The rumble of thunder made itself painfully noticeable, and Daxter whimpered, burrowing further under the blankets. He hoped Jak would come back in soon-he was starting to get worried! Another clap, and he felt tears well in his eyes. Damnit, he was crying like a little kid-how old was he, four or nineteen?
A painful memory tore through him, one of being stuck in waves, water pouring into his mouth, scaring him so much he couldn't swim for months afterward. He shook his head, banishing the thought as a door slammed open, hitting the wall. "Dax? Daxter?" "I'm in here," he called weakly, and he almost sobbed with relief when Jak ran in and put his arms around him.
"It's alright, I promise. Look, I found a bunch of candles and lights." The promised supplies spilled out onto the bed, shuffling as Jak shoved them aside and sat down, tugging the blonde-red haired man into his lap. He trembled and nuzzled closer, burying his face in the prince's chest. "Shhh," the green-blonde whispered to him, rocking a little and petting the flame-coloured plume that was Daxter's hair, "You're not in the water, you're in my arms, and you're safe."
Daxter nodded slowly, and loosened his hands again, calming down. But, eventually, the thunder made itself known, and he curled into Jak, both hands tangling into his tunic, face buried in his shoulder. And though most people would've just sat there, Jak responded to all of it-curving his body around him, pulling him closer, threading his hands through his mane. He stopped for a moment to remove their gloves and goggles, his own eco-ring and bag tossed aside.
A soft noise of protest was pulled from the smaller of the two as Jak set Daxter back down on the bed, but when Jak circled the room, lighting candles that smelled like fresh, green grass, he supposed he could wait. He watched as the hero put the flashlights were they could reach them-under the bed, beside the bed, on the floor at the foot of the bed, the bedside tables and so forth-before he peeled back the covers.
Daxter almost uncurled to crawl over, but Jak picked him up as if he were only as heavy as an ottsel and set him at the edge of the bed, taking his shoes off and discarding most of Daxter's apparel. When all the elf wore was a pair of orange boxers, Jak stood and went to his drawer, pulling out one of his older tunics for Daxter to wear like he did every storm. Daxter tugged the blue cloth over his head gratefully and waited as Jak did the same stripdown, leaving his own tunic as it was but ridding himself of baggy-ish white capris and all his belts and accessories. He settled under the covers next to the other and sighed contently, putting his arms around him.
Daxter curled against him again, comforted by his warmth and familiarity. "Shh, Dax. I gotcha." He did, indeed 'have' him, and the soft circular motions of his hands worked wonders for reinstating his nerves. With a soft hum, Daxter murmured, "Thanks, big guy…," and promptly fell asleep.
Jak smiled down at the other fondly and shuffled him closer, untangling his hands from his tunic so he could turn him over and curl against his back. He brushed bright red strands from the nape of Daxter's neck and pressed a kiss there before falling asleep himself, glad he'd gotten there before things got too bad, but also that he selfishly took enough time that Daxter would be clingy. Should he feel guilty for that? Because he didn't-it was the only time he could show gentle affection so openly.
~`.`~`.`~`.`~
Daxter woke up warm and content, which was strange in itself. Strange… but wonderful. He curled closer to the warmth, which in turn nuzzled his neck with a tired noise, tugging him closer, strong arms wrapped firmly around his waist. "Nnnn…m'rn'n…," the warmth muttered, breath fanning across Daxter's neck and shoulder.
A bright smile lit his lips, and Daxter replied, "Mornin', Jakky-boy! What do we got t'day?" Jak raised his head and looked down at Daxter, long hair in a crazily sticking-up mess. "We're off today, actually. Torn said something about a special job he had to do by himself, and told me to stay out of trouble." "Oh. Well, what do you want to do today?" Oh no. Jak knew that tone-the one that read, 'I'm gonna get us in so much trouble!' and usually led to him having a killer headache. He groaned and flopped back down, snagging Daxter's waist and replying against his shoulder, "Today, I want to sleep. I can't sleep with you gone, so I hope you'll sleep too. Please?" Daxter smiled a little and let himself curl back into Jak. "Alright, big guy. I think we can swing that for a little while longer."