Author's note: I started playing Jak2 again recently and accidentally wrote a fic. I feel asleep almost immediately after scribbling the first draft in my notebook and had to really work to decipher the scrawl to bring you this... whatever it is. Also, fun note - my ability to title fics has not improved since the last Jak/Torn fic I wrote all those years ago (i'm so old...)

I'm so sorry.

Set at some point soon after Jak's 'meeting' with the Baron on top of the Palace.

It started as a way of releasing some pent up energy. The KG were everywhere lately, making it dangerous to go outside and Torn had ordered them to stay put anyway, given the trouble they caused last time they went off alone. Torn was still pissed off with Jak, glaring and stomping around the hideout until things had exploded into another argument. Daxter hopped off Jak's shoulder, leaving them to sort things out between them alone, and they'd yelled some more and then there had been kissing - awkward kissing with too much teeth and anger and then… less anger and Jak had realised he was in Torn's room, on Torn's bed and then he just decided to stop thinking.

Afterwards, naked and covered in sweat and other bodily fluids, they lay side by side and stared at the ceiling.

"Well, that was…"

"Yeah."

And that was it for conversation, it seemed. Jak wondered if he should get up, find his own bed, but Torn was making no move to kick him out. In fact, he seemed to have fallen asleep. Jak watched him for a long moment, taking in all the details he'd missed while they'd been fucking.

There was an ugly jagged scar across Torn's throat. It wasn't his only scar but it stood out more than the others. Unconsciously Jak reached out, not really intending to touch it but unable to help himself.

Torn's hand closed around his. "Don't," he said, watching Jak out of a single slitted eye.

"Sorry." Jak withdrew his hand, looking ashamed. "I was just curious."

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," Torn said, gesturing to the myriad scars littering Jak's body.

Jak turned his head away. "Praxis, mostly. And Erol. What more is there to say?" He sat up. "I should go."

Torn sat up too, propping himself up on his elbows and staring at Jak's back. "You don't have to."

Jak looked back at him, considering. "I have nightmares."

"So do I," Torn said, shrugging.

"I might turn into a monster," Jak added.

"So I've heard," Torn replied. Of course he'd heard of 'Dark Jak'. How could he not, after all this time? But he hadn't seen the transformation himself, not that he wanted to. "Look, I'll not force you to stay but, well, the bed's warmer with you in it."

Jak appeared to consider for a moment, then he lay back down. "Maybe for a bit," he said. "It's more comfortable here anyway."

It didn't take long before they were both fast asleep. Their nightmares didn't bother them that night, so the pair slept through until morning, legs tangled together under Torn's sheets, Jak resting his head on Torn's chest.

Daxter hadn't expected to wake up alone. He had fallen asleep on one of the bunk beds while waiting for Jak and Torn to finish arguing yet again, fully expecting Jak to join him afterwards and maybe they'd get out of here, go for a few drinks or something. But it didn't seem like Jak had come back at all last night, and Torn was nowhere to be seen either. The ottsel gulped. He hoped they hadn't killed each other at last. Feeling apprehensive, he wandered the hideout, sure that Jak wouldn't have left without him.

The last place he expected to find him was in Torn's bed, which was why he had left that room until last.

"Hey, rise and shine, Sunshine. Do you know where- Holy Yakkow!" Dater yelped, dodging Torn's dagger as it came hurtling towards him. It clattered off the floor and slid away. Torn wasn't the best aim when he was just waking up apparently, something Daxter was suddenly very grateful for.

"Torn, if you kill my best friend, we're never having sex again," Jak muttered.

Torn lifted his head just enough to see Daxter still gaping at them. "I missed," he said.

"Good." Jak pulled him back down.

Daxter recovered his voice. "Okay. Well. I'll just… leave you guys to it," he said, still stunned. "And, Jak, buddy, just so you know, we're gonna have to talk about this. I mean - Torn? Really?"

"Not going to miss next time, rat," Torn growled. "Get out."

"Going, going. Sheesh…" Daxter left. They could hear him talking to himself all the way down the hallway and down the stairs, something about how maybe getting laid would improve Torn's mood but that was probably too much to hope for. Maybe when they'd had a chance to wake up…

Torn made a noise of pure frustration. Jak snickered almost silently beside him, the shaking of his shoulders the biggest giveaway.

"I don't know how you put up with him sometimes," Torn said.

"He's my best friend," Jak said. "We've been together since we were kids. And just remember, if you hurt him, we're not doing this again." There was a pause. "Um. If you… wanted to, that is." Now that he was more awake, Jak wasn't sure that this wasn't just a one time thing.

Torn watched him, the usually confident teen suddenly unsure of himself. "Doing this even once was probably a bad idea. Doing it again couldn't hurt," he said. "If you're up for it, that is."

Jak smirked, that infuriating expression he had probably imitated from him. "The question is, can you keep up?"

"Brat." Torn rolled over, pinning Jak to the bed. There wasn't a lot of conversation after that.