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Marked (Never Again)	By : grimreaperchibi Category: +G through L > Jak & Daxter Views: 3086 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Jak & Daxter, nor the places, people, or objects within. I make no money writing this.

Chapter List
- 1-Marked (Never Again)
- 1
A/N: This is for a few people. For my muse, who demanded "real Jak porn" from me before realizing this site existed. For Robin, who praised my work without ever reading a word of it. And for me, 'cuz I finally unlocked Hero Mode in Jak 2 (yeah, I know, I'm slow).
This piece takes place after the events in the second game. There is a blood play tag, but it's very minor (as far as I'm concerned, at least) and added just in case. This is long and involved, so settle in for a ride. Now, on with the show!
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Never again, Jak promised himself. He was never, ever, going to do this again.
Tired muscles protested being forced to jog, but he ignored them, far more intent on getting home before the sun rose again. He’d wanted to go home hours ago, when the sun has still been in the sky, when he’d first returned from the Wastelands. But it was always one more thing with this city and its people. One more minute, one more discussion, one more problem… Sure, jacking a zoomer would have gotten him there faster, as would have coming out on the south side of the Palace instead of the north, but he needed time to cool his temper. A hard run combined with the cold night air would hopefully work wonders on his current disposition. He didn’t want to take the anger and frustration he felt back with him…he wouldn’t take it to the one safe place he had left. For as badly as he needed to get home to the one who waited there, he didn’t want to return half-crazed, only a stone’s throw away from losing control like he had been when Samos had finally smacked Ashelin with his staff and told Jak to leave.
Oh, Dax was gonna be mad he missed that.
The memory of her stunned face and stuttering defense to the old sage was enough to make him chuckle, breaking the cycle of his dark thoughts. At least, until he remembered why Daxter wasn’t there. Then the anger came surging back, stronger than before. They all thought they knew better; Torn, Ashelin, Samos…even Keira. They thought they could look at him and see what he needed, or in this case, what he didn’t. It had been fine when Daxter was two-foot and fuzzy, a talking shoulder ornament as far as they were concerned, to let them go off on suicide runs together. Probably hoping that with each time out that he’d come back less a little weight. Never mind that Daxter had survived alone in this damned city for two years. Or that he’d been the only one with enough guts and gumption to sneak into a heavily fortified prison and free Jak, keeping a promise shouted in mindless-terror. Or that he stayed right there on that shoulder when things went from worse to down-right fucked up.
But now that he was normal sized, now that he could do more than shout warnings and curses so that Jak didn’t get a bullet from behind, they didn’t think it was right for Daxter to go with him anymore. Samos and Keira still saw a gangly young teenager who’s mouth was smarter than his brain, bumbling and uncoordinated because he was still all knees and elbows. Torn and Ashelin saw an insubordinate and untrained civilian, one of the people they were trying to protect, not one of their go-to guys. Every single one of them had missed that Daxter had grown up, having an exceptionally fine sense of balance and a manual dexterity that was second to none. Missed the fact that when it came to Jak, there was nothing he couldn’t do, and very little he wouldn’t. And though he had smiled, graciously (meaning he only argued through two turns) conceding when they had pressed this latest time that he stay behind, everything in Daxter’s voice had screamed how hurt he was by their continued insistence he was a liability and not an asset. They had ignored him.
With a few words of encouragement and a lingering kiss, Jak had left his best friend behind for a city that barely tolerated them. It made him sick. It made him angry. And worst of all, Ashelin had the nerve to prod the wound, making another demand of him as soon as he’d come back, making light of the extra gore on his clothes because he’d finished a five-day mission in three, as if proving he was more efficient without Daxter beside him. He’d been just about ready to vault over the table and…do something, when Samos had finally taken notice to his rapidly darkening disposition.
Which led him full circle. It was always like this, one dark thought leading to another, which lead to another, and then another, spiraling him into uncontrollable rage and Dark Eco. He couldn’t bring himself out of it. Not for long and not with any sort of consistency. Something always brought it back. That’s why he needed Daxter next to him. He needed some snarky comment to derail his thoughts and the comfortable weight beside him to remind him he was no longer alone. And if he needed to crack a few heads to ‘convince’ the others his wishes would be respected next time, then so be it.
Because he was not going on another mission without Daxter beside him ever again.
The smell of the port assaulted his nose. Normally, it relaxed something inside him because it meant he was almost to the home he’d managed to make in Haven City, to a place that was safe enough that he could relax. Not feelings he had ever thought of associating with a bar, and certainly not that bar when it had been under Krew’s management, but it made Daxter happy and gave them both some small measure of pride for owning something that was exclusively theirs. Tonight, though, it just sharpened the need inside him, heightening already eco-enhanced senses and pushing the animalistic nature Praxis had awakened in him. Stalling until he felt more in control was no longer an option. Jak broke into a run, everything but the path in front of him forgotten.
He didn’t even pause as he broke through the bar door, something far from explainable driving him almost blindly forward. Daxter had just enough time to drop the glass in his hand before Jak slammed into him, arms wrapping tightly around the smaller frame. He didn’t resist, easily conforming to the body pressed hard against his own. With the limited movement of his own arms, Daxter held just as tightly back, obligingly lifting and turning his head so that Jak could bury his face into the side of his neck.
“Hey, big guy, it’s great to see ya, too. This a social visit, or have you already cleaned out the city treasury with all the Heads ya brought back?”
The ache Jak felt started to ease, but it wasn’t enough. One sarcastic comment wasn’t going to even things out, and they both knew it. Daxter wiggled until he could free his arms, turning the embrace into a proper hug. Fingers dug into thick blond hair, touching and rubbing and petting in a vaguely absent manner that said more than any words. Even those words--I missed you, I’m happy you’re here now, I won’t let this happen again--wouldn’t be enough. It was a start, though. Jak relaxed and eased up on his grip. It took a few seconds longer to feel stable enough to start pulling away when--
“--who let the freak in?”
Everything in Jak locked up. Forget spiraling; he fell headlong straight down. The only thing that kept him from lashing out was the hand still buried in his hair, still stroking the back of his neck lightly like nothing was wrong. He could have broken away. The grip wasn’t strong to begin with and he had a lot more brute strength than his friend ever would. It would have been easy. But he didn’t. Instead, he pressed his fanged snarl into the soft skin before him, offering the one thing so few others would ever know--trust.
Because in the mere moments it had taken to fall far enough for the physical changes to start taking place, Daxter’s free hand had pulled loose the morph gun and leveled it at the speaker. He still stood supple against Jak, the same strong, reassuring presence he’d been before the errant comment. “Get the hell outta my bar.” Ah, but the voice had changed, the only indication of exactly how angry Daxter was himself.
“Hey man,” the offender said quickly, no doubt terrified at having the business end of a blaster rifle shoved under his nose. “Let’s be reasonable.”
“Reasonable walked out the door five seconds before ya decided to open yer trap. Now you got five more before I shut it permanently. An’ don’t think I’ll miss holdin’ this pea shooter one-handed. If I could handle it when I was half it’s size, I can certainly as hell fire it now. Now get out and don’t come back. If you can spew out that kinda shit, then the swill down the way won’t taste any different.”
Dead silence followed the hasty retreat of footsteps and the door slam. “Anyone else share his opinion?” Daxter growled loudly. More silence. “Back to yer business, then.”
It was like someone pressed play on a sound recorder; the bar instantly filled with the noise of conversation. Unheard by all but Jak, Daxter swore viciously, hand tightening for the first time. The possessive/protective gesture sent warmth sliding through the cool Dark, soothing the pain in his skull and hands. Suddenly, Jak felt exhausted, reminding him how long it had been since he’d last slept.
“Is everything okay, Daxxie? Oh! Hi, Jak.”
He couldn’t see Tess. Daxter had shifted subtly to block their direct views of each other, his hand resuming its petting. “Perfect, puddin’ pop. Just needed to kick the stick in some guy’s ass a little further up, is all.” She giggled. “Hey, fluff muffin, I’m goin’ incommunicado. We cool?”
“Of course! Just leave it to me.” Another giggle. “Goodnight, Jak.”
Gently, but firmly, Daxter pulled him through the bar kitchen and up the back stairs to the living area they shared. No sooner had the morph gun been tossed aside and the door locked than Jak found himself pressed against it, the very enthusiastic redhead in his arms kissing him hard. The hand in his hair threaded up while the other, now weapon-free, clawed down his spine, sending a pleasant tingle through shot nerves. His arms tightened of their own accord, drawing a willing body even closer. Daxter moaned, tongue darting out to run across Jak’s lower lip, eliciting a small gasp in response. Never one to waste time or an opportunity, that dexterous tongue slipped into Jak’s mouth, sliding against its counterpart in a slow tease before pulling back, just barely grazing still prominent fangs.
Jak jerked back hard enough to knock his head into the door. “Dax… No, I’m--”
“Gorgeous. Wonderful. Desireable. Captivatin’. Delicious. Molestable, and a truck-ton of other stuff besides,” Daxter panted, following after their broken kiss. “Most importantly, mine.”
Pinned against the door, there was nowhere for Jak to run to. Using the position of his hands and arms around Jak’s shoulders, Daxter hoisted himself up to make up the difference in their heights, making Jak lean forward or otherwise carry the additional weight. He was too tired to even try. Giving in, Jak found his mouth once again occupied by an increasingly bold tongue, which brazenly swept across elongated incisors every chance it could. He tried fighting back, tried to push things from his mouth into his partner’s, but every opportunity was either blocked or circumvented. Displaying every ounce of stubborn will and devious intellect, Daxter stayed firmly where he was, rubbing, touching, and making all the right needy sounds at the right time to tear apart Jak’s resistance.
And resist Jak did, making his lover work twice as hard as he normally had to for this kind of affection. Any other night, they probably would have rolled once through the bed already and would be on round two or three in the large soaking tub by now. But tonight, the Dark Eco in his blood ran too close to the surface for him to be comfortable giving into the strong emotions sex fueled. Most thought it was only equally black feelings like fear or anger that brought out his dark persona. The reality was that any emotion strong enough could activate it, sharpening senses and blanking his mind to things beyond base concepts…and lust was about as base as it got. For a much as he craved the intimate contact, he was terrified of the possessive, dominating need that sprung up a well. This desire to claim, to mark and take what he felt was his was hard enough to control without help. He still left bleeding gashes and deep bruises on a good run. Already stressed, tired, and channeling, he’d probably Dark out completely. And when he came back to his senses… Well, his nightmares filled that one in nicely.
Realizing he wasn’t getting what he wanted fast enough, Daxter started playing dirty. His hands stopped holding, moving to fondle Jak’s long ears instead. Fingers stroked the top edge while thumbs ran along the lower curve, tugging gently at the tips before sliding back down and starting over again. It was a proven stress reliever, having sent Jak to sleep on more than a few occasions. To keep interest up, Daxter reluctantly pulled away from their intense kissing to start licking and nipping at Jak’s neck. Finally, as if to say it was too late to back out now, he turned slightly and ground their hips together, proving one was just a hard and wanting as the other. Daxter moaned breathily when Jak’s hands reflexively tightened around his waist, keeping them locked together in this new position. Jak growled deep in his chest when there was another thrust.
“Daxter--”
“I know, babe. I know.” A hot tongue pressed to the pounding pulse point in Jak’s throat before swiping over his Adam’s apple. “But yer still you, an’ I’m still me, an’ all the eco in the freakin’ world won’t change that.” Daxter pulled away, catching and pulling Jak’s face down to meet his. Even in the dark, Jak could clearly see the other’s kiss-swollen lips, the excited flush that ran across freckled cheeks, and half-lidded eyes shining with all the words he would never say out loud, lest their weight and meaning become useless. He leaned up, pressing their foreheads together, eyes still locked. “If ya can’t trust yerself, then trust me. ‘Kay?”
The combination of things said and unsaid broke the last of his reservation. Jak lunged forward, capturing Daxter’s surprised squeak in a heated kiss of his own, once idle hands now actively trying to find a way past too many layers of cloth. The red head didn’t remain passive for long, but it did give that feral undertone exactly what it was looking for. Hunger and desire for more almost burned with its intensity, focusing his attention to the fact that their bodies were no longer sliding against one another. He growled again, closing the space only to find his step forward had done nothing to bring them back together. It was only after the third step that he realized they were steadily moving out of the living room and towards the bedroom, Daxter using his instinctive need to be close to direct their movements.
Well, two could play that game. A short step followed by a longer one brought them flush again, so that the next step was Jak pushing Daxter back instead of being pulled along. The breathy noises he so loved came back, slipping out whenever their lips weren’t sealed together. For a few faltering steps, all Daxter could do was hang on, moving when Jak moved, moaning as Jak continued to rub against him. Then he started fighting back, pulling and pushing at their clothes, seeking out the sensitive skin underneath. They moved through the apartment like this; tongues fighting for dominance as they panted into each other’s mouths, hands fluttering about, trying to be the first to divest the other. A trail of discarded clothes, armour, and goggles followed their stumbling path, always pressed from chest to hip as they went along. How they managed to not run into anything, neither knew, nor had the attention to spare to contemplate it. Only their ingrained knowledge of each other, built up over years of wreaking havoc together, kept them from falling into a tangle of limbs before they were ready.
They were almost to the bed when Daxter cheated again, sliding one hand between their bodies and into Jak’s loosened (but not lost) pants, palming the hard length there. Jak shuddered to a stop with a groan as dexterous fingers circled and stroked, the slightly cooler hand a wonderful contrast to overheated flesh. The distraction gave Daxter an opportunity to switch their positions, to make sure Jak hit the bed first. A few more steps and he gave a firm push that sent the hero sprawling across the covers. Slightly dazed, Jak looked up to see a self-satisfied smirk on Daxter’s face as he purposefully shimmed out of the last of his clothes, never once breaking eye contact as he did so. Then he just stood over him, letting himself be looked at. With silent permission granted, Jak boldly let his eyes wander over everything exposed to him, only half aware he was already planning where to leave marks. Pale skin was highlighted in the poor light, dusted here and there with freckles, or decorated with a scar. His slender frame would never carry the muscle mass Jak displayed, but there was still tone and definition etched into his body, leaving no doubt he was very much male despite his thin stature. Sturdy shoulders, a smooth chest, firm stomach, sinfully narrow hips… He rumbled in approval when he reached Daxter’s heavy erection.
“Like somethin’ ya see, handsome?” The smirk grew even more satisfied when Jak’s gaze slowly wandered back up, absently licking his lips. “Well, if ya wants some’a this,” he swished his hips, “then I suggest ya get rid of these.” He tugged at Jak’s pants. “I don’t want yer belt buckle diggin’ into my ass like the last time and I’m not goin’ anywhere near yer feet after three days in the Wasteland.”
Despite himself, Jak huffed out a laugh as he set to his task, watching Daxter out of the corner of his eye. Knowing he was being watched, the other purposefully strutted to the dresser and bent over, leaving his ass in the air as he riffled through a drawer for lube. Jak’s boots hit the floor perhaps a little harder than they should have and a little wiggle was his reward. By the time Daxter found what he wanted, Jak was completely undressed and laid out a bit more comfortably on the bed, stroking himself lazily with eyes glued to Daxter’s pelvis.
“Stop that,” Daxter admonished, slapping the hand away. “That’s mine, thanks-so-much. Ya wanna do somethin’ useful? Here.” He shoved the bottle of lubricant at Jak, and then began crawling down his body. Jak fisted the sheets as Daxter moved down, starting at his throat again before sucking at his collarbones. Down, mouthing his chest, a few fervent licks across hardening nipples, then teeth dug into the weird spot along his sternum that never failed to draw out a groan. Down further. Slow, sucking kisses across his stomach that tickled as much as they excited, a hot tongue trailing even lower across hipbones and the junction of the thigh, fingers proceeding the torturous mouth to sensitize skin with light scratches and soothing caresses. It was maddening, but even more so when Daxter stopped right before getting to where Jak wanted him the most.
“Hey, I’m not the only one who should be workin’ here,” he panted, his breath in Jak’s cock enough to let him know how close he was to having his wish fulfilled. “Get with the program, buddy.”
It was hard to get past the desire to just shove that flippant mouth down and give it something else to do. He almost did anyway, but couldn’t get the leverage needed. Daxter was draped across him, knees planted on either side of his chest, facing in the opposite direction. Finally, Jak focused on the perfect view said position gave him of Daxter’s ass, trembling with every gasped breath, spread and on display. An even better idea struck him as he grabbed slim hips and leaned up, tongue firmly following the body seam up. Daxter let out a particularly sharp keen, automatically trying to thrust back. Jak held him still and repeated the motion.
“Fuck, Jak! I--Ah!--I’m gonna need more--oh, god--more than yer tongue--nngh--if ya want more than mine.”
A part of Jak wanted to point out he didn’t even have that yet. Just a hand, pumping in time to the draw of his tongue while the other clawed at his inner thigh in a kneading fashion. But for as appeasing as it was to make someone usually so glib stutter and whine, he wanted to be inside Daxter, forcing those sounds to ring out into the night. Blindly, he groped for the forgotten bottle, unwilling to give up the mewling and squirming long enough to properly look for it. Especially not when both picked up a notch because he stopped teasing everything and focused in on the little ring of muscle he planned on sliding past in the near future. Somehow, Jak found the bottle (resting in a place he swore he’d already checked twice) and managed to coat his fingers without spilling it everywhere. Only then did he pull back. Daxter was quivering, head pillowed on one of Jak’s thighs, hand still moving even though it had lost its rhythm partner. He was taking gasping breaths, trying to calm the thudding heartbeat Jak could feel reverberating into his own body wherever they touched. With a particularly hard shudder, Daxter picked himself up, looking back over his shoulder.
Beg, dark blue eyes commanded.
“Jak~,” he whimpered anxiously, legs spreading wider so he could rub his entire body against the one beneath him. “Don’t leave me hangin’ like this. Touch me. Get me ready fer ya. Please~.”
Prove it. Jak adjusted his hips slightly. Daxter whined again, only to be met with the same demand. He gave in the second time, trailing his tongue down the almost painfully hard cock in his hand. Jak sank back with a moan, enjoying the sensation of fingers and a tongue moving opposite each other. Up and down a few times, then over the crown and down the other side, never quite giving what was really being asked for. It was recompense for being forced to beg, only to be denied. Again, the desire to just take flared, but playing and teasing had become too much fun. So Jak relented, letting slick fingers trace the same line his tongue had earlier and was instantly rewarded as Daxter’s mouth engulfed him.
It felt almost too good, the way that talented tongue slid against him, the wet heat of a willing mouth completely enclosed around him. There was no tentative licking, no attempt to go slowly or draw out the pleasure. Daxter practically unhinged his jaw to take everything at once, opening up his throat and swallowing repeatedly, keeping up a constant sucking pressure that made Jak’s eyes roll back. It only got better from there. When the first finger pressed in, Daxter hummed in approval. The second finger renewed the writhing, hips thrusting back of their own accord. No sooner had Jak added the third than Daxter bolted upright with a cry.
“Enough! I can’t--!” He pulled away, scrambling to turn around. Guessing at what was to come next, Jak reached out to help, only to be firmly pushed back down. “No. Let me do this. I want ya to watch me. You can hang on, but let me do this.” And then Daxter was slowly sliding down on to him, moaning with every inch he took. “Dead Precursor Gods, Jak… We could have sex six times a day for the rest of forever, and I’d still never get used to how this feels.” With a hitching breath, he braced his hands on Jak’s chest and lifted his hips, settling back even further than before. Biting his lip, repeated the motion. Then again, slowly riding the hot length inside him.
Jak watched with rapt attention as Daxter moved above him, stroking and petting straining hips and trembling thighs, ready to help the moment it became too much. His lover was trying so hard to go slowly, to control his movements so that this connection would last. But his body was betraying him. Every down stroke was a little harder, a little faster, punctuated with a small noise of pure pleasure that was steadily growing louder. His body kept tightening, the erection lightly bouncing against Jak’s stomach leaving a wet smear, telling him how close Daxter was to coming. That thought alone was enough to send a shiver through Jak’s body--he wanted that, wanted to see Daxter climax while thrusting into him from below. Wanted to feel the muscles spasm as a body on overload tried to continue taking while hot cum splattered across his stomach and chest. He wanted to hear Daxter scream his name loud enough that it could be heard in the bar despite all the sound proofing the upstairs rooms had anyway. But before he could act on the want, Daxter opened his eyes and all Jak could do was stare up in awe, absently wondering what he’d done to earn such a look.
“Yer beautiful,” Daxter said, voice husky and breathy. “Of all the people who would…ya let me. You choose me. You want me.” He groaned, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as his rhythm faltered. Then his gaze was locked on Jak again. “I want you, Jak. I want everythin’ you can give me. I want ya to take me. Take what ya want from me, until yer satisfied. As many times as it takes until yer satisfied I’m yers.” He shifted, moving faster, starting to stroke himself as he moved. “Jak. Jak, please. I want it. I want yer mark on me. I want everyone to see it, to know I belong to ya, that you belong with me. Please, Jak. Take me…make me a part of you. Jak!”
Hands dug into the flesh beneath them, pulling down sharply, eliciting a wordless cry. The second time, Jak thrusted up to meet the downward stroke. Daxter screamed, throwing his head back and arching his spine. “Yes! More! Jak!”
Jak was more than happy to comply, forcing the other’s hips to move against him. It didn’t take long before Daxter came undone, choking on a cry. Jak growled and rolled them so that he had the leverage to do as he was bidden, thrusting hard and fast like he’d wanted to for a while. Daxter writhed and clawed at his back, crying out desperately as he was roughly taken. It only encouraged Jak to snarl and bite down on the neck in front of him. This time, the cry of his name rang out clearly from Daxter’s lips. This time, Jak came with him, moaning softly and licking at the bite apologetically.
They lay there, panting and entwined, for a long time. Daxter touched while they waited for their hearts to calm, petting sex-mussed hair and sweaty skin. Despite himself, Jak purred, the healthy rumble vibrating through his chest as he absently nuzzled and kissed whatever happened to be in front of him--mostly Daxter’s neck and ear, sometimes over his jaw and cheek. Once in a while, Daxter would turn to steal on honest kiss.
There was still a trembling in him, though, a need that hadn’t been satisfied with the almost violent coupling from minutes before. Jak could feel it as surely as he felt Daxter’s skin pressed to his, in the way stroking hands had started to shake and otherwise steady breathing would occasionally hitch. Jak shifted, lifting himself enough to trail his kisses over prominent collarbones and down a slightly heaving chest. The salty combination of clean skin and fresh sweat tasted good for some reason. Jak soon found himself licking his lips after every other kiss just to catch the flavor. He gave up the middleman, applying his tongue directly to the source. Daxter moaned softly, arching up into the contact. The trembling began to subside, so Jak continued, long, languid draws across cooling but still flushed skin with soft kisses and gentle nuzzles interspersed throughout. Every inch of Daxter’s chest was covered with some form of affection before Jak started to work his way back up. Licking the bite mark drew a startled gasp, but he didn’t stay to tease it, moving up further to nip and lave the ear just beyond.
Daxter squeaked as teeth gently teased the sensitive curve, squirming against him, but never actually pushing Jak away. It felt good, especially now because the trembling was nearly gone. He curled a little more tightly to the body beneath his and started teasing in earnest. It earned him all sorts of half moans, breathy gasps, and hands reflexively clutching at his shoulders until he gently blew in Daxter’s ear. His lover turned his head sharply, pulling Jak in for another searing kiss while pressing flush once more, making them both moan. “Again,” he breathed when they separated.
Their mouths met again, strong and willing on both sides this time. It wasn’t the same frantic pull the night had started off with, nor was it the gentle reassurance exchanged when coming down from the euphoric high. It was kissing because the act of kissing felt good. Made them both feel good. Jak was the first to shyly deepen it, pulling back slightly to trace pinking lips. Daxter’s tongue met his hesitantly before their lips sealed again. They re-explored known territory, both inside each other’s mouths as well with wandering hands. Daxter carded his fingers through Jak’s hair to the spot on the back of his neck that seemed to bring instant bliss, then swept across broad shoulders, down a strong back and back up along the spine, dragging his nails against the thin skin there. A brush of Jak’s ears and then fingers were once more threading through his hair, starting the pattern again. Jak buried his own hand into Daxter’s wild golden red mane, slipping behind his head to support their kiss. The other skimmed over Daxter’s sensitive side, over ribs and stomach just hard enough not to tickle, before kneading down the thigh still draped over his own. If he really reached, he could find the little area right behind the knee that would make the other stiffen and melt as the same time…which he did with a low groan.
“Again,” Daxter pleaded when their lips finally disengaged. Jak ignored it, once more intent on the ear and neck in front of him and the way the body beneath him shivered and twitched in response. Just scraping his teeth over the upper ridge, or following the lower curve with his tongue was enough to make Daxter keen and gasp, unconsciously but insistently tugging at the hair he’d been stroking. Eventually, it pulled Jak’s attention away from the abused ear, only to refocus on the length of a neck just below and give it the same attention to twice the effect. Pinned by the larger frame, all Daxter could do was writhe where he was, crying out inarticulate words as he body went from mildly aroused to completely enflamed. “Jak, please!” he howled desperately. “Again!”
This time, Jak obliged. He flexed his hips, unable to help the grin that followed his partner’s rapturous yell. It was all the encouragement he needed to shift and start thrusting again properly. They moved against each other at a much more leisurely rate, Jak pressing in at a maddening slow pace until he touched something that made his partner spasm with a breathless cry. Then back out at the same speed, drawing out the halted movements and low whine that ended in a tiny gasp when the direction finally changed. Daxter moved with him, hips arching to meet each stroke. It was obvious his body wanted to go faster if the way he jerked and reflexively bucked was any indication, but he tried his hardest to match Jak’s pace, answering approving rumbles with breathless whines. Jak slid an arm under his waist to provide a more solid support to move against even as Daxter wrapped his arms around Jak’s neck, holding them close. The next kiss dissolved into merely panting and moaning into each other mouths.
After a while, the dominating position no longer interested Jak. As good as it felt to have his partner beneath him like this, clinging, rubbing and straining against him, there was something else he wanted. He kissed away the whimper of protest with a rough roam of his tongue through Daxter’s mouth before pulling back to sit up. He didn’t get far before shaking hands clamped down tightly to his arms, trying to stop him. The trembling from before came back forcefully, adding a harsh, rough edge to already laboured breathing. Eyes that had been closed in pleasure were now wide and bright with confusion and panic. Startled, Jak allowed himself to be pulled back down. Daxter immediately buried his face into the side of the hero’s neck, his whole body trembling, whispering something repeatedly.
He didn’t need to hear the words to understand what they were saying. Trying to be as reassuring as possible, he slowly pulled them both into a sitting position, settling so that the other was curled into his lap, back pressed to his chest. He buried his nose into the soft hair on the back of Daxter’s neck, hands stroking over his mate’s chest and stomach. Slowly, the touching and nuzzling calmed him back down and soon, the momentary panic was completely forgotten. They settled into each other once more, gently moving and touching, quickly rebuilding what had been lost. It wasn’t long before Daxter was once again mewling under the treatment, pressing back into the body behind him. From there, it was easy to adjust the alignment of their hips so that on the next roll, Jak was once more seated inside his partner. Together, they rocked against one another, drawing out the pleasure of the moment. Jak pressed his hand to the chest he’d been stroking, keeping them solidly connected while the other slipped lower to palm a renewed erection. Daxter started rocking harder, once again kneading at Jak’s thigh. Jak rumbled in response, setting teeth to skin a second time. In return, slightly cool hands once more slipped into his hair, holding his head to where it felt best. Daxter’s head fell back against a strong shoulder, begging for more with only Jak’s name slipping from his lips.
Gradually and yet still all too soon, all semblance of control was lost. Daxter came with a loud cry, hand tightening painfully in Jak’s hair while Jak came with a shudder and groan, muffled by the skin still between his teeth.
Finally, muscles loosened, and Daxter sank back into the cradle of Jak’s body, nuzzling sleepily against his chest and throat. Jak gathered him close, purring once again and nuzzling back. When he finally gathered enough of his wits, the redhead twisted and pulled Jak into another long, lazy kiss before pointedly shivering. The request was clear, but ignored as he stole another kiss instead, simply enjoying the contact between them. Only when the random shivers became consistent did he finally pull away, scooping up his exhausted mate and carrying them both into the bathroom.
Gently, he set the other down before turning to run water in the soaking tub, only to be confronted by his image in the mirror. Almost black blue eyes stared back, alien and familiar at the same time. His hair was frosted white at the tips, matching the paleness of his skin that clung to his ears, patterning across his skin like a strange tattoo. In stark contrast were the pitch blank horns curled up over the top of his head, shiny but only half their normal length. The same was true for his claws, which were more like exceptionally sharp fingernails.
He looked back to where Daxter sat, listing ever so slightly to one side with a sleepy-glazed look to his face…and the bleeding punctures set in a deep, rapidly blackening bruise that took up the entire junction on his shoulder and neck. There were more bruising starting to show on his hips and thighs, highlighted by seeping scratches. With a great deal of effort, Jak fought the urge to run his tongue over his fangs, to see if he could still taste Daxter’s blood on his teeth.
With all due haste, he started the water running in the tub. When he was satisfied with the temperature, Jak grabbed the bathing kit and began cleaning them both up. For the most part, Daxter let Jak do whatever, his only sign of discomfort coming when water was poured over the mark on his neck. He hissed and flinched, but only the first time. When Jak was satisfied with their cleanliness, he curled Daxter back against his chest and settled into the hot water.
“Hey. Tall, blond, an’ broodin’. Yer harshin’ my mello.”
There was nothing to be said to that, so Jak tightened his grip instead, trying to communicate how sorry he was. But Daxter wouldn’t have it. He huffed a little and straightened up. He stroked Jak’s cheek a few times before forcing their eyes to meet. “Stop it,” he said sternly. “You were doin’ so good. Don’t go back down that road on me. Ya didn’t hurt me, an’ I specifically remember askin’ for an’ enjoyin’ the experience that gave me this hickey from hell.” He lightly thunked their heads together. “What happened to trustin’ me?”
“Daxt--” His words were cut off by a hand over his mouth.
“I know you don’t wanna hurt me,” Daxter said patiently. “But don’t ya also think that I’d stop you if it really hurt? That if it was painful, I’d come screamin’ yer name? Or beg for more when you started messin’ with it again? Fuck, Jak, how long are you gonna be scared of yerself when the proof is right in front of yer nose? Yer in control. Maybe not in the way you want it, but yer in control like this. You didn’t dice me to pieces an’ eat me.” Jak grimaced and Daxter had that grace to look apologetic. “Well, ya didn’t. You didn’t even come close. An’ that’s what counts, that yer not even close to what ya think shoulda happened.” He sighed, deflating some, burying his face into Jak’s shoulder. “What do I gotta say to make you believe me? What do I need to do? Tell me, Jak. Just tell me an’ I’ll do it. Tell me an’ let be worth somethin’ for once…”
“You’re worth everything,” Jak hissed automatically, only to receive a hard punch and a glare for the effort.
“Ya see this? Why do you get to be angry when someone thinks I’m not worth it, but I don’t when the roles reverse?” he demanded, jabbing a finger into Jak’s chest. “It hurts the same, ya know, watchin’ you go through this every single time we have sex. It really makes me wonder if I’m really helpin’ anythin’ at all, or if I’m just as useless as everyone thinks I am.”
“You’re not worthless.”
“Then why can’t I make this go away? Why can’t my voice drown out all the others? It’s okay for me to dance with Darkie when he’s pissed and lettin’ off steam, but I can’t convince ya a little possessive pawin’ in bed is okay? That I like it?”
“Because I don’t want to hurt you.” Daxter groaned, exasperated. “I know I keep saying that,” Jak hurried on, “but you don’t know what would happen if I lost it. I won’t take the chance that I’m going maul you in a fit of passion.”
“Actually, I do know.” He pointed matter-of-factly to the mark on his neck. “Trust me when I say this is the worst that it’s gonna get.”
It took a minute for Jak to process that information. “When did I…?”
“Right before you flipped us over that first time. And you stayed until we came in here.” Jak just stared. “Yer havin’ a blond moment, aren’t ya? Then let me spell it out. That whole lovey-touchy-purry-feely second act that I freaked out in the middle of was you in complete black out. Once you stopped fightin’ yerself, everythin’ worked out just fine. Now do ya believe me?”
Instead of responding, Jak took the moment to really inspect the bite. Even though he’d washed it, he hadn’t really looked at it. Now he could see what self-loathing had blinded him to. Yes, there was a dark bruise still blossoming under the skin, along with eight scabbing fang marks, but nothing else. No torn flesh. No ripped muscle or tendon. There weren’t even other tooth marks marring the skin. It was completely clean and precise despite looking so horrific. On pure impulse, he leaned over and licked lightly at one mark. Daxter shuddered with a sleepy moan, automatically pressing closer.
“Screwin’ me senseless won’t win ya this argument,” he grumbled. “Just so you know.”
The commented was ignored, Jak’s focus entirely centered on his exploration of the much molested neckline. He licked all eight marks and felt satisfied with the taste it left on his tongue. He felt even more satisfied each time a lick was answered with moan or whimper. But perhaps the most satisfying thing of all was that Daxter dropped his shoulder and craned his neck, willingly giving him access to the area.
“You really like this?” he asked quietly, lining all the pieces up in his head. “You really want this?”
For once, there was no snippy comeback or sarcastic comment. There was only a shift and a hard body pressing against him, obviously aroused. “Yes,” Daxter said, voice steady and full of conviction.
With great care, Jak set his teeth once and bit down. He expected the metallic tang of blood to flood his mouth instantly, but all he really tasted was that intoxicating mix of clean skin and something so defying of description it could only be called ‘Daxter.’ His jaw locked, leaving elongate incisors barely buried; just enough to break skin but not harm anything else. He pressed his tongue to the delicate skin, trying to catch more of the unique taste from the initial bite. Daxter keened and rubbed against him, without a question enjoying the sensations the teeth was causing.
Mine. The word pounded through Jak’s brain, searing in his blood. His jaw unlocked and this time could taste the blood welling up, exceptionally turned on because his teeth and tongue were marked by Daxter’s taste the same way his own body was being marked with Daxter’s scent from the constant rubbing. And Daxter…he bore Jak’s own mark in the form of twelve holes in his neck and shoulder, neatly lined up so that there could be no question of their intention. With a start, Jak realized that was all he ever wanted in those moments of intense need—the reassurance that they belonged to one another.
His mouth never left the new addition as he picked Daxter up out of the water and pinned him to the wall. Lithe legs were shifted from the waist they’d clamped around to arms, leaving him fully supported by the hands on his hips and the press of their bodies. The arms wrapped around Jak’s neck constricted sharply when he found his mark and started thrusting again into a more than ready body, each subsequent cry loud and clear in his ear. Each stroke made the claim pulse stronger in his head, made the next thrust a little more urgent. He could taste everything his mate was going through in the blood he kept lapping up. As if the rest of his senses couldn’t already pick up on Daxter’s enjoyment and pleasure, Jak could taste when he did something the other particularly liked, or if something was less enjoyable. He could even gauge how far off climax and abused the knowledge ruthlessly, keeping Daxter desperate, but unfulfilled. Just as the pleading turned into sobbing, Jak’s teeth found their new target.
Daxter screamed, the shrill call of Jak’s name actually echoing through the room, only cutting off when his lungs made a frantic pull for air. Unable to move, to burn off some of the intense pleasure as Jak continued to move strongly inside him, screaming was all he could do. By the time Jak finally came as well, Daxter couldn’t draw enough breath to make a sound. Jak pulled away from his mark to stroke his lover’s face, breathing heavily into his mouth to try and slow the uncontrolled gasping. Each new inhalation came slower than the last until with one last, deep, shuddering breath, Daxter went limp, completely unconscious.
It was only slightly difficult to get them both situated back into the now lukewarm water. Jak started the taps and opened the drain, refilling the tub with skin-prickling hot water. He was pleased that a quick inspection of the exploited stretch of skin showed the newest additions already scabbing over. A damp washcloth was laid over the area to hopefully help ease the pain to come. Then he relaxed back himself. When the water went tepid again, he reluctantly pulled himself back to his feet. Daxter made a sleepy sound this time when he was moved, but Jak hushed him with a kiss. Somehow, he got them both dry and back into bed before collapsing himself. Daxter hummed in contentment when he curled close, both of them utterly oblivious to the sun now shining through the bedroom window.
* * *
Deep seated contentment was a feeling Jak wasn’t used to anymore. He hadn’t felt it in years, so it took a while to figure out that was what he was feeling now—an almost ephemeral sense of peace, like everything was right in the world for once. It was to this that he awoke…and fingers running gently through his hair. It felt nice, almost sending him back to sleep. Then something tickled his ear. He growled playfully and grabbed the offending hand before slowly opening his eyes. Daxter grinned at him, smug and unrepentant.
“Mornin’ sunshine. Plan on joinin’ the rest of the livin’ anytime soon, hm?” Jak sniffed and curled deeper into the bedding. “Aw, don’t be that way, babe. I’m hungry an’ I’d rather not fall down the stairs, if it’s all the same to you.”
“No. Mine.” Jak pulled on the hand he still held, tipping the redhead into his arms with a startled yelp.
“Yeah, yers. But if ya don’t feed it soon, I’m gonna start chewin’ on other stuff.”
“Promises, promises.” Despite the innuendo, Jak was more interested in simply holding. “Five more minutes,” he said softly, burying his nose once more into Daxter’s hair. “Just…five more minutes.” Daxter quieted, letting himself be held. Jak sank back into the contentment, never quite going back to sleep, but not really awake either. After a minute, Daxter shifted and started stroking his side.
“Ya feel better?” The question was quiet, as if trying not to break this moment of tranquility. Jak smiled and pressed a kiss to his partner’s head.
Yes. His arms tightened. Thank you. He felt something relax in the body he held and wondered how long his lover had been awake, worrying. “Are you okay?”
“Hm? Yeah. The usual aches and stuff, is all. Food will make it all better.” Jak tapped a finger against Daxter’s chin in silent request. The redhead sighed and titled his head back, letting Jak see the damage done. The bruise was glorious, stretching from under the jaw to the edge of the shoulder and black as night. Sixteen scabs formed two perfect lines straight through the middle of it. Unable to resist the temptation, Jak leaned forward to nuzzle and kiss the area.
“Don’t get carried away, big guy,” Daxter hummed, though he made no movement to make Jak stop. “An’ no, it doesn’t hurt. It’s just kinda numb an’ I want it to stay that way.”
“You’re not fun, Dax,” Jak teased. “You certainly like it last night…”
“N-Not the point of this discussion.” He shivered in a delightful manner, hands reflexively clutching. “Jak~…”
Jak placed on final kiss and relented, settling back so that he could see Daxter’s face. The irritation at being teased quickly slipped away, but the other wasn’t fast enough to cover up the lingering doubt and worry. He tried to duck his head, only to have his face lifted again. The resistance was minimal and easily crumbled once their eyes met. Daxter finally gave in with a slight huff and spoke.
I love you and I want to help you. But I need to know I have some value, that I’m not a liability, that I won’t be left behind because someone thinks I can’t handle whatever’s going on. I don’t want to be alone again. I don’t want to watch you leave again. I will if I have to, because I love you enough to put what you want above me, but at least let me try. Let me try to be more than even I think I am…
“You’re everything,” Jak murmured, and I love you more than anything. I won’t leave you behind, no matter the reason. I need someone who remembers I’m more than the eco in my blood, someone who’s not afraid of me. Someone who care about me and not just what I can do for them. Everything that’s good in my life is because of you and I won’t let anyone take that away from us.
There was moment of absolute silence before Daxter broke out into a crooked grin. “We’re a matched pair, aren’t we?”
It was infectious, making Jak grin, too. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“I must be a masochist.”
“And yet you stay with me.”
“What can I say? The sex is great, yer not hard on the eyes, an’ I can drink all the free hooch I want. This is the high life, buddy.”
“I’m going to remind you of that the next time Tess corners you about missing inventory.”
Before he could make a suitably scathing reply, Daxter’s stomach growled. Jak would have laughed, except his growled back. They both busted up, snickering and laughing as they pushed each other from the bed. Stumbling into clothes was a mini-adventure in its own right, including lots of bantering, groping, a few smacks to the ass and a missed head shot that knocked Daxter off his unsteady feet and both of them back into the bed, laughing helplessly like loons. It took them two tries to get decent enough to leave the room and wander down to the big bar kitchen in search of food.
Food found them, laid out neatly on the butcher block style island. Bread, fruits, cold meats and cheese, a canister of coffee and another with what looked like juice were waiting patiently in an orderly fashion around a note. They eyed the whole things suspiciously for a while before Daxter got brave and snatched the note up. Jak read over his shoulder.
“Hey boys,
From the sounds of it, the two of you have a very long night, so I made you a big breakfast before I went home. I also put out a sign saying we’d be closed tonight, so don’t worry about trying to run the bar and enjoy a little time off. You both need it.
Oh, and for future reference, the sound proofing doesn’t seem to extend beyond the front room and only works if the windows are closed. I left some concealer behind the bar top if Daxter wants to go out—I’m pretty sure he’ll need it.
Enjoy yourselves! Love, Tess."
“Oh, fuck.”
“That’s what got us inta this mess, if you’ll remember,” Daxter snorted, crumpling the note and reaching for the food. “And if yer good,” he continued after a minute, “I might let ya make it a matchin’ set later, seein’ as we won’t have company for a while.”
Jak stared at him. Specifically, his tongue as it darted out to lick the juice dripping down his hand from the fruit he held. “Oh? And what constitutes ‘good’?”
“You find someone willin’ to finish sound proofin’ the upstairs, ‘cuz it’ll be a damn cold day in hell before I wear a gag.”
The End.
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A/N: Amid much arm twisting and feet shuffling, here it is. My first posting. I figured if I was going to start handing out writing advice, it was time to put up or shut up. So I put up. Hope you enjoyed.
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Marked (Never Again)