh-oh. Now what?”
“Just figured something out.”
“Care to share with the class…?” As soon as he said something, Daxter realized he’d stepped into a trap. As quickly as it had come, the blush was disappearing, revealing a calculating, predatory look. Oh, shit. He knew that look. “Jak…” he warned, tensing. “Don’t do it.”
“Do what?” A person shouldn’t be able to sound innocent when smiling like that.
Survival instincts kicked in. There was no way he was going to walk into that secondary snare voluntarily. Daxter found his feet and bolted, narrowly missing his friend’s lunge. He tripped a bit at the playful but challenging roar that came next as Jak gave chase. Speed and agility counted for a lot when trying to evade an enemy. Given the terrain, it even gave Daxter a better than average advantage. Had his opposition been anyone else, he probably would have gotten away. He was against Jak, however, who made up the difference in skills with stamina, patience, and a freaking jetboard, which was cheating!
When he was finally caught from behind, he somehow managed to keep himself from elbowing Jak in the stomach. When he was lifted from the ground and carried back towards the water, however, he stopped caring about whether or not he hurt the guy he’d just confessed to loving. He struggled, and kicked, and swore, and got absolutely nowhere for the effort. Jak’s arms were iron bands attached to a solid stone frame. He wasn’t going anywhere but wherever Jak directed him.
“You know, Dax,” he murmured softly, causing the redhead to freeze, “you look a little hot. Maybe you should cool down some before we head back.”
“Jak—!” That was as far as he got before he was completely airborne. Displaying every ounce of his ungodly strength, Jak had chucked him effortlessly into the deepest, furthest from shore spot the lake had to offer. For the second time in an hour, Daxter found himself involuntarily under water. He sputtered and flailed against the icy dunking, trying to remember how to breathe and swim at the same time. He glowered at his friend as he numbly pulled himself back onto shore. Jak, the low down, dirty, rotten, cheating bastard waited patiently for him, entirely too smug.
“Prick,” he managed to get out through chattering teeth, snubbing the hand that was offered. “When hell freezes over.”
“Look where we are.”
“…Point taken. But you throw me in that water again an’ yer gonna wake up missin’ pieces.”
“You’d miss those pieces.”
“Not as much as you.”
Jak’s laugh rang free through the air.
***
We watched the fading vapor trails.

It was too glaring and I ran away—I was always weak.

Frustrated that I couldn't stay unchanged since that day,

Couldn't stay unchanged forever,

I let go of your fingers.
~Tori no Uta – Lia~
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To be continued.
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Love is War