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. |
A/N: Two things of note for this chapter. The first is that Daxter's driving is exactly like my driving in-game. I never switch zones when I hop on a zoomer unless I have to fire at a transport or something. And I always end up running over a Guard somewhere between here and there. The second is that there is an alternative track for this chapter. I chose this one because I like the lyrics and sound better for the chapter as a whole, but Underwater by Delerium is what got me through the end scene. And yes, I know there's an English version of this Oomph! song (Burning Desire), but I like the way it comes across in German better. Either works, though.
Amaronith: Jak as Solo... I can see that. And Dark Dax as Chewy! Okay, disturbed myself now, moving on. And no, you're not crazy. Just for the record. Robin: I guess you're forgiven. And I'm glad I can give you warm squishies. Hopefully I can keep up with the hotness. 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. ------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 5 – Brennende Liebe (Oomph!) “Aw, yeah! That’s what I’m talking about!” “You did it, Jak!” The secondary line confused him, as did the body Jak suddenly found himself holding. There were curves and weight that didn’t belong, pressing oddly against him and throwing off the alignment he was used to. The form was too warm, too, and smelled like machine oil…and why was he staring at the person he should be holding? Keira almost immediately bounced back out of his arms, blushing and smiling at him in what was probably described as a demure fashion. Something about it just scraped at his temper. He was happy to see her alive and safe, or at least as safe as anyone was safe in Haven, he really was. But the absolute aversion to her touch that rolled through his stomach was almost enough to make him growl when she reached out to take his hand. He clenched his jaw instead and turned just enough so that her aim would miss. She frowned when she noticed how deliberate the act had been. “Jak, you won,” she said patiently, like that would explain everything. “There’s a bunch of papers that have to be signed and stamped to officiate, not to mention all the paperwork we need to go through to get you recognized as part of my team. The sooner you get that done, the sooner we can go out and celebrate.” It wasn’t often that the “Bad Idea” alarm went off in his head, but right now, it was screaming louder than the crowd had when he’d crossed the finish line. Jak shifted back another step. “Can’t you take care of it?” Something dark flitted across her face. “Jak—” “The less publicity he gets right now, the better,” Daxter interrupted. The look Keira gave him clearly stated she thought otherwise. Unfazed, the redhead stepped closer and dropped his voice. “We run high-risk missions for the Underground. You heard ‘bout those Hellcats last week, right? Who do ya think got sent out to destroy ‘em?” Her eyes went wide. She glanced back to Jak, who nodded curtly, irked that she was looking for secondary confirmation. “The less time he spends in any sorta light, the better it is for everyone. Or do ya wanna bring the KG down on all our heads?” Her mouth opened, but closed again without making much noise. She glanced between the two of them again. “All right, but what am I supposed to put down for names?” “Orange Lightinin’ an’…” Daxter grinned. “Evil Widgit.” “Daxter, be serious,” Jak growled. “I’m dead-flashin’ serious.” “You call the kid that!” “An’ a part of our job description is protectin’ him, right? This is just a roundabout way of doin’ that. People’ll hear that name an’ think of you, an’ brother, no one wants to mess ‘round with you!” Except you, Jak thought in exasperation. You love messing around with me. “No,” he said firmly, turning his attention to Keira, who was now looking at them strangely. “Just put down our real names. Make up whatever information you need after that. We’ll take the bike back to the garage and meet you there.” She hesitated a second longer than she probably should have. “Okay. Whatever you say.” She grabbed a handful of papers from the pit desk before walking away in a manner just a hair shy of stalking. They watched her leave in silence. As soon as she was out of sight, Daxter turned solemnly to him. “Well, holy damn, Jak. I’m impressed. Five laps ‘round an enclosed track at high speed an’ the bike’s still in one piece. How come you can never manage that when we’re out on the town?” “Shut it, smart ass. At least I drive in the right zone,” Jak shot back, already turning to the task of getting said bike back to its rightful resting place. “You can’t get from one district to another without running someone over.” Usually one of the Krimzon Guard—something he prided himself on. “Hey! If they can’t get their lazy asses’ outta the way for a zoomer roarin’ up from behind, they deserve to get flattened.” Daxter stopped, frowning at the bike. “Oops. Spoke too soon. Ya almost tore the undercarriage free…” Jak reached over and swatted the back of his friend’s head. He got a sassy grin in return. The matter now firmly settled, they started on the task at hand. The routine was so familiar now, they automatically took their places—Daxter in the lead, picking out the best path forward while Jak’s strength pushed and supported from behind. They may have argued about those positions from time to time, mostly because being in the lead meant the redhead was always the one who was attacked and hurt first, but there was no denying the fact Dax had a memory designed for dungeon crawling. He navigated the tangle of corridors under the Stadium like he’d been doing so for years. Jak didn’t think he could find a way out without going gray from age first. They found the lift back to the garage proper without incident and hoisted their cargo back into its holding rig. The doors were still all closed up, meaning Keira hadn’t finished what she was doing and returned yet. Just as well, probably. He really didn’t need her temper scraping against his right now, not with that much adrenaline still pumping through his system. That was a fight for another day. Today had been a wild enough ride, in more ways than one. It had been bound to happen at some point. One of them forced off to the side to wait and watch while the other went and did something reckless. They may have seen themselves as an inseparable unit, but they were still two individuals according to the rules. As much as Jak loved screwing those rules over when given half a chance, this once, they had been immutable. One racer per team. One person per vehicle. One of them had to stay behind in order to go forward. It was a hard decision made harder because Jak still remembered that wounded, angry look Daxter had carried after their argument in the Power Station, the way he’d pushed on with an almost suicidal grudge against anything standing in front of him, like he had to prove over and over again that he could pull more than his own weight. The sarcasm and scathing witticism had still been there, but they had been defensive gestures, guards against something Jak still didn’t quite understand. And then the redheaded idiot had climbed outside the turret cage with the morph gun, out in the open without any protection, where a decently strong wind might suck him into oblivion, not to mention what one of those Flightsuit guns could have done to him… Jak had been almost sick with relief when the tanker finally went down and he looked up to see Daxter still as manic and mouthy as ever, crowing over the victory. It had had to stop, for no better reason then his nerves couldn’t take the stress. And while putting a stop to it, he’d realized just how much his best friend hid away from him. Or maybe it was how much he’d been rather willfully blind to. The boy he’d grown up with, the one who had run away the day Erol and the KG had come and shattered both their lives, didn’t exist anymore. There was still a fear in Daxter that sometimes got the better of him, a tongue sharp enough to draw blood if he chose to wield it, but everything else had hardened, solidified. He bore some very deep, damning scars just like Jak did…they just weren’t as visible. And Daxter went out of his way to make sure they were rarely exposed. Which was why he’d backed down without so much as a snarky comment, letting Jak play jockey when they’d been confronted by the decision. He was covering up one of those internal wounds, the blond knew it. He was even reasonably certain the subtle withdraw was because the frigid mechanic they’d been sent to deal with again had turned out to be Keira. What he didn’t understand was it bothered him so much to see his friend give up so quickly. No…he knew that too. It was because something had shifted inside the redhead since that night in the shower. Something had reformed, becoming complete. There was a light to Daxter now, a contentment that extended beyond whenever they were fooling around, pretending the rest of the world didn’t exist. It was a bright and shining thing to Jak, drawing him in, making him hungry for things he still rarely thought about. Seduction and sex had literally been the last things on his mind when he’d made the decision to walk into the bathroom. He’d just wanted to prove to himself what he already half knew—touching and being touched by Daxter was a good thing. It wasn’t a good thing, it was an amazing thing, and he felt particularly stupid for putting it off for as long as he had. How had his friend managed to remain sane all those times he’d pulled back, able to feel how hot and hard Daxter was becoming just by kissing and embarrassed because his body was responding in kind? A part of him realized that was rather the point of it all, but he hadn’t known what to do with what he was feeling. Nothing was ever said, he was never pushed, so Jak had thought everything was okay. Something else he’d turned a blind eye to. Watching Daxter become aroused through such simple touches, seeing him hurt physically as well as emotionally, and yet hold himself back from what he obviously wanted so desperately… It had done more than open his eyes. And seeing that control snap, feeling that deceptively strong body writhe against his, demanding and taking and then that throbbing but momentary pain in his neck right before a completely different wet warmth covered his hand and stomach… He groaned quietly in frustration, body tightening at just the memory. Now was not the time or the place. Despite having wandered nearly to the other side of the garage, Daxter instantly perked up. “You okay, buddy?” It sounded like the question was asked right into his ear. Jak reached under his scarf and pulled the tiny communicator bud out. Ah, something safe to turn his thoughts to. “I’m fine. Hey, where did you get these?” “Vin. Thought it might cut down on the screamin’ we do to get coordinated.” “Or tell me how to cheat on the course without anyone noticing.” “Hey! The rulebook clearly stated that as long as it stayed on the track, it was all legal. Wasn’t cheatin’, it was creative drivin’. Ya coulda said no.” And risked losing? Not even an option. “How’d you know it’d work?” “Didn’t,” was the flippant reply. “It was just the only place to try. Good line up if ya could get outta the pack an’ boost-jump at the right time. I’m wholly surprised ya didn’t crash an’ burn like that idiot that followed you over in the third lap.” So that’s what that explosion had been— “Wait. You didn’t even think it would work and told me to do it anyway?” Daxter gave him a saucy smirk as he hoisted himself up on one of the empty lifts. “Well, excuse me fer thinkin’ a tough guy like you could take a little bump an’ grind fer the team…” Oh, that was it. He’d show that smug redhead a thing or two about bumping and grinding on a track… He didn’t get more than a few steps before the whir of machinery signaled the garage doors opening and Keira’s return. He halted where he was, watching as she entered, looking harried but happy. “Any problems?” he asked. “Surprisingly enough, no. Everyone loves the idea of a faceless hero right now, but I don’t think you’ll be able to get out of it next time.” She dropped her load onto a nearby table, including the heavy looking trophy. “I do need a couple signatures, though.” “Got it covered!” Daxter announced, hopping down. “Krew’s signature’s a sloppy as the rest of him. Shouldn’t be that hard to forge.” “Why would you need—” Keira didn’t get the whole question out before Ashelin walked in. As nice as it was to finally be thanked for helping with the tanker incident in the bazaar, watching the two women circle and spit at each other like two caterfly queens was about as amusing as a punch to the face and twice as difficult to let slide. The annoyance level only grew when Daxter’s unsolicited sound effects started. At least the two they were directed at seemed more focused on bristling than actually listening. He opened his mouth once and that was a mistake he was never going to make again. Damn it, no wonder Daxter had been so interested in paperwork. The discomfort didn’t end when Ashelin left, either. Keira glared at him before really stalking away, presumably pissed off because of Daxter’s “pinning medals” comment. He grabbed his erring friend a little harder than he really meant to and forcefully directed him back outside with a growled, “We’re leaving.” Keira didn’t try to stop them. Somehow that left Jak feeling more relieved than upset. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded once they were clear of the Stadium. Daxter shook free from his grip. “She’s bein’ a petty bitch,” he spat back. “She hates us, she loves us, she hates again…its bullshit! Ya don’t get to change yer mind every three seconds. She wants to play the wounded party, then I’ll give her somethin’ to be bleedin’ over.” He took a few more steps and paused. “Fuck, now I’m bein’ the bitch.” That little slump in his ears mirrored the one Jak had see when Keira had landed in his arms after walking off the track. The same slump had been present in some form all day, now that he thought about it. Ever since Keira had stepped out from behind the curtain pretty much, which meant he was right about the cause of the bizarre attitude, but he still didn’t have the why. “What’s going on, Dax?” “Nothin’. I’m bein’ stupid again.” “You’re not stupid. We’ve had that discussion already, we won’t have it again. Now tell me what’s really bothering you.” “She…” He started chewing on his lip, a sure sign of distress. Jak was half worried he’d bloody it before responding. “She touched you,” he finally admitted quietly. Jak frowned. “Touched me…?” The defenses instantly snapped up. “Yeah, touched you,” Daxter said hotly. “Stupid, ain’t it?” He turned and started walking away. “Just forget—” “No.” There was no way this was going to be a repeat performance of their last argument. He grabbed Daxter again (there was probably going to be a bruise at this rate) and hauled the other back to his side. “Stop walking away from me when you’re upset. I can’t fix it if you won’t tell me what’s wrong.” “I did.” “Then try again because I obviously don’t understand. You can read me like a book without ever hearing a word, but you have to speak in order for me to figure it out. Talk to me, Dax. Not at me or around me, to me.” Daxter stared at him, mouth opening and closing several times before nodding weakly. “Fine. We’ll talk back at the safe house. Unless, of course, you wanna advertize our marital problems to the world,” he said when Jak started to protest. A quick glance around showed they were indeed starting to attract unwanted attention. Jak nodded and let go, willing to bide his time. The walk to their current residence wasn’t far or long. They hadn’t really moved much in a while. It was kind of surprising how well they had both taken to crashing in the same spot every night, how quickly their routines had changed. The click of a lock sliding into place now eased the tension rather than inducing it in Jak. Daxter had stopped trying to carry their whole world wherever they went. They laid down when they slept and both of them had started sleeping through the majority of the hours set aside for such activity. And then there was the quiet wonder of forgetting the outside world all together in favor of the one where it was just the two of them… Daxter didn’t stop moving once they were inside. He paced along the wall opposite the bed, once again chewing on his lip. Jak let him make a full circuit a couple of times before reaching out once more, deliberately gentle as he tried to bring his friend’s attention into focus. “Dax…” “She touched you, Jak,” he whined, tensing up. “She threw her arms around yer neck and ya held her. I don’t know how to say that any differently.” He pulled free and started pacing again. “Barely twenty minutes of face time and she can do that… You almost broke my arm the first time I tried. Ya got over it fast, but still… I mean, I can’t really blame ya. You and she were a thing long before my head got messed up, so it makes sense you’d wanna,” he seemed to choke on his words, “wanna try again with the person yer supposed ta be with, someone who’s got all the right parts an’—” “I don’t want her to touch me.” The growled statement was enough to still Daxter completely. “It felt wrong,” Jak continued. “She didn’t smell right. I didn’t like it.” Carefully, he folded himself around his friend, nuzzling his temple. “This is what I want, what I like,” he breathed into a madly flickering ear. “This fits and feels good. Nothing about holding Keira did that. Just you.” “B-but you—” “I thought I was catching you. I didn’t even notice she was there until after she’d already pulled away. And then all she did was irritate me.” He hugged Daxter a little tighter. “And for the record, I didn’t know it was you that first time. I’d been strapped to that table for hours while they tried to force their experiment to work. I remember vague images and piece of conversation, but nothing…nothing that seemed real until I realized the voice I kept hearing was coming from you, and not just in my head.” Slowly, the other relaxed, quietly taking the words in. Jak turned from nuzzling to whispering kisses, the barest brush of lips over freckled skin. He worked his way down Daxter’s cheek and behind his ear, letting his nose bury in hair he swore he could still smell the ocean in. It was impossible, of course. The water in the city was as metallic as everything else, if not blatantly just disgusting like the port or the wretched community called the water slums, oily, stagnant and barely able to be referred to as water anymore. Even outside the Walls at the Pumping Station, where he knew it was ocean spray on the wind, all he could smell was grease and hot metal. Whether the ocean scent was really there or he was just losing his mind, it really only affirmed he was right where he was supposed to be. His coaxing was finally rewarded with a sigh of surrender. “Are ya sure?” Daxter asked softly. “I could…if you wanna try again with her, I could…” “Did you listen to anything I just said?” “I heard that you didn’t like it, but ya still accepted her unconsciously. That means sooner or later, she’s gonna be able to do everythin’ I can. Maybe…maybe more than I can…” There were tears gathering in his eyes now. “If she’s what you need, I’m not gonna stand in the way. I just wanna know now if the next time we walk in there, I’m leavin’ alone.” Alone… There was an almost audible click as everything fell into place. Jak felt something twist and knot in his stomach. That was it, the nearly irrational fear that drove Daxter to such extreme lengths, a trauma that wasn’t so much a scar as it was a constantly seeping wound that had grown so large and deep it could no longer heal by itself. He’d said it before, said it so many times in fact that Jak felt even worse now that he recognized how much went into that one tiny, little word. He had been told what the problem was…and he hadn’t listened at all. But there was nothing he could say to stem the emotional pain, nothing that wouldn’t be a hollow repeat at this point. That was almost okay; he didn’t seem to be doing so well with words anyway. Instead, he pulled Daxter around and kissed him, trying to convey though action what he was failing to articulate. The effect was almost instantaneous. Thin arms wrapped around his neck, bringing them flush in a way that felt natural. Fingers tugged at his hair while the body he was holding leaned in even further, resting in such a way Daxter was almost completely dependent upon him for support. That little arch in the redhead’s spine demanded to be touched and one of Jak’s hands moved to comply, the other spreading over his friend’s lower back to offer support. With a mewl, the mouth that had been so desperate against his pulled away. “Jak—” “I’m not going to leave you.” The words tumbled out between the kisses trailed along Daxter’s jaw, earning a fluttering gasp as he went. The last of his sentence left Jak gently nipping at a flushed ear. “I can stand her,” he breathed, letting his tongue follow the edge up, “I want you.” The statement was punctuated by crushing their mouths together again. This time, the slighter form collapsed fully against him. Even the need to breathe wasn’t enough to pull him away completely after that. He kept pressing small kisses to whatever was in reach, letting his hands stroke and touch as they pleased. Slowly, the whimpers and shudders of distress were replaced with ones of pleasure. Daxter relaxed even as he began to tense in an all-together different way, their almost frantic exchange of kisses slowing back to the languid explorations that marked most of their intimate moments. But even then, he could feel the redhead starting his subtle shift away, holding himself back despite the desire to continue forward. The hands that had been carding through his hair seized up. The once supple spine stiffened. The deep moans turned breathless, quieted behind clenched teeth. Jak solved that particular problem with a throat-swabbing kiss reminiscent of the one that had lead to their tryst in the shower. “Why do you do that?” he asked when they broke apart, breathing hard. “You love me, but you keep holding back…” “I’m tryin’ to be nice,” Daxter panted back, swaying slightly on his feet. “Yer the one who keeps sayin’ he doesn’t know.” “How am I supposed to know if you don’t show me what’s possible?” Daxter’s eyes widened as he gave Jak a serious look. A bit of his flush deepened in embarrassment. “I don’t think like this… I don’t know…” He groaned in frustration and need, once again pulling Daxter in for a demanding kiss, hoping his friend could read between the lines like he usually did. Was this how the redhead felt every time they’d stopped before? Damn, he needed his ass kicked. “You sure?” The question was just a formality if the hands divesting him of his belt were any indication. “I don’t wanna push ya further than yer comfortable…” “Push me, Dax,” Jak growled, only half aware his own hands were following by example. “Push as hard as you want and let me decide if it’s too far.” A push was exactly what Daxter gave him—hard enough to knock him back a couple of steps. Dumbfounded by what had just happened, Jak only stared as his friend closed the distance between them and gave him another solid shove. This time, the blond stumbled a bit, landing hard in one of the straight-backed chairs they never used. The wood squeaked a bit in protest, rocking back up on two legs before settling with a jarring thud. It was enough to knock some sense back into his head. The reprimand was quietly swallowed when he got a good look at the predatory expression on Daxter’s face, belatedly realizing what he may have just gotten himself into. In one step, goggles and gloves came off. Two more saw the redhead tossing aside his shirt and his belt pouches hitting the floor. By the time he slid smoothly into Jak’s lap, straddling both him and the chair, the only thing Daxter was left wearing was his underwear, which somehow seemed to be less than actually going naked. Jak’s arms automatically locked around his friend’s waist as he settled in to more easily accommodate the added weight. Based on the rapid approach, Jak had been expecting the encounter to play out like their night in the shower had; hot, hard, and fast, with bruised lips and random scratches to tell the tale in the morning. And though the mouth attached to his was by no means gentle, nor were the hands that seemed to be touching everything all at once anything close to slow, it all lacked the almost suffocating desperation from their previous attempt. Efficient and clever fingers worked their magic, removing obstacles with the skill of a master pickpocket before trailing over newly claimed territory. They whispered though hair, relieving him of his own goggles while gently massaging along his scalp, tracing around his ears, pumping them slowly as hips unconsciously rocked forward. Once, twice, drawing out each movement to the fullest, and then those fingertips were trailing over his jaw, down his exposed throat, his scarf suddenly missing in action. They tapped at his throbbing pulse to acknowledge how hard his heart was beating before sliding down further. Then the fingers fanned out, following the juncture of his neck and shoulder around, only to pull back what a light scratching of nails, grazing a spot that sent a jolt through his system. Palms pressed into his chest, stroking and petting while picking at the straps of his eco harness, the metal and leather clunking heavily to the floor after only a few short minutes. Then those devious hands began exploring with an almost possessive touch, warm and slightly rough as they pulled against the fabric still in the way. Over his shoulders, down his arms, back up to smooth over his chest, curl around his ribs, skimming down his sides before ghosting over his stomach on the way to repeat the pattern until it became too much. Or too little. Jak couldn’t really think right then, caught between the artful process of being undressed and the deep, hungry kiss that had yet to truly break. All he knew was that he wanted, Daxter was giving, and that anything that impeded the process was going to die in a painful, messy way. So when the teasing stopped and the torturous fingers slipped under his shirt, Jak was more than willing to help shed the unwanted article of clothing. There was a bit of a struggle, trying to get rid of it and his gloves without dumping his partner on the floor, but the brief break in contact only made him want more. This time, he gave back as good as he got, following Daxter’s tease and retreat tactic when their kiss resumed, hands kneading at slim hips until the first, probably accidental, brush of their chests together. Then Jak’s hands moved up, pressing and holding the redhead against him, stroking the cooling skin whenever it occurred to do as such. Daxter began whimpering and writhing in his lap, rubbing their arousals together more often than not. The hands that had been so confident up until now had started to flutter, their grip hard but unsteady as they continued to roam. In no time, they were diving back down, fumbling past pant ties, straight to where it was desired most. Even though he was waiting for it, ready for it, wanted it, Jak jerked back hard enough to scrape the chair across the floor. Daxter froze, still cupping hard flesh, trembling with the force of his gasping breath now that their kiss was well and truly broken. Jak felt dizzy, light-headed. Blood was rushing though his ears and he almost couldn’t get enough air. At least, not enough to answer Daxter’s shaky query of “Too fast?” immediately. “No,” he gasped, catching and holding the hand against him when it tried to move away. “Just…give me a minute…” Daxter nodded, relaxing until he could rest his head against Jak’s shoulder, careful not to move too much. The head-rush slowed, the disorientation faded, and through it all, Jak was keenly aware of that oh-so-intimate touch. How that warm palm fit against him. How little it would take for long fingers to wrap around him. How easy it was to flex his hips and press a little harder into the hand holding him. He groaned when wet lips began roving over his neck, licking and sucking tenderly at that spot that turned his thoughts fuzzy and his backbone to water. He sank down a little, glad for the chair’s support, and arched properly into Daxter’s fingers. The hand held as he moved, letting him find his own rhythm while still providing much needed stimulation. It wasn’t much, certainly not enough given his confinement and limited range of movement, but it felt amazing and he wanted more. Fingers curled, took him in a firmer hold without having to be asked, slowly and steadily stroking against the movement of his hips. Daxter abandoned one spot for another on his neck, nipping a little harder at sweaty skin before laving his tongue over the hurt. The prick of pain was enough to make everything through Jak’s groin tighten even more, the heat that had been building steadily now demanding an outlet. He crushed his friend to him with a whine that translated perfectly. He was stroked harder, faster, until he couldn’t keep up anymore and had to let that hot, slick hand drag him over the edge. Everything went black as Jak came, snarling like he was going Dark. For a second, it felt like he did. Ice, then heat, flashed through his system, followed by that slow swell of something else that opened, yet constricted the world around him. His senses sharpened, narrowing down to each place he was being touched, the salt, tang and musk in the air, the hard breaths being sucked in by his ear…all brought together in one person. Daxter—the name brought a rush of possessiveness so complete and consuming that it dazed him…and was then gone, as if it had never been. He came back to himself sprawled bonelessly in the chair, warm, content, sticky, and satisfied. It felt wonderful, to be so at peace… He nuzzled the head still cushioned on his shoulder. “Dax?” he breathed into the wonderfully flushed ear that was almost begging to be molested, if he could just coordinate himself enough to reach it. The body still pressed against his shuddered with an unabashed moan. Jak immediately shook off his lethargy. Had he hurt the other in the middle of all that? “Daxter? Dax, what’s wrong?” “Quit movin’,” was the breathless response, accompanied with another shiver. “Just…sit still, will ya? I—I’ll move in a minute…” Move…? It suddenly occurred to him that his friend’s breathing hadn’t evened out yet, that the body he was still holding was quivering and tense. Concern overrode everything else and Jak straightened up, intent on demanding a more elaborate answer when the problem made itself known. The moment he sat up, another needy whine escaped from Daxter, who arched in response to the movement, his still very hard cock rubbing against Jak’s stomach in the process. Once that little bit of friction was caught, stopping seemed almost impossible for the redhead, though he was definitely giving it his best shot, the stilted rocking of his hips a testament to how badly he wanted. The decision was made for him almost before he realized there was a choice to be made. Jak settled back, lifting the hand still loosely pressed against him and wrapped it around where it was needed. Using the mess his own release had left behind, he moved their hands over Daxter’s erection, trying to imitate the touch that had brought him to orgasm. From the sounds of it, he was doing a good job of that. “Gods, Jak… Yes…!” Without any extra prompting, Daxter picked up the pace, rocking hard into their hands. Unlike the last time he’d been like this, Jak could now see exactly how far and deep that pink tinge he was so enamoured with went. He could see how sweat caught the little tendrils of hair to Daxter’s cheeks and forehead, chest heaving as he tried to get enough air through parted, bruised lips. The way his back arched, bringing his whole body into the movement of his hips. Fingers tightened, eyes and teeth clenched…and then there was a choked cry as something hot pumped over their fingers in response to each throb against their palms. A gasp and the tension eased. Daxter buried his face into Jak’s neck, nuzzling absently while his clean hand clumsily found its way around the other side. A deep, shuddering sigh, and the redhead went limp. For a while, all Jak could do was stare at the ceiling as they simply existed together. He was warm and content in a way he barely remembered and would have been more than happy to stay there for the rest of the day if it meant keeping this feeling alive and well. Daxter had other ideas, apparently. He mumbled something unintelligible against Jak’s neck, pressing kisses to damp skin as he slowly worked his way up to a full, passionate kiss that was hot, but relaxing rather than arousing. It felt nice after so much pressure and intensity. Jak hummed in appreciation, following after those soft lips when they tried to pull away. “Easy, hero-boy,” Daxter said with warm amusement, sitting up with a little sigh. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” The satisfied smile he wore widened a bit, turning mischievous, and the spark in his eyes was bright and beautiful again. “Was that enough of a push for you?” A snort was Jak’s response. “You didn’t have to be so literal about it.” “Sure I did. How often do I get to knock you on yer ass? And look, we finally found a use for the chairs.” Jak rolled his eyes, but smiled in turn, pulling his madly grinning friend in for another kiss. Though he had to admit, if this was the way they were going to use the chairs, they might need to start using them more often. *** How many nights have I haunted you?While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.
Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!
Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo