Scythe: Hello all, welcome to the first installment of Missing Piece. I hope this idea turns you all on as much as it did for me, and I hope I can convey my idea well enough so that you can picture each scene perfectly. This story is meant to go DEEP into Jak's Psyche. PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS.
Please R&R as it helps me greatly. Flames will not be tolerated and most likely deleted.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any character from the Jak and Daxter trilogy games, I am not getting any profit from this, and it is written purely for the enjoyment of others... and myself. ;)
This story is set sometime randomly in Jak 2... it may possibly continue in an epilogue to Jak 3 if it all goes well...
WARNINGS (but don't let these scare you off): This story goes deeply into the PSYCHE of Jak. Yaoi/slash/shonen-ai, whatever you call it. Don't like it? Why are you reading this? Erol/Jak, Torn/Jak (somewhat one sided), adult themes like mentions of rape, violence, language, SEX, blah blah blah...
Chapter 1 – The addiction
It was pitch black in the Underground headquarters. Everyone had long since gone to bed and even the incessant jabbering of Orange Lightening had been silenced by the grips of sleep. It was the only time that anyone could really rest, nowadays; when the Baron and the Underground were at an impasse of strength and wits and could not surpass each other. Thus, they both settled for regrouping which gave everyone some rest.
To Jak, rest unsettled him. He felt as though he never slept, and when he did it brought night terrors of things he'd experienced, people he'd killed, and things he had never even seen before. It was something no one knew about except his trusted friend Daxter. His furry, orange friend had always wondered how Jak stayed so healthy and fit on the outside, when he was dying and sleep deprived on the inside, though they had both attributed it to the fact that he'd been experimented on and the Dark Eco had somehow made his body much, much more durable. He slept so little, in fact, that even when everyone was asleep, he would take a walk or patrol or go to a bar and try to quell the whisper in his head or the restlessness in his bones.
Or he'd find Torn. Torn was the only other person who knew about the night terrors, who understood them and assured him they would cease eventually. Though he could never completely silence the whispers and the strange urges—the need—to feel alive, Torn was a temporary fix.
Their breath was the only thing, hushed, in the night that could be heard as clothing trailed to Torn's bed from the open doorway from the Underground main hall. The panting and shuffling of movement grew slightly louder as Torn moved his hand away from Jak's mouth for a moment to pull the hero's hips closer for a better angle. Jak grunted softly, resting his forehead on the side of his arm as his fingers tightened around the cool sheets, another hand gripping the bed post for support as he steadily rocked back to meet Torn's advances. Without warning, he was suddenly shoved down from all fours, a hand on the back of his head forcing his face into the soft sheets. Jak closed his eyes, moaning softly with the increased friction. Deep within him, the Beast that so constantly plagued him was quieted and his mind was finally open to some peace. It felt good; the dominance and roughness that Torn used always eased some of the restlessness within him. It quieted the Beast that roared within him, even if only for a few hours, but for this Jak was grateful.
He didn't quite understand this part of him that wanted nothing more than to live and feel alive. It felt as if something within him was hollow and it needed to be filled. The hole began to form one he had escaped from the Baron and only seemed to get bigger with the passing of time. When his heart was racing and the thrill of a life or death situation was presented to him, he felt somewhat whole; more so than he had since he'd gotten here. Racing was always something he was good at and fond of, but now it served as more of an addiction since it was the closest thing to being whole he'd felt since he'd gotten free... Until he and Torn began their mutual, physical relationship, that is. Now this was his addiction.
He had tried the conventional ways of getting a high other than life and death situations like drinking, women, and drugs. Even EcoVent, the ever popular drug that was circling around the city, had only quelled his need for a week before it was no longer enough. E.V. had strange effects on people that they hadn't really had on him, which he attributed to the experimentations with Eco under the Baron's control. Under extended use, people seemed to become mindless and violent, often picked up to join the Krimzon Guard as they did not care whether they lived or died and took easily to orders. Jak had guessed that it was probably a ploy by the Baron to get more sign ups... It certainly made those annoying kiosks useful to Praxis, brainwashing people with the repeated messages urging them to 'do their duty' and 'earn their freedom'. What a crock of shit.
They lay beside each other, Jak staring up at the ceiling, his mind calm, his heart beating quietly in his ears as Torn pulled him closer in his sleep. He didn't mind the intimacy; in fact he found it comforting, oddly enough. He'd tried dating women, sleeping with women really, but nothing had really given him peace of mind. Somehow, Torn had seen through his tough warrior exterior and had one day presented him with a question that no one had ever asked him. Needless to say it sent Jak reeling, shattering his calm exterior with a moment of panic that had given Torn all he needed for an advance.
But now he was thankful for that day. If Torn had not seen through him, they wouldn't be where they were today: Beast quieted and pleasure fulfilled. Jak took a moment to look up at Torn's sleeping face. He was very attractive, he reflected, as his eyes traveled down his delicious looking neck to his toned chest. He couldn't help but reach out and touch it, letting one finger slide down the smooth skin to his flat stomach where his hand decided to rest. There was a soft huff from Torn as his eyes flickered open and turned to meet Jak's deep blue gaze.
The faintest flicker of a tired smile graced his lips as he pulled Jak into a lusty kiss. He returned it willingly, and then pulled himself away from the man, sitting up with a swing of legs over the edge and rubbing his face gently.
"Leaving already?" Torn asked, his voice raspy and deep. His voice was something the blonde had come to greatly desire, especially when it was calling out his name with such passionate need. Just the thought of it sent butterflies to his stomach. He was still for a moment, but he turned and gave the red head an apologetic smile.
"You know I have to. The sun will rise soon..." It was true. No one knew about their relationship, and they kept it tightly under wraps, so Jak often left before sunrise to go wherever it was he went. Torn knew it was rare he went back to his own room...
"Where are you going?" He asked, nonchalant as he shoved himself up on one elbow with a small yawn, though Jak caught the slight narrowing of his eyes.
"I'm going to go check up on Dax. He went to the bar last night and he never called, so I'm sure he's passed out." It was a lame excuse, but it was enough to get him out of the building with no more questions asked. Torn was good at keeping his nose out of other people's business but it seemed that, lately, he was asking more questions than usual.
Fully dressed now, Jak said his goodbye, Torn stealing one more kiss from his soft lips before rolling over and waving him off. Jak stared at his muscled back for one lingering moment before closing the door softly and leaving the Underground.
He took a deep breath once he got outside, shoving his hands into his pockets. The air was stale and smelled of decomposing buildings and dying life. It was not like fresh, delicious air of sunny Sandover that he remembered, but it was as fresh as you could get in this city.
Pulling himself up onto the single person zoomer parked out front, his mind automatically went through the city layouts to get the quickest way possible to the bar. Typically, he sped through the city with a mission to get somewhere or do something, but today, his trip was leisurely and slow as he reflected.
He wondered if there would ever be a time when the emptiness inside of him would be filled, or if he would have live forever with a strange feeling of apathy and insanity constantly creeping up his psyche.
"Hey, hey, hey!!!" someone shouted at him, and suddenly he jerked his zoomer out of the way as he nearly hit someone coming the opposite way.
"Oops.... sorry..." He called over his shoulder, wincing at the glare he received from the citizen. He shook his head some, turning the corner with a sigh. He needed to pay attention.
The Hip Hog Haven Saloon stunk of alcohol, women, and a hint of bile, as it usually did. Dark blue eyes swept the bar until they came upon a furry, orange animal that lay sprawled out on two women passed out on the floor. He raised a brow, unable to help a small chuckle from emerging from his throat. That Dexter, all he cared about was women... He didn't quite understand it or see what the big deal with them was. Although, he stopped, he could remember a time when he felt the same, staring at Kiera like she was a goddess in elven form.
Shaking the horrible memory of his naivety from his head, he reached out and grabbed the sleeping animal, pulling him from his comfy 'bed' and draping him over his shoulder.
Ah, Dax, the one constant in his life that never gave up on him. Cowardly as he was, he was the best friend anyone could ever ask for. Even when Jak had completely lost faith in him after two years of being experimented on, he proved him wrong and saved him from the Baron's dark warrior program. Kiera had said she'd been looking for them, but how much looking could you do being involved with racing and building a machine to supposedly get them back to their time? He ground his teeth against the memory of their reunion in this time.
The look she had given him... The disgust in her eyes when she laid eyes on him after more then two years of him being gone had made him feel ashamed and even guilty of who he was now. He'd tried to explain in nice words the terrible pain he'd been put through, but all that came out was a pathetic line about it being a tough year. He was new at the whole speaking thing. He was used to conveying his emotions with his body and his face, not with his voice, so his communication was a bit... lacking. He did know, however, that she made him angry... extremely angry. How could anyone be so shallow to base someone on appearance alone? So he hadn't really gotten a hair cut, and he hadn't really shaved, but at least he'd showered, cleaned himself up and kept his hair out of his face with his goggles and scarf. All in all, he felt he was pretty damn stylish. Daxter had always been much better with the outward appearance than he had, and he thought he had chosen well when he had put on the garments given to him at the time of escape. Stylish but practical, that's what Dax had always said.
Screaming. All anyone could hear was screaming as it echoed through the holding cells. It terrified Jak. He had never known such pain and suffering as he did within these walls. And now it was his turn. Erol was touching him, hurting him, breaking him. Dirty hands felt as if they slithered all over his body. It was hard to believe there was only two when it felt like his whole body was covered in them. Pain; racing through his veins and all along his skin. Blood; dripping on the ground, leaking from where he bit his lip so hard it bled. Who knew there could be so much blood in one tiny lip? The wall was so cold... It was so dark around him. Desire; why was he getting enjoyment out of this? Why was his body reacting in such ways? His body lied! Just like everyone else! Just like Daxter when he said he'd save him before he even knew it. Betrayal... Lust... Addiction in the making.
Jak awoke with a start, panting, eyes wide, pupils constricted and tightened in pain and fear. Just a dream... he tried to assure himself everything was fine. He touched all over his bed to his lamp and flicked it on, sitting up and hanging his head between his shoulders as he slouched in defeat. Another night terror...? And this time about his repeated rape in the Krimzon Guard Fortress? So why did he feel confused this time? He couldn't remember exactly what had happened in the dream, like most of the times he woke in a cold sweat, but he had begun to wake with a sort of confusion. He didn't understand it. Erol... that son of a bitch.
Another typical day in the slums: Torn was sifting through information on the Krimzon Guard plans, intercepting weapons, sending out men to do his dirty work... But there was no Jak. Jak had not returned from his retrieval of his annoying, furry friend and it was making Torn antsy and irritable. It had been happening like this more lately. He was beginning to get a bit possessive of his shorter lover, unable to keep him from intruding his thoughts and constantly wondering where he was. It was no different than how he normally was, though. That man disappeared for days on end doing tasks for himself and others, and he had never cared before, as long as he showed up when called for another task, but now it was bothering him more than he wanted to admit.
Ashelin had stopped by, also wanting to see Jak, and this set him off even more. She had come around a lot more lately, spending time with Jak and asking him to help her on more assignments. Perhaps he was overreacting. The time was nearing for a final battle, everyone could feel it; it was just a matter of time, so naturally she'd need his help more. He stopped in mid thought. Something was wrong with him. He had never ever let his emotions get in the way of his missions and Underground work... Not even when he thought he loved Ashelin. Torn took a deep, steadying breath. Jak was rubbing off on him far too much. This whole thing started simply as a desire and curiosity that needed to be filled from the first day he'd set eyes on the greenish blonde haired youth. Rugged and wild, all he'd wanted to do was tame that rebellious boy in front of him, and now it seemed that it was much the other way around and Jak had him on a leash. Whether it was intentional, which he doubted, or not, it was rather disturbing to him that one so simple as Jak could reel him in so easily.
But was he so simple? Since the first day that he arrived he had known something was different about the boy. He held some sort of powerful and commanding presence that he had never felt with anyone before. It was like a challenge thrown in his face and he had been completely taken in by it, ready to conquer it. However, it has proven to be a challenge indeed. Never had his petty wants conflicted so much with his duty. At some times, he wished that everything was over and that he could steal away with Jak and never return...
Erol stared out and down onto the streets of Haven City from the Palace, eyes searching every little ant that was a person as they crawled meaninglessly around to do their menial tasks. His lip twitched in slight annoyance. Why was he trying so hard to save a people who only destroyed themselves? Why did he serve an incompetent, power hungry fool who only acted upon selfish desires to further his own agenda? Oh, right, because the luxuries here in the palace were far better than the slums below. Alright, so he was also selfish and only wanted to further his own agenda. He snickered at the thought. He and the Baron were really two peas in a pod in the garden of self importance. But how could he give up the riches and power he had for a low life where his safety was hardly guaranteed past his own self defense? He had no faith in the buffoons of the Krimzon Guard who had repeatedly failed him in his orders to bring Jak to him alive.
Oh how he had hated the day when his precious experiment slipped through his fingers like sand.
The dark eco pumped into his little experiment at surprising amounts. Many times he had thought this would be the last treatment and that his prized experiment would die. When the Baron had asked to see the progress they had made, Erol had felt a spike of fear. Recently, their treatments had done nothing anymore, his eco levels remaining the same. Though they had glimpsed the monster that they were hoping to create, the excitement had died when the scientists had deemed him unstable and unable to control his dark side. It was all very bothersome.
Now, here he was again, watching with hungry eyes as Jak arched and howled in pain as the dark eco was injected into his body. Violet black sparks radiating and coiling out from around his body like a small fireworks display of the best kind. He couldn't help the smirk that graced his lips.
The dark eco faded, and the machinery lifted away from the lithe body on the table. A computer voice filled the room with the expected status he'd been getting too much lately.
"Dark eco injection cycle complete; Bio readings nominal and unchanged."
"Hmph. Nothing. I was informed that this one might be different." The Baron said, looking down at Jak, angrily, and then to his Commander expectantly.
Erol sighed slightly to himself in annoyance before looking up to meet his superior's gaze. "He is surprisingly resistant to your..."experiments," Baron Praxis. I fear the Dark warrior program has failed." There was a moment of silence as the Baron paced for an instant, thinking. One could practically see the anger sparking off of him, almost like the dark eco trails that had sparked off of Jak moments before.
The Baron suddenly reeled around and growled, grabbing Jak by the hair and forcing his head up. "You should at least be dead with all the dark eco I've pumped into you!" And with that he let his head fall with a familiar thunk, turning again to pace once more.
"What now?" Erol asked, a little impatient. "Metal Head armies are pressing their attacks. Without a new weapon, my men cannot hold them off forever."
Perhaps his impatience was not best acted upon, for the Baron turned to give him such a glare that made even Erol quietly step back.
"I will not be remembered as the man who lost this city to those vile creatures..." He roared, making Erol step back once again as he advanced. "Move forward with the final plan. And finish off this... "thing" tonight." He liked the sound of that. Erol could definitely take that and twist it to mean whatever he damn well pleased and of course he would take that opportunity. He had been waiting for the moment for the Baron to say these glorious words. It was like a gift from the heavens.
For so long, Erol had been by his prisoner's side, watching him struggle through eco treatments and watching him prevail every time. His strength intrigued him, taunted him. He wanted to break him. He had never been so excited by such a challenge and his obsession with his nameless experiment grew with every passing moment.
"As you wish." He said to his ruler, a plastic smile gracing his lips to appease Praxis. As the Baron turned to leave, he in turn, turned to his little play thing and leaned over him, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him to attention. The man's eyes beneath him flickered slightly as he weakly stared up at his torturer. "I'll be back later," he said with a smirk, giving him a once over with his hungry eyes and then pushing him back down onto the table, briskly walking to catch up with his superior.
But his promise was lost to the wind, for just minutes after he had left, alarms were sounded and a computerized voice filled the metal walls of the Krimzon Guard Fortress. Though the Baron kept walking, figuring his guards would catch whatever prisoner had escaped, Erol stopped.
A sinking feeling gathered at the pit of his stomach, weighing him down as time slowed before his eyes. He felt as if he were moving in slow motion or in a dream as he turned and ran through what felt like glue back towards where he'd come. It wasn't possible that Jak could escape with those restraints, but he couldn't help the deep rooted fear of his precious toy slipping from his grasp. Surely it was some other prisoner trying feebly to run from the guards, but he had to be sure; He had to know so that his mind could be at peace and his plans would not be foiled.
Part of him, though he could not understand why, was deeply attached to his little toy, and it was unlike anything he'd ever felt in his sick, twisted career of the Baron's dirty work. Part of him was undeniably reliant on that face twisted in pain, pleasure, and fear to feel the thrill of power he had come to be so addicted. It was a like his own personal brand of EcoVent.
He quickly entered the pass code into the pad lock and the door slid open. It seemed all too slow as inch by inch of the room was revealed to show him that his greatest fear had come true. His prisoner had escaped. He ground his teeth so hard he could hear them scraping like metal in his ears as he suppressed and angry, frustrated scream. Whirling around, he quickly snapped orders to the Krimzon Guard to find him and bring him back alive at any cost. He would get him back if it was the last thing he'd do.
Erol took in a steadying breath to keep himself from getting angry at the memory. His eyes searched even harder below now, as if spotting his prisoner below would calm him. He had learned soon after that memory that his prisoner's name was Jak, and it made him all the more angry that he could not bring it from the prisoner himself. He had spent months trying to get his name from him. However, he had to smile at one accomplishment. Before and even during the treatments, it appeared their new prisoner had no voice. He could make small sounds, but no words, nothing louder than a peep, but thanks to the treatments and 'private sessions,' his little pet had found a voice, and when he did, Erol was instantly hooked. It was where his addiction had started and rapidly snowballed from.
He'd spent many nights making that voice call out his name, training him to need him. He'd reveled in Jak's attempts to stay quiet and make as little noise possible. He'd reveled in his feeble attempt to meet his gaze with his own, fire filled, rebellious ones. He'd reveled in his pain.
"I want to hurt you just to hear you screaming my name..." He said as his fingers touched the window, a smirk touching his lips as he ran his tongue along the contours of his smooth teeth, taking enjoyment in some private joke. "You will come to me in time..."
Jak slung his gun onto his back, picking up the skull gems when he saw the coast was clear. Finally, he could go back and take a load off.
"Good work, Jak." He heard Torn's voice over the tiny little intercom that floated next to him. "Destroy the last of the shipment and return to the Underground." And just like that, the intercom was gone and tucked back into... wherever it was that it had come from. He had no idea how that thing worked, but it must have been attached to him somewhere and monitored his process. He couldn't quite wrap his head around it, just like he couldn't quite wrap his head around what his world had become. It was so very technologically advanced and utterly mind boggling. However, he caught on quickly and at least knew how to use everything. Fixing it, though, that was another story.
He quickly finished off the shipment, making his way back to the city walls and, once inside, set off towards the Underground. It was rare that he found himself wanting to celebrate, but for once, he wanted to go out and drink with Daxter and just be himself.
"I like that plan," Daxter said, scurrying around to sit on his other shoulder. "It's been way too long since you let yourself have some fun. I know some ladies who are more than willing to show you a good time, too, eh, Jak? Eh?" Jak just rolled his eyes, but smiled at his friend's enthusiasm. Dax always knew how to make him smile. "Why don't we invite everyone from the Underground, hmm? It'll be like one big party! And finally, that Torn guy can loosen up and take a load off, if you know what I mean."
At the mention of the red head, Jak's world went out on tilt. Though they kept walking and Daxter kept talking, he was lost in thought as the whispers in his head seemed to get just a tad bit louder. Was it already time to see Torn again? It had been weeks since their last 'meeting,' the Underground swamped with work suddenly as the Baron had thought up some crazy new plan that Jak didn't particularly care about. All he wanted to do was get his hands around Praxis's neck... that's all he wanted.
Oh, what he'd do when he got his hands around that porker's neck. The disgusting 'dark warrior' plan was no doubt one of his favorite plans, even though it had failed, and the thought of how many people he killed with the program before he'd found Jak made his blood boil. He felt his anger manifesting itself in the very core of his being crackling and violently churning, waiting for release.
"Uh, Jak... Jak?" Daxter's panicked voice broke through the dark, purple haze of his mind and brought him to. He looked at his hands, blueish white skin and black claws fading away as he calmed.
"Er... Sorry about that." Jak said sheepishly.
"What's up with you, huh buddy? Thinking about Praxis again?" Daxter asked, tilting his orange head when their eyes met.
"Yeah... I just... I get so angry when I think about everyone who had to go through what I went through. That... that bastard doesn't even understand!" Violet and black crackled through the air for an instant with his outburst and Daxter stared at him, almost in fear.
"Yeesh, you really do need a night off big boy. It's about time we cash in some favors with Krew, don't you think? Free drinks are the least he could do!"
"Yeah, yeah. I hear you, but we've got to check in with Torn first, remember?"
"Eck, don't remind me."
They arrived quicker than usual to the Underground, just as the sun was setting. Daxter ran off to take care of some other business and make sure everything was a go at the Hip Hog Haven Saloon, which left Torn and Jak to themselves. They sat in silence as Torn wrote on some files, marking some as completed and others as in progress. Jak could only guess that they were mission reports and plans. The whole process of being in charge was a little complicated and boring to him. He couldn't imagine himself doing petty paper work and filing reports and reading reports and... ugh, it was exhausting just to think about it. In that sense, he had to admire Torn for his determination and organization skills. Kiera had told him that he'd needed to learn some way back in Sandover one time. He didn't understand at the time, but now he did, even if he still couldn't really do it himself.
"Where'd the fur ball go?" Torn's voice was suddenly right next to his ear. He turned to meet his gaze, his eyes flicking to the door momentarily.
"Out. He's making preparations for some... thing tonight. I'm not quite sure. He's headed to Krew's."
"Hm..." Torn didn't seem to like the answer. "Doing more of his selfish tasks, are we?" Jak stared at him for a moment. Was he really hearing this?
"What business is it of yours? And no, for your information, we're just going out to have a few drinks tonight." Jak said abrasively. He was easy irritable today and Torn wasn't helping. Torn didn't take the bait, rolling his eyes.
"Don't go AWOL on me, we need you in the morning, got it?" Torn stared him down. Jak felt the need to assert himself, growling slightly at him. Torn acted as if he owned him, just because he was part of a greater cause didn't mean he should be treated as if he could be tamed. The air gently crackled between them, but Torn didn't move.
But wasn't that what he liked? Wasn't that what he seemed to need lately; someone or something to tame the wild Beast within him? His anger instantly died. He sighed and Torn pulled him into an embrace.
"You seem a little tense..." He said, concerned, and gently nudged his hair with his nose. It smelled of the sea and trees and reminded him of sunshine. He never knew how Jak could smell so impossibly intoxicating even after a long day of fighting. And unlike others, he didn't pick up the stench of this city.
"I guess so..." He replied, frowning a bit and leaning into the man. "I'm just having a bad day." And they left it at that, pulling apart from each other and looking into each other's eyes.
The urge to kiss Jak was overwhelming. His eyes drew him in like no one else's. They could be such a soft, light blue at one moment, or dark and violent blue the next according to his mood. In that way, Torn often associated Jak's eyes with the sea, tossing and turning with his emotions and just as expressive; a sea at which he was lost without a paddle, not knowing which way led back to safety.
He closed the distance between them, pulling Jak closer. His companion didn't resist, letting the taller man assert his dominance in such a simple way. Perhaps the reason Jak was so enthralled by being dominated was because he was so powerful in every other way—undefeated by races and metal heads and duals—that the thought of someone being able to control him, even a little, was a serious turn on. It was just a theory Torn had come up with, but it seemed pretty accurate. Even if it wasn't completely the picture, it had a great deal to do with it, he was sure.
He pushed Jak against the wall, hoisting him up so the other could wrap his legs around his waist, and slid his hands underneath his shirt, again familiarizing himself with the muscled curves of his waist, chest, and lower back. Their kiss deepened as Jak let out just the softest moan, and it was enough for Torn to be completely swept away. That voice... Precursors, that voice was so addictive it nearly drove him mad. He met his needs with a grinding of their hips and Jak gasped softly. Torn licked his lips, pulling his hips to meet another thrust of his hips, and in that moment he cursed the existence of clothing. Another moan, and now Torn was instantly fumbling with Jak's pants, tugging at the irritable things and cursed the many belts that covered his shirt and secured his pants.
"What the..." Came an all too familiar voice. They both gasped and separated quickly, stumbling away from each other. Daxter stared at them with wide eyes in disbelief, completely dumbfounded by the sight before him. Jak and Torn? No way... not in a million years would Dexter ever have...
Torn was incredibly lucky it had just been Daxter. Jak could deal with him by his self and Torn relaxed a little knowing that it happened to be the loud mouthed fur ball that had walked in on his private time, rather than someone else... as long as he kept his mouth shut. He smirked, tucking a dread lock behind his ear, and walking past Daxter, whispering low for only Daxter to hear.
"Tell anyone and I'll send you gift wrapped to the Krimzon Guard, myself." And with that, Torn walked out, leaving a pissed off Daxter, and an embarrassed but irritable Jak alone.
"What the hell was that?" Daxter demanded, pointing off in the direction Torn had gone.
"What? I don't know... Torn?" Jak said, shrugging it off, his tone frustrated.
"Don't act all smart with me, pal. What's goin' on here? I walk in and my best bud is getting' felt up by Mr. High-and-mighty-tattoo-face? When did this happen?"
"I don't know..." He sighed, exasperated. He really wasn't ready to explain this to Daxter. "We just... happened?" His furry friend stared at his feeble attempt to explain things.
"So, what? You're in love with him or something?" His voice rose. "Why didn't you tell me? I didn't know you were..." He trailed off, gesturing at Jak, He didn't really know what he was getting at or how to say it nicely.
"Go ahead... Say it. I dare you." Jak growled, narrowing his eyes. Jak knew it to be true but he didn't want to hear it, wouldn't hear it.
"...Gay." Daxter countered, letting the world roll from his tongue.
"What business is it of yours anyways, Dax? All you care about is..." Jak started, but Daxter cut him off.
"What business is it of mine? Oh I don't know, Jak, I'm your best friend, I thought. Why didn't you just tell me? I risked my life savin' your ass from Porkin' Praxis up there and you can't even at least act like you trust me?" This argument was getting ridiculous. How dare he mention his imprisonment so casually as if its grounds against him? How dare he sit there and demand things of him when he, himself, was confused and still coping with what happened? Angry whispers echoed in his head. His entire being felt empty and only full of hatred and destructive power. His anger spiked and the change came quickly, the air crackling with violet and darkness.
"You don't have a clue what I've been through!" His voice was now gravely, something that always occurred with his change.
"I would if you'd just frickin tell me!" Daxter replied, flinging his hands out in exasperation. "All you ever do is get angry, turn into an eco freak and go beat up bad guys. How about showing a little love to the guy who risked his tail?" With that, Jak's eyes went a new shade of black. How had this simple coming out turned into such a disgustingly upsetting fight? All of the tension and unspoken troubles between them had finally surfaced.
"Is that what I am Daxter? An eco freak? Is that what I am to you and everyone else in this damn city?" He shoved past Daxter, pushing up the stairs with heavy feet and panting as his heart raced and anger coursed through his veins. His world was tinted purple. He slammed a fist into a nearby wall and suddenly, he gripped his head, shuddering and growling in pain as he reverted back to his normal self. "Ugh..."
The bar was only that much more inviting now, his head filled with doubts and anger threatening to well up and take over again. He felt drained and emptier than he had ever felt in a long time. He hung his head low, staring at the bar top and the shot glass that he spun around slowly between his finger tips.
"Would you like another? Krew said to get you anything you wanted..." It was Tess. She had taken a part time job for Krew as bartender to earn a bit of extra money. "You don't look so good... Did you get in a fight with Daxter? He was supposed to come..." There was a hint of disappointment in her voice, and it pained Jak and made him feel guilty to the core. He'd overreacted, he knew it. He was supposed to be celebrating and blowing off some steam tonight, not wallowing in self pity, tipsy at a bar. He looked up at her, his blue eyes apologetic.
"Aw, I'm sorry Tess..." He said meekly. "It's my fault... I'm just having a bad day and I took it out on Dax. I know he was looking forward to seeing you." Despite everything, she smiled at him, fixed him another drink and patted him on the shoulder.
"Jak, everyone has their days." And just like that, she'd forgive him and his anger was gone.
He smiled a bit, for the first time tonight, and perked up some. He'd apologize, first thing, to Daxter next time he saw him. Behind him, the bar doors opened as more customers came in; it was getting louder and more crowded. With the rise in energy his spirits rose as well, and as the night went on, Jak felt a little better about everything that happened.
"So this is where you ran off too." A familiar voice purred in his ear. He turned on his spinning bar chair, blinking at Torn. The shorter male grinned and clapped him on the back.
"Hello! I didn't know you were the drinking type!" Jak said, the smell of alcohol reeking on his breath. Torn rose his eyebrows, waving his hand in front of his face.
"Jeez, Jak. How much have you drank? And no, I'm not really the drinking type, I just wanted to see how things went with Daxter." And just like that, Jak's mood went back to hell. He explained the situation, running a hand through his hair and gesturing dramatically as he explained, in drunken detail, every line spoken and every heart broken. He sighed, banging his head on the table. "Jak, you two will be fine. There's no need to get so upset about it. Hate to say it, but as much as I hate the guy, you two make quite the inseparable pair. I've never seen a friendship so strong. Come back to the Underground, alright? Sober up and you can talk with him in the morning."
"Ok, ok." Jak waved him off. "Just let me finish my drink and I'll head back in a minute." Torn looked at him skeptically, but then his gaze softened as he appraised the man in front of him. He nodded, then left.
In a dimly lit corner of the room, a couple of Krimzon Guards, off duty, played a game of cards, roaring in a drunken excitement. All eyes were on the cards dealt and each others faces as a hefty sum was bet on the line. Laughter and good spirits permeated through the air...And the fiery haired man slammed his cards down.
"Read 'em and weep, boys." They all groaned in disbelief. It wasn't possible. They'll all put so much on the line!
"No way. One card higher! That's hardly fair..." One cried, holding his head in his hands. Everyone laughed. The bar was emptying now, as it was close to odd, early hours of the morning. It appeared there were just a few stragglers and the group playing cards. They settled, the winner taking his share and looking around the table with a smirk still on his face. It appeared it was time for another set of drinks!
"Hey bartender! Another round here!" Someone said, before the fiery haired man could get to it. Good man. He knows when to order and speak up. He peered up to search for the blond waitress, raising a brow expectantly. His trained, Krimzon Guard eyes caught sight of familiar greenish blond hair. In and instant he stood, his chair hissing and screeching as it was pushed out behind him, hands pushing down on the table in disbelief. The other Guards followed his gaze as he took a step around the chair and started advancing slowly behind the familiar back.
"Hey... isn't that...?" Someone began, their voice rising slightly in matching disbelief. The standing Guard silenced them with a wave of his hand. "But Erol," he tried again.
"Shut up. Go home." The fiery red head said in a low, hushed tone, glaring at them. Confused, they looked at each other, but obeyed. Erol continued his advance. Could it be true? Could, by idiotic chance, he be in the same bar as his ever sought object of obsession? He felt his breath quicken with excitement. So long had he wished just to confront the man and take him back to the lab. He'd run through the possibilities in his head over and over and over again, but he had never imagined it could be as easy as this. How had he missed him when he'd come in? Surely he hadn't slipped by without his noticing? If that were the case, he feared his senses for the hunt were dulling. No, he didn't believe that one bit. He must have been there before, sitting in the same, dark corner, easily missed. A smirk slowly pulled the corner of his mouth up. He couldn't believe his uncanny luck.
"Hello... Jak." Visibly, Jak stiffened. "Oh... You know my voice well."
Jak's eyes were glued to the table, his heart beat quickening, his pupils contracting in fear, his palms instantaneously clammy. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end as he slowly turned to see the man of his nightmares staring back at him.
"Erol..." It was all he could muster. Something inside of him roared and the undeniable urge to kill flared within. His breath quickened as Erol smirked that familiar smirk that had terrorized him even when he was awake. He flinched when the man in front of him reached out and tilted his chin up, forcing them to meet eye to eye. Where the hell was Tess? He swallowed a bit, not really knowing what to do. He had rehearsed so many times in his head what he would do to Erol once he got a hold of him, so why was he so paralyzed? He'd never been afraid confronting him before at races, so why now? Because he was alone?
"Why don't we step outside... get some fresh air?" Without a word, he walked out with him. Just like that, he'd stood up and calmly walked out back into the alley behind the Saloon. What was he thinking? He wasn't... he was intoxicated and his thoughts were impaired. "It's been so long..." The whisper sent chills down his spine that made him shiver.
"What do you want?" Jak finally said, looking at him with accusing eyes. But he didn't wait for an answer. His anger suddenly bubbled up within him, all the memories flooding back to him as suddenly as if a flood gate had been opened. He threw himself at Erol in attack. The fiery red head blocked a punch, retaliated, swept his feet out from under him. Jak, impaired as he was, still was able to catch himself of his hands and push himself up, flipping backwards to land somewhat steadily onto his feet. Erol was on him in an instant, swinging and kicking. Jak spun, tossing him to the side, deflecting effectively. It went on like that for what seemed like hours, but in reality was only a few minutes, until they were both panting and glaring at each other.
"Come on Jak... is that all you've got? I know you've got more rage built up inside you than that... drunk or not, you should be an even match for me. I'm hardly breaking a sweat." Erol taunted, and then it began again until Jak finally landed a good, solid punch to his face. Erol stumbled back, staring somewhat surprised at the panting, angry Jak in front of him. He wiped the trickle of blood from his chin and spat to the side.
Jak's heart was pounding. He felt incredibly alive in this moment, face to face with his once captor and somehow his head was incredibly clear. He'd landed a punch, so he could definitely do it again. In an instant, he was pinning Erol against the wall, a hand around his neck and staring into his eyes so deafeningly maddened he swore he was going to rip his throat out right there when Erol smirked. Something inside of him flared, and suddenly he was kissing Erol, more passionately then he had ever kissed Torn. Erol seemed to be expecting it somehow, but he didn't care why or how in this moment as Erol kissed him back, switching their positions and pinning Jak against the wall.
Jak groaned, shoved into the rough, metal wall and shuddered in excitement. Why was this happening? He didn't have time to think as Erol was soon scrambling to pull his clothes off. Jak joined him, tearing desperately at the red head's clothes as well, flinging them from his body and urgently locking their lips together again. He sucked on the taller man's tongue, moaning into his mouth when familiar hands traveled up along his chest and then around to his back, pulling him closer. He could taste the coppery flavor that still lingered from the blood. His body felt so wonderfully hard, flush up against his.
"Ugh... D-don't stop." Jak gasped, clutching at Erol's back and clawing deep marks there. Their harsh breathing filled the alley. It felt so amazing! Jak was euphoric, his limbs shaking and quivering with need as Erol took him against the wall. It hurt, and he couldn't help but tangle his fingers into fiery hair as he was dominated. Soft but territorial lips attacked his throat; kissing, sucking, licking, biting. Hands held onto his hips so hard they were already bruising, and Jak's voice trembled in a pleasure so deep he could barely force the words out. "Erol... Nn... I can't..."
That voice. It was his undoing, always. The red heads eyes closed in pure satisfaction as he reveled in the moment he'd be waiting for, for so very long. It was like music to his ears, and as he used this delicious body, he knew that his patience had all been worth while. He had trained this body so well that even Jak didn't know why it was happening just yet. It was genius. Softly, he started to laugh.
So utterly spent and satisfied, Jak looked up in confusion and fear at Erol, who still had him against the wall, his legs wrapped weakly around the taller man's waist. His breath was harsh, sweat dripping slowly off of his forehead, down to the ground below. He swallowed hard.
"Why..." He couldn't even begin to understand the current situation. Here he was, pinned against the wall by the man who plagued his dreams, day and night. Here he was, completely satisfied and fucked by the man who put him through hell for two years. Here he was, feeling completely whole by the man he'd sworn to kill.
"Because you need me, Jak." Erol said, smirking and pulling out and away from him, grabbing his clothes and putting them on as if nothing had even happened. Jak grabbed his clothes, not taking his eyes off of Erol. What did that mean? He needed Erol? "And I need you." Erol stated, completely surprising Jak again. Deep down, Jak knew he was right. But why? The red head grabbed him and kissed him once more, though this time the kiss was softer... there was something behind it. But just as quickly as it had come, it was gone... and so was Erol.
Jak was left, alone, to mull over the night in complete darkness. How the hell could this have happened? He felt like everything he knew was suddenly a lie.
Scythe: Eh heh.. How'd you like the first installment? Really long, right? I hope I made the sex scenes censored enough so it wasn't graphic but you still got a really good idea about what was going on. I tried to make the dream sequence really choppy like real dreams, hope you all understood it... lol.