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

Chapter List
- 1-Ch. 1
- 2-Ch. 2
- 3-Ch. 3
- 4-Ch. 4
- 5-Ch. 5
- 6-Ch. 6
- 7-Ch. 7
- 8-Ch. 8
- 9-Ch. 9
- 10-Ch. 10
- 11-Ch. 11
- 12-Ch. 12
- 13-Ch. 13
- 14-Ch. 14
- 15-Ch. 15
- 16-Ch. 16
- 17-Ch. 17
- 18-Ch. 18
- 19-Ch. 19
- 20-Ch. 20
- 21-Ch. 21
- 22-Ch. 22
- 23-Ch. 23
- 24-Ch. 24
- 25-Ch. 25
- 26-Ch. 26
- 27-Ch. 27
- 28-Ch. 28
- 29-Ch. 29
- 30-Ch. 30
- 31-Ch. 31
- 32-Ch. 32
- 33-Ch. 33
- 34-Ch. 34
- 35-Ch. 35
- 36-ch. 36
- 37-ch. 37
- 7
- 8
- 9
Characters: Belong to Naughty Dog, Inc.
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Mi compañero del cuarto se llama Jak. Jak es alto y rubio con verde. Es muy guapo. Jak juegue fútbol norteamericano. El es rápido y fuerte – y muy talentoso. El es cómico y muy simpatico, tambien. Yo quiero hacer Jak.
- - - - -
Daxter put down his pencil and reread what he had written. Five sentences “en español” describing a friend or family member: check. Review packet for the midterm exams: now three fourths finished. The redhead smiled smugly. That hadn’t been hard at all.
However. That last verb. There was something off about it. He frowned slightly, tapping the offending mark with his pencil. To be… ‘I want to be Jak.’ That’s how ya say “to be,” right? “Hacer?” Better check.
Digging quickly into his backpack, Daxter pulled out the dictionary he was rapidly becoming fond of.
Where is it? “To be, to be…” Ah, here we go. “Ser.” Oh, yeah. Can’t believe I forgot that. Carefully he wrote it in at the margin of the packet, not to be forgotten. It was an important verb, after all, and certain to be on the exam in a half dozen places. Glad I checked that one. But if “ser” means “to be,” then what does “hacer” mean? Better check that one, too.
Diligently the redhead flipped to the H’s. If he wasn’t careful he could begin to dig this whole bilingual business. At the very least, Jak would be proud of him for studying so har—
Yer kiddin’ me. No way! Abruptly Daxter slammed the book closed, suddenly wanting to whack himself in the head with it. Heads raised slightly all around the silent library study area but he took no notice, too busy frantically erasing his last sentence.
While it was still technically grammatically correct, the sentence was an incredibly embarrassing error on his part. ‘I want to do Jak.’ That’s just perfect, Daxxie. I bet the professor would get one hell of a kick out’a that one! Crazy woman gives me enough weird looks already.
So much for his concentration. Daxter sighed and tried his best to refocus. His Spanish midterm was tomorrow afternoon, for crying out loud. He had to get this stuff right! Now was no time to get hung up on how his personal vow to refrain from hero worshiping his roommate was steadily crumbling like a wave-washed cliff face.
It wasn’t like he was letting said hero worship happen on purpose. He couldn’t figure it out. An increasing number of games both home and away kept Jak busy enough, and the redhead’s new job kept him preoccupied an extra twenty hours a week, the maximum a fulltime student was allowed to clock. He and Jak had been spending less time together in the past month, not more. Strangely, though, their tight schedule made time they spent hanging out even more enjoyable.
More and more Dax would catch himself watching the green-blonde admiringly and have to shake himself forcefully out of that mindset. And it was absolutely not his fault! Rooming with Jak was like coexisting next to a majestic lion that had no idea just how majestic it really was and developed the personality of a kitten instead. Jak was helpful and kind and eager to please.
He also had the body of a porn star. All those hard muscles and traffic-stopping good looks that had terrified Dax at the start of the semester were catching his eye again in a different light—the light of blatant admiration and another, slipperier emotion he had finally pigeonholed as envy.
Yeah, that was totally it. He was just jealous of his buddy’s smokin’ hot bod. Who in their right mind wouldn’t be?
Spanish, goddamn it, Spanish! Daxter raked a hand through his hair in agitation as he forced thoughts of Jak out of his mind. There was absolutely no reason why he should be sitting in the library at half past ten at night thinking about how his roommate looked without a shirt. Normal, healthy envy had a time and place, and this wasn’t it.
… oh, but Jak did look so awesomely cool and bad ass sometimes that Dax wanted to swoon like the worst of the football team’s fangirls. Like the day not long after homecoming when Phoenix and Razer had held a screaming match in the room next door, and Jak had been bound and determined to knock some sense into both of them if the fight didn’t snap them out of the funk they’d both been in for almost a week prior. Jak had looked nothing more than coolly annoyed, whereas the redhead had been quietly flipping his shit—he didn’t like fights. Not at all. Hearing the yelling barely muffled through the walls conjured too many memories of foster parents he barely remembered otherwise yelling at each other, at other kids, at him. Fighting never turned out well.
Dax had thought he had covered his nerves pretty well, but then Jak had turned off the radio he had cranked up to cover the ruckus and dragged Daxter down to the cafeteria to waste more meal points on him. He suspected that Jak had growled at Phoenix for it later on, too.
And that all led up to the big question mark that Dax still couldn’t figure out: why was Jak so determined to use all that awesomeness at his disposal on a skinny, snarky, bucktoothed, freckle-faced—
Why was he even trying anymore? Obviously Daxter’s brain was on an extended holiday in non-Spanish climes. Screw the last part of the review packet. He could do it in the morning. Now all he wanted to do was go home and collapse in his bed, and stop thinking about the room’s other occupant. At least falling asleep wouldn’t be hard; after the all-nighter he had pulled yesterday to cram for the math midterm, even Red Bull wasn’t going to jumpstart Orange Lightning anytime soon.
A cold breeze caught the redhead as he left the library, making him shiver and turn up his collar. He jogged from the glow of one streetlight to another, vaguely thankful it was only a couple blocks to the dorm. Fallen leaves swirled across his path. It was kind of amazing how fast the time had flown. The woods behind Praxis Hall and the trees of the quad were almost entirely orange and yellow, now. Mornings and evenings were downright chilly.
Damn, an’ it’s only the middle’a October, he thought as he let himself into the dorm lobby. Hate ta think how miserable it’s gonna be runnin’ back an’ forth around this place in the snow. Hope Jak’s got the coffee maker plugged in!
Luck was on Daxter’s side. No sooner had he made his way up the stairs and jammed his key into the lock did the enticing aroma catch his attention. His backpack hit the floor with a thump of the books inside, but there were much more important details to tend to. “Honey, I’m home!—and I smell coffee. Is there hot coffee? If there’s hot coffee you just became my favorite person in the entire history of ever, Jak.”
Jak glanced up from his desk chair. “Hey, Dax. Yeah, there’s coffee. I thought you might want some.” From under a fall of emerald-green hair, Killer blinked out at Daxter and yawned. “How’d the studying go?”
“Eh, I got most’a the packet done.” Daxter grabbed a mug from their designated dishware drawer and poured a cup of steaming coffee, extra creamer. “I’ll do the rest tomorrow before class, no big deal.” He blew away the steam from the top of his warm mug and sipped happily. Ahhhh. Heaven. “What’s with the ferret in yer hood?”
Jak smiled, reaching up to scratch his sleepy-looking pet under the chin. “He was in my lap, but then he climbed up there. I think he’s cold.”
“Oh, wow, we totally can’t have cold weasel toes. That would be a tragedy.”
“He is not a weasel,” Jak cooed, voice dropping to a low timbre that only seemed to emerge when he was baby-talking Killer. “He’s just not used to it being cold yet. It was almost hot yesterday, and then this morning it was only a couple degrees away from frost.”
“Yeah. Couldn’t stay warm forever, I guess. Sure was nice while it lasted, though.” Another sip of coffee. Rather than doing anything to keep him awake, the seeping warmth was making Daxter content and even sleepier than he had momentarily forgotten he was. “Think ya did okay on yer chem lab midterm?”
“I still have all my eyebrows, don’t I?” Jak raised one in illustration and Daxter laughed. “How was math?”
“I think I did okay, actually. Which really means that I did totally the opposite an’ failed that sucker so hard I broke a record. Wonder if it’s possible ta actually earn negative points on an exam…”
Jak threw a crumpled snack cake wrapper at him. It hit the floor between them with a flutter. “Would you stop talking like that? You say you’re going to fail every damn time there’s so much as a quiz in that class and you haven’t failed anything yet. You don’t suck at math. Get over it, embrace it, move on.”
“Well, nyaaaah.” Dax stuck out his tongue before gulping the rest of his cooling coffee. It was definitely time for a wash, a brush, and a bed. “So, uh. You take a shower yet?”
“Not yet. I was trying to finish my Sociology review. We’re not taking the midterm in class, but I have to sign up and take it online sometime before this weekend.”
“Oh.” Daxter tried not to let his disappointment show. “No big. You just keep right on truckin’. I’ll be back in a few.” Just because he vastly preferred to shower when Jak did nowadays didn’t mean that the green-blonde should have to drop what he was doing every single time and go with him. It wasn’t like he needed a bodyguard in there or anything. How weird would that be?
But Jak was already closing his book and carefully lifting Killer off his shoulder. “No, no, it’s cool. I was about to stop for the night anyway. I’m in.”
It was bull and they both knew it. Jak was anything if not stubborn, though, so they collected soaps, shampoos, and the clothes they would be wearing to bed without further debate.
Daxter snuggled into his robe as they left the room to ward off the chill of the hallway. “I wish they’d go ahead an’ turn up the heat in this place. Ain’t you cold?”
Jak glanced down at the towel and flip-flops he was wearing. “Yeah, a little bit. Hey, I meant to ask you, would you be cool if I moved Killer’s cage away from the window? It’s really drafty over there. I don’t want him to get sick or something.”
“As long as he doesn’t wind up in my bed, yer ferret can go anywhere you want. But in the meantime, let’s hurry this up, huh? I’m gonna fall asleep standin’ up in the shower if we don’t.”
“I think we talked about you staying up all night to cram.”
“No sympathy, Jak? None at all? So mean.”
The showers were mostly empty when they got there and completely deserted by the time they were done washing up. Daxter toweled his hair while Jak blow-dried. They brushed their teeth side by side at the sinks, the redhead for once too tired to make fun of the faces they made. He was even too tired to complain about how the hallways felt even colder after the warm, humid comfort of the showers. By the time they reached their room, he felt ready to drop.
“Are you even going to set your alarm?” Jak asked when all Daxter did was drop his robe and shampoo before beginning the climb to the top bunk.
“Phone’ll go off at ten,” he muttered as he flopped face first into his pillow. Oh, God, that felt good. He relaxed at once, body melting into the soft sheets. “Don’t hafta be in Spanish ‘til one.” Eleven hours of uninterrupted sleep and he would still have more than enough time to eat, finish the review packet, and cram—study some more. Oh, yeah. The Dax-man had it all figured out. Now, if only he could retrieve the blanket balled up at the end of the mattress without moving…
Jak sounded amused, even as his voice faded to soothing background noise. “Okay, Dax. I’ll be sure to be quiet when I get up. I’m just going to move Killer’s cage now, alright?”
“M-hmm.” Sure. Of course. Whatever the big guy wanted.
“Yeah, think I’ll shove your desk out in the hall and put the ferret in your spot. Then I’ll draw a moustache on you with this permanent marker, okay? Are you cool with that, Dax?”
“Mmm.” Boy, was Jak’s voice nice. Deep and calm and…
Daxter was much too preoccupied with the backs of his eyelids to see Jak creep closer. He barely felt the whisper of a blanket being dragged up and draped over him. He didn’t stir at the gentle hand ruffling his damp hair. He was far, far too content.
“Goodnight, Dax.”
In the quiet of the dorm room Jak went about his business, moving ferret condos, finishing his sociology review, rinsing the coffee pot. The redhead in the top bunk was oblivious to it all. He was deeply asleep by the time Jak turned off his desk lamp and settled in downstairs. He didn’t hear the rising wind outside or the rain beginning to patter against the glass of the window.
Daxter didn’t hear anything at all, until the thunder started.
- // - // - // - // -
As usual, Jak fell asleep easily. That night, though, his rest gradually became fitful. Vague sounds and images began to penetrate his dreams. Deep rumbles. Bright flashes of light. He thought at one point the bed frame might have shaken, as if Daxter had scrambled down from the top bunk. A chair shrieked as it was pulled across the floor.
Damn it, Daxter, he thought angrily, half asleep as the light flashed once more. Keep the damn lights out when people are trying to slee—
Crrrrack-a-BOOM.
“What the hell?!” Jak shot bolt upright at the deafening sound, narrowly missing cracking his head on the underside of the bunk above him. Startled, he gulped a quick breath and looked cautiously around the darkened room.
…thunder? Yes, it had to be. Now fully awake, he couldn’t help but register the pounding of hard rain on the windows and the mournful howling of the wind. That’s weird. A strong storm at this time of year? Should have known we’d pay for Indian Summer with something like this, he thought wryly.
The green-blonde was moments away from rolling over and doing his best to go back to sleep again despite it all when he heard another sound, much softer than the wind and rain. He flicked an ear curiously. It almost sounded like a stifled choke.
What the heck is that? Sitting still, he tried to decide where the sound was coming from. It seemed to be stemming from the corner by the door. Right where he had just moved Killer’s cage to.
Jak sighed. He swung his legs out from under the covers and into the chilly air, grumbling softly to himself. “I swear to God, if that ferret has pneumonia I’m putting in a formal complaint that these rooms are too drafty.”
Fumbling for the desk lamp, he finally managed to flip it on. As thunder echoed and boomed around the dorm he knelt next to the cage. “Killer? You okay in there, little guy?”
Sleep-glazed black eyes peered up at him from the ferret hammock. Sharp white teeth glinted in a wide yawn. Nothing abnormal there.
Huh. I guess I need to stop being paranoid. Smiling slightly, Jak reached through the bars to gently stroke his little buddy’s back with one finger. Killer rolled in the hammock, making a sound of sleepy contentment—a sound immediately drowned out by another crack of thunder, and an almost simultaneous whimper.
Jak jumped. That had definitely not been a ferret sound. Slowly he turned on his knees to the shadowed space under his desk, only then noticing that the chair had been pulled away and was only partially in its correct spot. Tentatively the green-blonde reached for the chair and pulled it back further, peeking into the space beneath. “What the…?”
Hunched under Jak’s desk with his knees hugged to his chest, blue eyes wide and face streaked with tears, his roommate stared mutely back at him.
Jak’s jaw involuntarily dropped. “Dax? What are you doing under—”
He never got to finish. Another cacophonous clap of thunder drowned the question, half a moment before the lights went out. Through the darkness he could clearly make out those same noises that had first caught his attention, now identified as Daxter’s not altogether successful attempts at keeping hysterical-sounding whines quiet.
Jak reacted without thinking. One hand darted into the space under the desk and groped until he had Daxter’s upper arm in his strong grasp. A quick tug was all it took to drag the smaller boy out. Dax didn’t put up a fight, but didn’t make a move to crawl out on his own, either. And if Jak had expected him to stay quietly sitting on the floor by the desk, he was sadly mistaken. Barely a second passed before the redhead suddenly lunged into Jak’s arms. The quarterback was flabbergasted, to say the least, as thin arms anchored around his neck and harsh, ragged breaths panted in his ear.
“J… Jak…” came the breathless whimper.
O-kay, what the hell is going on here?! It was the middle of the night, he was tired, the power was out, what amounted to a tornado seemed to be revving up outdoors, and his roommate was practically sitting in his lap with a pro wrestler’s chokehold on his neck. Crying. Well, this definitely had to rank as one of the top ten most awkward moments of his life.
Despite his intense confusion, though, Jak’s throwing arm automatically rose to wrap around his friend and hold him firmly. Daxter was nearly frantic. Something was very wrong, and until he knew what that was Jak’s gut reaction was to hold, comfort, and protect. He reached up with his free arm and fumbled blindly on top of the desk until his hand landed on the cell phone he habitually dropped there. Ah-ha. Now, hopefully it was charged…
In moments a soft glow illuminated the corner. Soothed somewhat by the light, small as it was, Jak readjusted himself. Sitting cross-legged with his back propped against the side of the desk, he shifted Daxter in his hold until the embrace felt a little more natural and much more comfortable. Only then did he try to talk to the still-trembling redhead.
“Dax? Dax, are you okay? Come on, Daxter, you need to breathe,” Jak insisted softly. He didn’t know what else to say under the circumstances. Daxter was gasping for air so fast and so shakily that he was almost hyperventilating. This was crazy. Had he had a terrible nightmare or something? “What’s wrong?”
“S-storm,” he finally choked out against Jak’s neck. “Jus’… gimme a m-minute…?”
“Yeah, okay. Sure. Whatever you need.” The green-blonde was quick to reassure, a hand lifting of its own accord to run through his friend’s tangled hair. There was no way he would try to force Daxter to do anything when he seemed to be having a nervous breakdown. A reaction like this over a simple autumn storm? That had to be some kind of phobia!
In the end Jak wasn’t sure how long they sat there. It occurred to him in passing to check his cell for the time when its light dimmed and finally went off, but he decided it was unimportant. He would sit there as long as Dax needed to.
Damn, it’s getting cold in here. Without power, there was no heat. Other, newer residences on campus may have had backup generators prepared for just such a situation, but apparently theirs did not. It figured.
The room began to chill. Before long Jak was holding Dax even closer, just to ward off the encroaching cold. The hand that wasn’t occupied with being wrapped around the redhead’s lower back continued to pet his hair and occasionally rub comfortingly at his long, satiny ears. It was the ear rubs that finally did it, Jak suspected—Daxter tentatively began to lean into them, and his breathing evened out into steady inhales and exhales against the shoulder he was slumped against. Jak couldn’t have been more relieved.
Thank God. He’s still crying, but at least he’s getting some air. Gently Jak tried to coax him into a more upright position. “Hey, Dax? Can you sit up now? My ass is sort of asleep, here.”
As if he had been shoved, Daxter immediately released his hold and unsteadily stumbled to his feet. Backing away from Jak, he stood shivering in the middle of the room, wide-eyed gaze darting from his roommate, to the desk, to the window, and back again.
In the lighting flashes, the green-blonde could clearly see trails of fresh tears down that pale face. He immediately berated himself. I let him go too soon.
Apparently his job as comforter was not yet over. Would it take all night to calm the smaller guy down? Did he have a real problem? Should Jak go get Torn and let the RA deal with this? He tried to suppress the growing worries, and instead reached out to catch Daxter by one thin wrist and reel him back in. Maybe Dax would talk to him now.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” he soothed, gently pushing the shaking redhead down to sit unsteadily on the edge of the bottom bunk. “I… I guess I still had no idea you were afraid of thunder. You were fine with the fireworks at the games, right?”
Daxter forced in a ragged breath, swiping helplessly at his still-streaming eyes. “I’m n-not scared’a the n-noise, I just can’t ha-handle s-storms! I hate ‘em, Jak!”
His roommate’s pitiful wail had Jak grabbing him up again immediately. “Hey, hey, shh. Shhh, Dax, it’s okay.”
It obviously was not okay, though. Jak had no idea what to do except to sit and gently pet his friend. Daxter was nearly in his lap again, the narrow shoulders under his hands quaking and heaving under the force of stifled sobs. This was terrible!
“Sorry… s-sorry,” Daxter finally hiccupped, pulling back slightly from Jak’s tentative hug and scrubbing futilely at his eyes once more. He would have raccoon rings the next morning, for sure. “I’ll shut up, I p-promise. Just lemme get back under—”
“No. No way. You are definitely not going back under there.” Jak searched desperately for another solution. It was cold and hard on the tile floor, and getting the redhead back into his own bunk seemed out of the question. “You can sleep down here tonight, okay? With me.”
Daxter didn’t answer, merely staring at Jak in disbelief as he got to his feet and groped in the darkness for the pillow he knew was on the top bunk. Locating it with the tips of searching fingers, Jak didn’t hesitate to decisively plop it down next to his own.
“B-but…”
“Scoot.”
A firm nudge finally moved the redhead. Very slowly he pulled his feet up and crawled further into the bunk, shrinking away as Jak followed. He didn’t protest when the quarterback motioned him under the blankets, but was obviously trying his best not to touch Jak under the covers.
Damn, he needs to relax, Jak thought as they settled in. “Well, at least we’ll be warmer this way. It’ll get pretty cold in here with the power out. Think we can get some sleep now?”
Daxter nodded slightly, obviously trying valiantly to keep a constant stream of whimpers at bay as the rushing wind grew louder. As close to the wall as he could get, the redhead had buried his face in his pillow and appeared to be trying to block out the world. “…m’sorry.”
“Huh?”
“I’m sorry, Jak. I know I woke you up, I’m keepin’ you awake. Sorry.” A shaky breath into the pillow, a sniffle.
Jak immediately regretted mentioning lost sleep, even if he had meant it to lighten the mood. “You didn’t wake me up, Dax, the thunder did. Besides…” He wanted to say he was glad he was awake, if he could help Daxter feel better. If he could do anything at all to make his little buddy lose the terrified look in his eyes. But he couldn’t find the words he wanted and sighed in frustration. “Ah, hell. Just c’mere.”
Daxter squeaked as Jak moved closer, one strong arm wrapping around his slim middle to pull him into a warm embrace. The green-blonde knew he was fighting that little surge of panic that inevitably resulted from the contact, now that it was him reaching for Daxter and not the other way around. Before had been just a fluke, Dax seeking any safety he could and diving on him out of sheer terror. He waited for Daxter to fight the feeling off and let it go before pulling him in tighter. Their chests pressed firmly together as he rested his chin on the top of his friend’s head, the rest of them tucked together as closely as possible. He could feel the heart pressed against his own pounding.
“Relax,” he commanded softly as Daxter bit back another soft whine. “Just relax. You’re fine. It’s okay.”
Dax flinched, and then a hand slowly crept up to grip the front of Jak’s shirt. Jak couldn’t help but notice how timid that hand seemed, so different from how it was during the day. What a contrast to the hand that enthusiastically met high fives, snuck onto the corner of his lunch tray for a choice tidbit, and unabashedly swatted at him when he teased.
Jak let his own hand wander, cautiously moving to rub soothing circles across a tense upper back and shoulders. This time Dax didn’t try to pull away. Jak was glad. For whatever reason he felt that just lying beside him was not enough. Daxter needed to keep being held, and Jak was grateful that he was trusted enough to be allowed to do it. “Any better?”
"Yeah.” It was the barest whisper, far from reassuring.
Jak didn’t stop the awkward petting, letting his hand trail down to brush the redhead’s lower back and then back up to rub gently at the nape of his neck. Through the thin tee-shirt he had worn to bed Daxter felt almost cool to the touch, and Jak wondered just how long he had been huddled under the desk before being found. Even as the thought crossed his mind Dax shivered, ice cold toes tucking under Jak’s much warmer leg without their owner seeming to realize they were doing so.
The simple action raised a lump in the green-blonde’s throat, and he automatically hugged his friend even tighter to transfer over as much heat as he could. Damn it. No wonder he’s so cold. He’s so small…
The little guy had a fantastic appetite for someone his size, and Jak, with his athletic trainee’s eye, thought he was even putting on a bit of weight in all the right places. Since they had met he appeared to be gaining some muscle, adding a bit of depth to that spindly frame. But now, shaking in his arms, the redhead had never seemed smaller or more fragile. The spunk and fire he normally exuded were glaringly absent, as if they had never existed.
“Why are you so freaked out, huh?” Jak murmured, the hand at the back of Daxter’s neck never ceasing its calming strokes. It was time to get to the bottom of this. “What is it about storms that you hate so much?”
The defensive tense-up was immediate. “I don’t wanna talk about—”
“Yeah, I know you ‘don’t wanna talk about it.’ You ‘don’t wanna talk’ about a lot of things. But this time I think you need to. Maybe it’ll make you feel better.”
A dubious sniff. Daxter was obviously less than convinced.
Jak sighed fondly into the wild mop of red pressed against the bottom half of his face. His friend was stubborn, he’d give him that. “Come on, spill it. You can trust me.”
There was silence as Daxter thought it over. Finally he swallowed thickly. “You’re not gonna let this one go, are ya?”
“No. Dax, you were hiding under my desk. That’s sort of a big deal.” He paused for a blink. “Why my desk instead of your own, I have no idea.”
“Further from the window. But you say the word ‘therapy’ and I’ll kick yer ass,” came the quiet yet petulant mutter, half buried in his rumpled shirt.
Jak muffled a snicker. Dax had to be drastically calmer if he was tossing casual threats around. His voice was steadier, too, even if it was still much quieter than normal. “I swear I wasn’t going to say that. But, seriously. Please tell me what’s going on. Maybe I can help?”
“Sorry, I don’t think ya can.” Dax sighed, sounding almost resigned. “This got started a long time ago. Just full of childhood traumas, aren’t I?”
The green-blonde didn’t answer, content to let his friend wriggle into a more comfortable position. Daxter was going to tell him this time, he could feel it. He adjusted his arms to accommodate the redhead’s move and in the process gave him a slight squeeze of encouragement. “Okay, I’m listening. Non-judgmental audience, right here.”
Dax huffed. “Swear ya won’t say anything if I tell ya. You can’t get mad, and you can’t feel sorry for me. I’m just gonna tell ya like it is, and you listen. Got it?”
“I promise.”
“Okay.” The redhead took a deep, steady breath and began. “This is actually one of the earliest things I can remember really well. I was really little… like three or four years old, I think. It was stormin’ out and I guess it scared me pretty bad, ‘cause I wouldn’t stop crying. ‘Course you know how annoying cryin’ kids can be… They got pissed off an’ finally told me they’d give me somethin’ to cry about.”
True to his word, Jak didn’t make a sound as Dax paused to sniff and swipe some more at his face. Oh, but he wanted to ask. Who the hell were “they” that would rather punish a child for being afraid than try to comfort him? The same ones who would take a belt to him so hard he would have the marks for the rest of his life?
"Sooo… next thing I knew the door was open an’ they threw me out in the rain. I mean, it was pourin’, Jak. The wind was screamin’ and the thunder an’ lightning… it was awful. ‘Course I tried gettin’ back inside, but…”
“Door was locked?” Jak guessed softly.
“Yeah. I just stood there like a little idiot, crying and hangin’ on the doorknob, begging ‘em to let me in. It was raining so hard the gutters flowed over and I was right under it, gettin’ drenched. It was freezin’ cold.”
Cold. Jak felt cold inside. He’d had a feeling this wasn’t going to be a very pretty story, but… damn. Still he didn’t interrupt.
The redhead shrugged slightly. “That’s really all there is to tell. Pretty soon it started ta hail an’ the lighting got worse. There was this big ol’ tree out in the back yard a couple houses down. Lightning hit it, an’ then—bam. Knocked me off my tiny footsies and that’s all I remember. But after that, in my brain storms always equaled bad juju.”
“And they still terrify you into a panic attack.” Disbelief and anger warred.
Jak had memories of storms from back when he was that age, too. Memories of his father holding him up, standing at the screen door to watch the warm summer rain come pouring down. Chanting “Boom! Boom! Boom!” after every lightning strike until the real boom of thunder rattled the windowpanes and made him shriek with childish delight. He loved thunderstorms to this day. With so little effort on someone’s part, Daxter might have been the same. But instead…
“Panic attack? I guess maybe that’s what it is. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but…” The redhead managed a laugh. “Ever notice me listenin’ ta the weather station before bed? An’ some nights I’ll go to sleep with my headphones on? It’s not so bad when I know it’s gonna happen an’ can’t hear the thunder so good.”
Jak quietly digested the information. Now that he thought about it, he could recall nights where Dax seemed preoccupied, and retired early to bed with music blaring so loud through his headset Jak could clearly hear it on the lower bunk. How could he have missed that on every one of those nights there had been a thunderstorm? Granted there hadn’t been that many storms during the almost three months they had lived together, but still.
“I didn’t think it was supposed ta even rain tonight.” The comment was soft and offhand, almost like Dax was talking to himself. “Man, an’ you’ve got a class first thing in the morning, doncha? At eight?”
“Sociology.” Jak answered without thinking and then winced. He didn’t want to make Daxter feel guilty. “But like I said, the midterm isn’t in class. I can always skip. No big deal.”
“You, skip? Mr. Perfect, miss a class on purpose without a deadly illness or a broken leg?” The redhead snorted in amusement. “Yeah, right. You’ll go and you’ll be exhausted, while I snooze half the day away up here until Spanish. Sorry.”
The quarterback sighed. Daxter was right, of course. He had to admit, it was a little annoying to think about—until he heard the wind whistle through that annoying gap in the sill and felt his friend’s answering shiver. “I said it’s not a big deal. At least you’re feeling better. Right?”
“Uh…yeah.” Daxter seemed almost startled as he realized it was true. He had ceased to cry, stopped sniffling, and was finally breathing easily. Even the tension in his muscles had relaxed. “I am feelin’ better. But—”
“From now on you can just skip the headphones and… you know.” Jak shifted, trying to ignore the light blush that was beginning to stain his face. “It won’t bother me if you wanna just crawl in here.”
The silence was deafening.
Jak’s blush intensified. What the hell was he thinking, inviting his roommate to sleep with him when he got scared? If anyone found out about this he would never live it down. The bunk was too small and they were both much too old for such nonsense.
Only, it wasn’t nonsense at all. He’d had a panic attack just once before in his life, while he was studying for Haven U’s entrance exams at the end of his senior year of high school. A lot had been riding on that test; his football scholarship would have been meaningless if he couldn’t pass it. He remembered his ears ringing, being hot and then cold all over, not being able to breathe, feeling helpless and utterly terrified. His resolve strengthened.
“I mean it, Dax. If there’s no room just shove me over and get in. I’ll move.”
“Why?” The query was deceptively quiet. Daxter had stiffened in his arms.
“Why will I move? So you can get in, duh.”
“Why do you fucking care?!”
It was almost a full-fledged scream, and startled Jak into nearly falling backwards out of the bunk. Abruptly the redhead wrenched himself out of Jak’s arms, shoving him away. It was only when Jak registered that Dax had rolled away to firmly face the shabby dorm wall that he realized what was going on.
God damn it.   Daxter was crying again and trying desperately not to show it. Great. Now what do I do?
Jak lay still for a long while, weighing his options. As much as it hurt him to just let his friend lie there and cry, he knew that he should let it go. Daxter was no longer crying because he was terrified to the brink of hysteria. This was a different kind of emotional distress, and something he clearly wanted to be left alone to deal with for a while. Jak wouldn’t push it. But he wasn’t going to ignore the fact that he had been asked a question, either. A little reassurance seemed to be in order. Very carefully Jak scooted forward and looped his arm back around the smaller body next to him. He could feel Daxter’s breath catch as he was snuggly pulled back against the quarterback’s broad chest.
“Jak, l-look, I—”
“I care,” Jak said softly and firmly, warm breath tickling a long, rapidly twitching ear, “because I like you, Daxter. I like you a lot, even though you seem determined not to believe it. And whether you like it or not, I consider you my best friend. Well, besides Keira, but it’s not even the same kind of—uh, anyway. What I mean is, when you’re upset, it upsets me. If it’ll help you sleep and not hide under the furniture in the middle of the night, then get your skinny ass down here and sleep with me.” He let the statement sink in for a moment before adding as an afterthought, “Please.”
Dax didn’t try to push him away again, much to his surprise. There was only a shaky deep breath and a loud sniffle. “If anybody saw what a s-sap yer bein’, you’d totally get thrown off the t-team.”
Jak grinned and let out a relieved sigh. If the redhead wasn’t disputing his admittedly sappy statement of friendship, that must mean he wasn’t going to fight it anymore. “Well, maybe I don’t want them to think I’m just a jerk that would let his best friend freeze on the floor and cry. Maybe I should tell them about our super awesome bonding moment myself.”
“Go to s-sleep, ya big idiot!”
Well, that certainly settled that. Jak chuckled and drew back, willing to accept that his roomie was still determined to give him the cold shoulder. The green-blonde guessed that he would want some alone time if someone else had seen him cry that much, too. It had to be embarrassing. Still, he didn’t see the harm in giving his friend’s shoulder one final squeeze of reassurance before turning away. “Goodnight, Dax.”
There was no response, but then again Jak hadn’t expected one. He rolled over, as carefully as he could on the narrow bunk, until his back was against Daxter’s. Surprisingly, it was comfortable as sin. The cold air of the dorm room pressed in around them, but their combined warmth under the blankets was more than enough to keep it at bay.
Hmm, Jak thought contentedly. I almost forgot how nice it is to sleep next to somebody. This wouldn’t be so bad if Dax wasn’t so upset.
- // - // - // - // -
This wouldn’t be so bad if I wasn’t such a moron.
Curled tightly on his side facing the concrete blocks of the wall, Daxter tried to keep his shivers under control. Jak’s warm back against his helped with that. Despite his harsh reaction earlier, the redhead wasn’t naïve enough to believe that he didn’t owe Jak big for this. This was the calmest he had been during a storm since before he could remember. Having Jak hold him close and warm, feeling gentle hands pet and rub his back, shoulders, and hair—that contact he would have been sure he despised only a few months ago had been a tremendous source of comfort as he trembled and tried not to sob. And that voice, that low, smooth, calm voice telling him over and over again that he would be alright, that everything was okay…
Why does he hafta be so goddamn nice? Dax thought despairingly, hugging his pillow tighter and trying his level best to stem the flow of humiliating tears. And why do I care so much about it? I’m breakin’ all my own rules!
He couldn’t let himself get used to this. He couldn’t take what Jak had said to heart. Not completely, anyway. The green-blonde might consider them best pals now, but sooner or later Jak would no longer be there. He would be back on his own, just Daxter versus the world, like usual. Like it always had been. He couldn’t let himself hope it might somehow be different.
But, still. Dax sniffed and wiped his face against his pillow. Things had definitely improved since he had begun college life and met Jak. Since he had shacked up with the quarterback no one had dared give him so much as a bruise or scrape, and now here he was feeling almost safe with a huge storm raging right above their heads. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to pretend that they would always be friends, just for a little while.
Daxter allowed himself to imagine it for a moment. He pictured someone trying to put him out in the weather here, now, when Jak had his back. It’d never happen, he thought, easing his grip on the pillow and listening to the green-blonde’s steady breathing. They’d hafta go through Jak first. He’d give ‘em that sneer and crack his knuckles and they’d scatter so fast—!
The thought had him smiling and rubbing away the last of his tears on the corner of Jak’s blanket, until another flash of lighting lit the room through the thin curtains. Before the thunder could even sound Daxter had rolled and shamelessly buried his face between his roommate’s shoulder blades.
Oh, well. Pride was something he didn’t have an awful lot left of that night anyway. Maybe Jak would even turn back over and put an arm around him again? That would be—no. No, no, no. Daxter felt his face flushing at the thought. No way. Totally not goin’ there. He’s gotta be asleep already, anyway. Just listen ta that deep breathin’ he’s got goin’ on. Didn’t even twitch when I rolled over, either. Big guy sleeps like a freakin’ log.
He wasn’t sure exactly what it was that made him move closer. He wasn’t that frightened any longer, per se, but for some reason he couldn’t describe he still wanted to be nearer to his friend. Scooting forward until his nose was being tickled by Jak’s hair, in fact until he was nearly snuggling against the quarterback, Dax sighed.
Jak, from now on, I think… I’m gonna trust you.
Until Jak gave him reason to think otherwise, Daxter would believe him. He would accept without any more questions or second-guessing that they were best friends. There was still plenty of school year left to enjoy before they went their separate ways—which they undoubtedly would when next summer came. He still had no false illusions about that.
Starting immediately tomorrow morning, though, the redhead would turn over a new leaf and begin giving back as good as he got. He would make Jak smile, make him laugh, stop taking advantage of his extra meal points. He might even volunteer to take a turn cleaning the ferret cage. He would prove that Jak wasn’t wasting his time being kind to his smart-mouthed little roomie.
I’m gonna be all happy and open with ya, and be the best little pal you ever had, he thought determinedly. Hell, I’ll even pipe up an’ tell ya when I think ya look all cool an’ awesome. You can tell yer best friend when he’s lookin’ fine, right? That’s a normal friend thing. I think. Even though I’ll prob’ly be tellin’ ya that every day, since you always look gorgeous.
Satisfied with his decision, the redhead relaxed completely. Cutting short his own mental rambling, he settled in. Not that he planned to stay or anything. No way would he be caught dead the next morning practically spooning the campus’s most adored football player.
Boy, would some’a those chicks kill ta be in this position right now! Daxter grinned nervously. Gettin’ all cozy with the quarterback. Maybe I’ll just…
Very, very carefully, he snaked an arm around Jak’s trim waist. He was asleep, right, so what harm would a little hug of silent thanks and apology do? Besides, he would be out of Jak’s bed and back up into his own as soon as the storm blew out or the sun came up. Whichever came first. His roommate would never know.
Pressed against Jak, feeling his chest rhythmically rise and fall, Daxter couldn’t help but be at ease. Calm and content despite the continued noise of the storm outside, he smiled softly. “G’night, buddy.”
- // - // - // - // -
Jak’s eyes had widened when Daxter rolled over and moved against his back. They nearly bugged out of their sockets when a thin arm crept around his waist. Though his breathing remained deep and steady and he hadn’t moved a muscle, he couldn’t have been more surprised. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Time out. Does this mean he’s not mad at me after all? That would be cool. Now we can both get some sleep and I don’t have to worry about—
With a soft, sleepy noise, the redhead squirmed against his back. Jak almost cracked a smile at how quickly his roommate had moved on from violently rejecting his caring attention when a knee gently wedged between his own from behind, and Dax was suddenly pressed up against him completely. Everywhere.
Oh my God, no. Not now. We’ve been through this, body!
Jak had to fight the urge to groan in frustration as a familiar heat lit his face and neck, shortly followed despite his best efforts by an answering heat in his lower belly. This could not end well.
I’m so stupid. I didn’t even think about how weird it would be if I got turned on when I made him sleep here. How could I not have thought about that, with all these damn weird thoughts I’ve been having about him lately…? Jak absently gnawed at his lip. He should be disappointed in himself. Strange thoughts and urges about his roommate aside, Daxter was vulnerable right now! He needed comfort and support, someone to make him feel safe. Not someone who got aroused just because he was a warm body hanging on them.
That’s all it is, the quarterback told himself firmly. He’s in my bed and touching me and—of course I’m horny! I need laid so bad my body doesn’t care that he’s not a girl. That’s all it is.
Unbidden and all at once, Jak thought of Daxter’s quirky laugh. His slightly bucktoothed grin, his gratitude when Jak helped him with math problems and treated him to snacks, the way his eyes lit up when the quarterback proposed they go somewhere and do something fun together. Jak recalled all over again how angry he had become each time some new, pitiful story was revealed about his friend’s past. How happy he had been when the redhead didn’t squirm away from his shoulder rubs, tickling, and wrestling matches. The inexplicable need he felt to help Daxter and hold him and…
Suddenly Jak didn’t feel so good.
…oh please let that be all it is.
The green-blonde swallowed thickly and tried to think normal thoughts. Cheerleaders. Bikinis at the pool. Cute waitresses in short skirts. The women’s volleyball team on mud volleyball day. Daxter shyly trying to pull his shirt back on after a shower and getting the neck of it caught around his ears—
Jak gave up. He just needed to quit thinking altogether before he came to a really horrible conclusion. Instead he would just concentrate on diffusing some of the tension between them before things got seriously awkward.
Come on, Dax, ease up a little.
The redhead was unconsciously squeezing him around the waist, tighter and tighter. It wasn’t uncomfortable or anything, and Jak would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t like the contact, but if Daxter’s hand moved any lower… Jak didn’t want his hand to move any lower. Gently he grabbed his friend’s limp wrist and pulled that errant hand upwards until the warm palm rested against Jak’s chest rather than his stomach.
There we go. I don’t want to be responsible for what happens to you if you grope me in the middle of the night. Jak’s blush intensified. I mean, I wouldn’t want to slug you or anything if you startled me by grabbing me. Not that I’d, uh, put the moves on you or anything. I hope…
The need to bang his head against something was rapidly growing.
Realistically, what he needed to do was just bite the bullet and pick a likely candidate from his ever increasing queue of fan-girls. Even though he found the idea distasteful, a one-night stand would probably do him a world of good.
Huh. The only problem is picking just one of them without starting World War III, Jak mused. He could just imagine the scene as the girls fought for his attention. The slapping, clawing, and hair pulling would go unchecked. Bras would be snapped. Blouses would be ripped. Oh, the carnage.
With a tired chuckle, Jak shut his eyes. The funny thoughts were enough to relax him a little and help him forget about his current situation. He could think more about what he would do tomorrow. Right now it was time to catch what few winks he could before the alarm heralded yet another fun-filled morning of hurriedly gulped coffee and droning sociology lecture. One couldn’t sort out drastic personal issues when they were dead tired, after all.
Daxter hadn’t moved, sound asleep behind him and breathing regularly against the back of his neck. Everything was fine there. Giving one last brush to the hand on his chest, Jak fluffed his pillow into a more satisfying shape and settled in.
Just hope he doesn’t toss around in his sleep much. There’s not enough space as it is. Smiling at the thought of pillow-slapping his friend awake in retaliation if he got kicked out of bed that night, Jak drifted back to sleep to Daxter’s deep breaths and the sound of the fading rain and thunder in his ears.
- // - // - // - // -
To be continued.
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- 7
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