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Rule 39	By : grimreaperchibi Category: +G through L > Jak & Daxter Views: 3977 -:- 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.

Chapter List
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A/N: This story is taken over my life. With few exceptions, I have yet to find a problem with this. I will finish Love is War... I will finish Love is War... ...Damn it.
In unrelated news, it's been brought to my attention that there's some confusion about Razer and Phoenix's age in this. There's about a ten year difference in age from their in-game counterparts. Razer is still older than everyone else by a bit, which will be explained later, but yeah. There you go.
Amaronith: *offers more glee*
Robin: I'm sure if you asked, he'd assure you he's already guardian of more than a few monkeys. And he'll never admit to liking it...yet, at least.
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Rule #17: If you start something, stick with it until the end.
There was a thin line between good fortune and dumb luck. Good fortune was all about being in the right place at the right time to take advantage of whatever the situation was offering. Phoenix knew he had a ton of good fortune in his life. It had done a lot to get him to this point. It got him interested in sports, which got him up and moving after transplanting halfway around the world. It had given him a grandfather who always had some tale to tell, and parents that had encouraged him to go out and do, even if it meant getting into trouble. Good fortune was what had him here and now at Haven University, starting down the path to his ultimate goal of flight.
It was most definitely dumb luck, however, that saved his ass from one of the biggest mistakes he’d ever made.
Razer had been right—the garbage bin had been empty, its contents carried off to God only knew where, leaving him with zero chance of recovering anything. What had seemed like such a good idea at the time had finally come back to bite him. To make matters even worse, the jerk garbage men hadn’t even pushed the dumpster back into its proper position, which had the next bundle of garbage that came flying out of the chute bouncing off the side rather than dropping in, nearly nailing him in the process. Quite a bit had already accumulated on the ground. Lazy bastards…
It had been while he was tossing the miscellanea back into the bin that he came across the distinctive blue liner they used in their room. There was certainly a chance that someone else in the building used them too, but dumb luck kicked in. Not only was this bag from their room, but it was also the one that pricey bottle of cologne had been shoved into. Even more miraculous was the fact that it was mostly undamaged. One of the corners was chipped and there was a thin crack along the outside, but it was otherwise whole and unspilled. The bottle of lotion also in there wasn’t so lucky, but remained salvageable. The hair gel, however, was toast, leaving everything around it a gooey mess. It was left behind. He searched the rest of the left-behind garbage, just in case luck decided to strike twice, but that was all he found.
Back in their room, Razer was once more been going through drawers, apparently trying to take inventory of what needed to be replaced. When presented with what had been retrieved, he had stared, green eyes slightly wide and disbelieving as they flickered from Phoenix’s hands to his face and back. Then the corners of his mouth started to curve as some of that cold in his expression melted, leaving behind a smile that was very different from the usual smirk of contempt or frosty politeness. It was probably a sign of the apocalypse or something, but for the first time since they’d met, Razer looked happy. Not satisfied, not content, but honestly happy.
There had to be something wrong with taking that much pride in something so simple. Phoenix felt it swell up like a little bubble in his chest, making him acutely aware of how hard his heart was beating. Razer took the items almost reverently and the places their hands brushed sort of tingled afterward. He was thanked softly…and then was casually reminded he had a game to attend that evening, where Jak had chewed him up one side and down the other for causing such a ruckus next door. At least it had been easy to promise that the rift between himself and Razer had been bridged and that both of them were over the little pet they’d been in since Homecoming.
Especially considering the fact that they hadn’t really talked since then.
Not that the other had turned back into a ghost or something. There just hadn’t been enough time. Razer had disappeared over the weekend as he was known to do, only returning to the dorm late Sunday night. From there, it seemed as if every teacher on campus had conspired to give tests, which had kicked his roommate’s study habits into overdrive. At least they were back to being civil. More than civil, really, given the blatant flirting and teasing that was now constantly thrown at him. On several occasions, it had even lead to someone (aka him) being backed up against a solid surface, kissed breathless and senseless as their hands worked past belt buckles and underwear elastic. It wasn’t as manic as it had been that first time, but it was still hard and unforgiving. Not that Phoenix was complaining, because honestly, they were some of the best hand jobs he’d ever received, but…wasn’t there more to it?
It was driving him to distraction. A week after their first encounter and it was all Phoenix found himself thinking about. The last couple days in particular had left him with a hard-on that never quite went away, mostly because he wouldn’t stop thinking about what else two men could do together. Being a guy himself gave him a bit of insight as to what else might be possible, but in the end, he didn’t have a clue. And while his brain mulled over the possibilities, his pants remained much too tight.
After a long day of paying zero attention to his classes, he found himself trudging back to his room, trying to decide how to approach the situation. According to the rules, it was a commitment-free relationship, sex without strings attached. Razer had made it abundantly clear he had no interest in anything beyond that, but friends with benefits wasn’t anything Phoenix had encountered before, either. In fact, relationships had been rather strictly defined growing up, with an emphasis on the fact that if he was going to fool around with someone, to respect them and himself enough to at least care beyond the bedroom. That meant he wasn’t going to think of his roommate as a sex object. So…how to get what he wanted without crossing that line…?
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone singing coming from his dorm room. That was unusual since Razer wasn’t the type to listen to music, wanting as much quiet as possible to do whatever he was doing. He tolerated Phoenix’s want for sounds other than breathing and pencil scratching, but rarely indulged on his own. Curious, he carefully opened the door. Razer had commandeered the small CD player from Phoenix’s dresser and set it up on his desk. He was leaning back in his chair, arms lightly crossed over his chest and eyes closed, the very tips of his ears bobbing slightly in time to whatever was playing. Relaxed, still, and with that small smile playing on his lips, the other looked…normal. He could have been anyone just enjoying a lazy afternoon
The song came to an end with a rush of clapping that had the speakers hissing static, breaking the moment. Razer reached out to turn it off, leading Phoenix to notice the papers on the desk for the first time. It was actual stationary, heavy and tinted a tan colour to make it look antique, filled with a beautiful, curving script. A Letter. That’s right, they were at the end of the month. Razer always received one around then with an international postmark. Sometime in the next week, he’d send a response, minimum three pages of neat, almost spidery handwriting and sealed with wax before it found its way into a more contemporary envelope. A slightly bizarre means of communication, given the other man owned both a laptop and a cell phone. It was the only piece of mail Razer seemed to receive and it always seemed to make him as content as he ever was. Phoenix had never really given it that much thought, but now he was curious. Who did it come from, that it would make that much of an impact on someone who tried so hard to be unaffected?
A question for another time and place. He kicked the door closed in what he hoped was a plausible attempt to cover the fact he’d been standing there for a while and continued in. Razer replaced the music player where he’d found it without comment before returning to his desk. The Letter and CD were carefully replaced into the envelope they came from and tucked safely into a drawer. A book was picked up as he returned to his seat, leaving Phoenix to stand around awkwardly, debating approaches and whether or not he should do so at all. A couple of minutes of uncomfortable silence later, Razer finally said, “If you have something to say, get it out and be done with it already. Quit fidgeting.”
“That’s not all there is to it, right?” That wasn’t really what he’d meant to say, but the words were out now, gadding about to proclaim his ignorance. Razer, however, hadn’t even looked up from his reading, so Phoenix went with it. “I mean, there wouldn’t be a whole genre in the adult industry if it was all hand jobs. Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” he amended quickly. “I just—”
“Don’t know any better?” Razer supplied blandly. “Let me guess, the closest you’ve ever come to doing anything with another man was a circle jerk with a few friends to a badly copied 70’s porno someone nicked from an older brother.” A page was idly flipped. “Alcohol and a challenge were involved, and the house was empty for the weekend. No one touched anyone else. No one ever spoke of it again.”
Well, that was mostly true. Except that it had been the older brother supplying the beer, porn, and challenge rather than any of his friends. The film had indeed been a copy of a copy of a copy and he’d spent more time covertly watching the others than the television. They’d done so four or five times, actually, and it had turned into something of a joke since “getting off at Randy’s” was a legitimate statement to make. There was a bus stop just outside his house.
“Something like that,” he admitted, feeling slightly embarrassed for it.
“…And if I say there is nothing else?” There was something funny about Razer’s voice when he said that. His eyes were still glued to the book, but the corners of his mouth were twitching. It didn’t take much to conclude he was trying to not smile, and then suddenly the weird tone made sense.
“You bloody toffer. How long were you going to lead me on?”
“Until you figured it out, of course.” The smirk that came out was arrogant and a touch malicious as the book was finally dropped to the desk. “I suffered for a while. You can stand to suffer a little as well.” He leaned back in his chair. “Besides, I’m not interested in weak personalities. If I wanted someone who’d just roll over to whatever whim I had, I would have pursued the red haired stick next door.”
“Daxter?” That thought created some interesting visuals he could have lived very happily without ever seeing.
Razer’s look turned sharp and assessing for a couple seconds. “Yes,” he replied, strangely serious and pointedly looking back down at his desk. “I am not an easy man to be with. I have seen what happens when someone like me becomes involved with someone like him. Domestic abuse is usually the tip of the proverbial iceberg.” He waved a hand through the air as if to dispel the suddenly heavy tension drifting around them. “The point is that I’m not the only one involved in this arrangement. If you have questions or concerns, you must voice them, and endure the possible teasing that comes from poorly thought out remarks.”
“Then answer the question.”
“Come now,” he admonished with a haughty tone. “You’re a smart boy. Surely you can figure it out on your own.”
Oh, so he wanted to be a prick about it? Okay, fine. Phoenix could be a prick back. “I’ve got the base logistics, but I’m just curious if I should find a bird who can, you know, fill in the gaps.”
That certainly took the wind out of the other’s sail. Ears tilted regally as his head lifted in a practiced gesture of ruffled dignity. “I assure you, I can do anything a woman can, several she can’t, and all without any of the complaints.” Razer rose gracefully from the chair, practically flowing across the room. There was no hesitation or pretense as one warm body sidled up to another, pressing just right to let it be known how hard both of them were. Razer leaned in close with an infuriatingly overconfident twist to his lips, making the look sexy enough that the breath caught in Phoenix’s lungs. The hands sliding almost possessively around his waist, across his back, deftly groping his ass didn’t make breathing any easier.
“Tell me what you want,” Razer said, voice hot and liquid, the words melting against rapidly flushing skin as almost delicate lips brushed over his throat. “Tell me what I should do to you first. What will make you scream. What will destroy that antiquated notion a woman has any idea how to really pleasure a man…”
The evil things that mouth and tongue were doing to his neck was almost enough to make the demand a moot point. He would have agreed to anything, so long as that hot pressure kept up, effectively turning him to jelly. “Everything,” Phoenix finally gasped. “I want everything you can give me.”
“Everything takes time,” was the almost calm reply. “Time to prepare. Time to do. Time to recover.” A wet tongue pressed against an already pounding pulse point as hands found their way under his shirt. “As admirable as the ambition is, everything will come with time.” Teeth caught, nipping just hard enough to be uncomfortable as a protest started to find a voice. “Make no mistake, I will do everything to you,” Razer mumbled heatedly, licking the mark he’d left before one hand slid up to pull the hair tie free and tilt Phoenix’s head down. “Let’s make sure you can keep up first, though.”
And then Razer was kissing him like it was the only act that mattered in the world. At that moment, it really was. Grades, class, practice…even the background noise that fed his obsession with flying gave way to the demand for absolute attention those lips were making. The most assertive kiss he’d received from a girlfriend seemed pale and uninterested by comparison. Maybe that was because he wasn’t the dominant party trying to coax out a response, or maybe that was just because he was kissing Razer, who showed no hesitation and gave no ground. That by no means meant Phoenix didn’t make him work for it, though. He pushed back as best he could, sometimes awkward and self-conscious, but never letting himself stop and therefore be consumed by what Razer was doing.
Which, all things considered, wasn’t that much. There was the hand buried in his hair, absently stroking as it held his head in place. The other hand had begun lightly kneading across the small of his back, sometimes caressing higher or lower, but always keeping them firmly pressed against each other. They were rocking against one another in such a subtle way that it was barely noticeable, following the equally subtle ebb and flow of their kiss. For as hard and unforgiving as their lip lock was, it wasn’t just force being applied. Razer was certainly taking, but nothing Phoenix wasn’t already giving, making the experience intense and heady.
The kiss broke with a gasp, the sudden ache in his lungs reminding him breathing was still required. The hand supporting his head pulled away and Phoenix found he didn’t have the strength to keep it up alone. A shock ran down his spine as the mouth that had so recently been attached to his own reconnected with his completely exposed throat, reminding him how badly aroused he always was. He whined a little, then moaned at the deliberate roll of Razer’s hips against his own. From that point on, all his concentration went to keeping his legs under him.
Despite being given full control of the situation, Razer never deviated from the slow, almost torturous progression he’d chosen. As lips, teeth, and tongue continued to mark, soothe and excite as they moved along his neck, warm hands wandered across his back and stomach, gentle and easy as if he was handling something fragile. Fingers traced muscle definition while palms skimmed over smooth skin, always moving even as they slowly picked apart the clothing that kept them separated. His over shirt had been lost when he walked in and those skillful hands were slowly hiking the one under it up. The assault only let up as long as it took to finally pull the garment over his head. Then the treatment his neck had received started on his chest. A scattering of kisses followed by the scrapping of teeth along his collarbones, the sternum, felt strangely good when a hot tongue laved over the same spot seconds later. Phoenix found his back arching as the ever-moving hands started to dig in, blunt nails scraping across his skin, a counterpoint to what Razer was doing with his mouth.
Finally, yet all too soon, hot breath and wet lips were moving across his stomach, so close and too far away from what really wanted all that wonderful attention. Something close to sense came rushing back when the hands that had hereto been touching everywhere all at once locked onto his hips, pushing. At that point, all he could do was go where Razer directed him, which left his overheated back pressed one of the support posts for the beds. Then those hands were working at the rest of his clothes, touching everything as they picked and pulled at his pants and boxers without even so much as an accidental brush against his painfully hard erection. It was only after the last of his clothes had been kicked away, leaving him dressed in only his necklace and his pride, that one of those teasing, unrelenting, and oh-so-warm hands at last closed around his aching cock, giving it a firm squeeze that had him moaning roughly with want.
“Can you stay standing? Or do you need to sit?” The smug, husky purr was a challenge, no matter how innocently or sincerely the question was asked. Phoenix opened dazed eyes to find himself once more face to face with Razer. There was a flush starting to creep along the other’s ears and his lips were pink and shiny. What really caught his attention, however, was how bright those green eyes had become, intense and piercing and so much more alive than he remembered seeing them ever. A slow, hard pull by the hand wrapped around him broke the trance with another groan. “Well?” That question was all arrogance, which put some steel back into his legs and spine.
“I can stand.” His voice was too light for it to sound threatening, and that twisted yet sexy smirk told him Razer knew it was mostly a bluff, but he wasn’t challenged further. Instead, there was another slow pump of his cock that left him almost taking the words back and then he was released. Even before he was two steps away, Razer was systematically peeling out of his own clothes. Shirt, undershirt, shoes, pants, boxer briefs—he was out of them all in what had to be record time. Now that his thoughts weren’t clouded over quite so badly, Phoenix took a moment to actually look at his roommate.
At first glance, there wasn’t much. Thin, trim, with an ungodly sense of presence that came from the subtle, simple elegance he moved with. Sleek muscle rippled under flawless pale skin…except for a very discoloured patch along his lower back that was bigger than the size of a fifty pence piece, slightly sunken in from the surrounding skin and vaguely round in shape. Phoenix was still debating birthmark versus scar when Razer turned, showing a much uglier version on his stomach in roughly the same place as the one on his back. Same discolouration, but bigger and more jagged, like the edges had been torn open. Definitely a scar, then.
He blinked as music started up, something symphonic that was turned up a touch too loud for common courtesy. A quick rummage through a dresser drawer and then Razer was back beside him, warm skin to warm skin, reprising his earlier efforts. Still almost methodical in his execution, but also more urgent. In almost no time, Phoenix was panting again, as if there hadn’t been a break in activity at all. He watched with anticipation, embarrassment, curiosity, and no small amount of wonder as the kisses and licks trailed lower than before, leaving Razer ultimately on his knees before him. Something thrilling and a little bit afraid wrapped around his spine as the foil was ripped open with teeth. He’d never thought of the act of putting on a condom as something erotic, but Razer excelled at it, using the slow pump of both hands to roll it down the now throbbing length. Once it was on completely, those hands possessively swept across his hips, stomach, and thighs again.
Their eyes caught for a couple seconds. Then, without blinking or looking away, Razer’s tongue slipped out, sliding firmly over the head of the cock in front of him before taking the whole thing into his mouth.
It was torture and it was bliss, trapped in that vivid green stare as he watched his roommate slowly go down on him. The music playing made itself useful, smothering the rough groan with clashing cymbals and soaring violins when Razer had finally taken everything there was to take. There had never been a girlfriend who could do that before, but the thought was barely noted. His attention was already too split to carry anything else. Half of him remained focused on keeping his legs from buckling while the rest of him tried to keep up with the influx of sensation. The former was helped somewhat by steadying hands in his hips, that secure grip somehow translating to stability in his knees. The latter was completely unimpeded by the layer of latex. It wasn’t even there, for as much as he could feel it. But neither could he hear the music he knew was playing or see the room beyond himself. All there was was an intimate awareness of how hot and wet Razer’s mouth was, every flick of that tongue trying to wrap around him, the faint scrape of teeth and the tight seal of lips all along his shaft.
Just as it had been with everything else, there was no hurry to the action, like Razer could spend all day doing nothing else. Phoenix shuddered at the thought, that knot of arousal tighten up even more in his lower stomach. Distracted as he was, he didn’t notice the hands on his hips shifting until he felt fingers drifting along the curve of his ass in time to the pull of the mouth around him. Pretty soon, fingertips were brushing deliberately across places only his own fingers had ever touched. Never anything hard or penetrative, but more than enough to make him take notice. It should have felt weird, and in a way, it did. But it also felt really good, each press making the tension more unbearable. He didn’t know how much more he could take.
Thankfully, it seemed like Razer was in the same position. The other otherwise unoccupied hand had found its way to Razer’s own rather neglected erection. Dear God, that was hot, watching him jerk off while he sucked and swallowed around another hard cock, eyes closed in concentration and pleasure. Without thinking, Phoenix reached down, fingers threading through already mussed coal black hair. Razer looked up, cheeks flushed and eyes dark with lust. Phoenix opened his mouth to say something, but the words got caught somewhere between his brain and his lips.
Those words were apparently not needed. With one last languid lick, Razer pulled back and returned to his feet, pressing flush once more. One hand continued its groping while the other wrapped around both heavy erections. The taste of mint was powerful as their mouths met again, that strong hand pumping hard and fast. Phoenix jerked as the tension in his body abruptly snapped, his choked cry further swallowed by the lips pressed against his own. Nails dug into skin, fingers tightened in hair as an almost painful type of pleasure ripped through him, never diminishing by much until Razer came himself with a snarl.
For a while after, it was all Phoenix could do to exist. He couldn’t feel much of anything at the moment. Not his feet, or legs, or hands—just the wild thump of his heart and the burn of lungs not getting enough air. He was vaguely aware of something soft pressing against his temple, his jaw as he was being directed somewhere, but the lack of oxygen was starting to make him dizzy, so it was hard to tell.
“Breathe.” The gentle command was accompanied by warm breath being blown into his face in a soft and slow manner. He choked a bit on the air before reflex kicked in, forcing him to take a much deeper breath. More soothing words he couldn’t understand. Another controlled rush of air into his face, another full inhalation drawn, and finally, the ache in his chest and the pounding behind his eyes eased. Still couldn’t tell if he was standing or not, and Phoenix decided he didn’t care. He was warm, comfortable, and more sated than he’d felt in a long time. Why screw up such a great sense of peace with things that ultimately didn’t matter?
“Did I kill it?” The tone was amused, yet also carried enough worry that Phoenix opened his eyes. He found himself staring at the underside of a bed. He blinked a couple of times before understanding came—he was sprawled out over the lower bunk. Razer’s bed. With said owner laying next to him, head propped up on his fist as he looked on with a semi-detached curiosity. It was kind of sad to see all that light and passion already fading from his roommate’s face. He looked so much better like that than like this… Phoenix might not have known how to stop the mask of indifference from falling back into place, but he gave it a shot anyway.
He grinned. “I have toes.”
There was a moment of shock at the completely unorthodox response. Then a sort of wry smile took hold as Razer did his version of an eye roll. “Indeed. I would hope you have toes. Otherwise, your days as a running back would be numbered.” A bit of tension eased from his body as he shifted closer, close enough to share body heat as the room began to cool, seemingly content to share the quiet around them.
They laid there together for a while, lazy and content. A couple of times, Phoenix caught the other man playing with the tips of his hair, curling it around his fingers only to smooth it out again, the far-off looking in his eyes showing his mind was clearly elsewhere. Eventually, the slimy, yucky feeling inherent with used condoms became too much to ignore. There was only a little bit of a wobble in his knees when Phoenix regained his feet. Once he was cleaned up, he was actually inclined to return to the bed. Razer, however, had already followed him and was redressing. That was a tad disappointing, though for the life of him, Phoenix couldn’t really say why.
“Don’t look like such a kicked puppy,” the other chided. “I’m not abandoning you in a cardboard box on some street corner. I’m stepping out for a cigarette.” He paused as he pulled on his shirt. “Unless you liked it when I was a raging jackass for no legitimate reason.”
Phoenix blanched. “Uh, no. Thanks all the same.” Razer gave a little shrug, which translated to ‘Well there you have it,’ and grabbed the lighter and cigarettes from his jacket. He was just starting to turn the doorknob when Phoenix asked, “So did I manage to keep up?”
Razer turned, his hand still on the partially opened door. There was a deliberate rake of his eyes down and back up Phoenix’s still very undressed body, with an equally deliberate lick of his lips when those eyes hesitated a second about half way each direction. Their gazes matched and held for another breath as a teasing, almost playful and very devious smirk unfurled, making all sorts of promises that had Phoenix blushing despite himself. And then the other exchange student was out the door, which closed behind him with a soft click.
***
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To be continued.
- 3
- 4
- 5
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Rule 39