Chapter Text
Jax and Ribbit
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It’s a complete accident—and total shock to Ribbit and Jax. It’s after a particularly high-stakes, adrenaline-fueled, fast-paced, adventure. They’d been taken to a temple, deep in some random-generated forest.
Temple-run was fun—especially for the fastest of the group. Ribbit and Jax had left the rest in the dust, running, jumping, dodging. Racing each other.
“First one there gets to deface the losers room!” Ribbit yelled as they’d rushed down the temple steps.
“Ha! That sounds like a challenge!” Jax launched himself off the platform, skipping the stairs entirely. He’s step-in-step with her when he says, “Let’s see what’s faster—a rabbit or a frog!”
The two leave Kaufmo in the dust. He was the first to go. He even made a clown-honking noise as he hit an outstretched branch—something Ribbit and Jax wouldn’t let him live down ever. Next was Kinger. How fast can you really go when you don’t have legs?
Then was Ragatha—missing a turn and impaling on a spike, stuffing spilling and pooling from her back. Which just left… Ribbit and Jax. They were fast. Faster than Caine could even generate the map.
That feeling of running off the edge—realizing that they were both floating into space—and then Caine snapping them back to the circus, fuming that his adventure had gone sideways once again because he’d underestimated them? Because they’d outrun him?
There wasn’t a drug that could replicate a high like that in the real world. Ribbit and Jax had howled with laughter, throwing jokes between the two as they made their way to the couches.
It was just the two of them, like it usually was. Kaufmo had been quick to rush to his room—Ragatha was gone to check on him. Zooble, the newest addition, was already stout in their position to avoid all things adventures and was off who knows where. Ragatha would find them soon enough to assure that the adventure was over. Kinger was in his pillow fortress and wouldn’t be bothering them anytime soon.
Jax and Ribbit had fallen into a routine, of sorts, for adventures like this. The ones that left them with an energy just buzzing in their muscles. Sit on the couch. Debrief about how awesome they were on the mission. Then, once the adrenaline had worn off and their laughter had died down, they’d sit in comfortable silence. Sometimes they’d nap—until one of the others would join them.
Jax was laying, upside down on the couch, his long feet over the top, his hands laid over his stomach. Ribbit was scrunched up in the corner next to him, her feet pulled up to her chest.
It comes quiet, a conversation meant just for the two of them.
“You ever think about why we were given the avatars we were?”
Jax lifts his head. Ribbit has her eyes open, black irises trained on her green, four-fingered hand. She's frowning.
“Whadya’mean?” Jax asks and lifts himself up on his elbows.
“Like—” She pauses, her mouth furrowing into a thin black line. “Why a frog?” Her eyes dart up to him. “Why a bunny, huh?”
“Rabbit,” Jax corrects. Then, with a shrug, “I dunno. Maybe the game had preset characters or somethin’. Besides, being a frog and rabbit sure beats bein a slow-poke clown or stuffed ragdoll, right?”
Ribbit giggles at this—behind that green hand. Jax smiles, scoots closer to her. Not noticeable—not intentional. A shifting to…get more comfortable, nothing more. He swings his legs down from the top of the couch to the opposite side, laying down and taking up two cushions. His head by her feet, purple ears brushing the tips of her webbed toes.
Her head tilts to the side. Even as he closes his eyes, arms propped lazily under his head, feet crossed, she watches him. Slowly, she reaches out her hand.
“I guess I mean like—why these ears, right?” And then she trails her finger from the base of his skull to the tip of his ear.
His body shivers. From the tips of his toes up to the top of his ears. Ribbit doesn’t seem to notice. Because just as Jax is about to open his mouth—to joke or tell her to quit it—she does it again. And again, and again. Jax’s pupils widen, his smile falling into a thin straight line. It felt…he didn’t know. Nobody had ever touched his ears before. He hadn't let anyone touch his ears before. The longer she sat there, stroking, the more that word to describe what this felt like stayed out of reach. Teasing him. Taunting him. What was this feeling?
“Heh—” Ribbit uses both hands now. “I didn’t realize you were so fuzz—”
And then that noise. A grating of the teeth he didn’t even realize he’d started until he feels her fingers hesitate. A rumble emanating from him until those tantalizing fingers lift from his scalp.
Jax jerks himself upright. Silence permeates the circus tent. What...was that? The silence is broken by a snicker.
“Dude,” Ribbit snorts. Jax’s ears stand straight up, eyes wide, pupils tiny. Ribbit leans around him. “Did you just purr?”
A thousand responses flitter through his head. Each one ranging from complete and utter denial—you’re just hearing things—to rage—shut up frog-face—to straight up threats—if you tell anyone…
In the end, he ends up trying to go for all the options, which ends in...
“I—I—no, of course not—why would I? You didn’t—if you tell anyone—” Jax sticks a yellow finger at her, pointing it just under her chin like it was a knife. Ribbit snickers, and her hand reaches up for his ears again. Jax leaps back like those green fingers are made of liquid fire. His back smacks against the edge of the couch. Before he can stop himself, he yelps, “Don’t you dare!”
Ribbit smirks. Her eyes half-lidded, hand still outstretched. “Ooh, or what? That sounds an awful lot like a challenge, jaxy-boy.”
His threats die in his throat. His threats always died in his throat around her. It’s here, in this moment that it comes to him. That feeling--what it had been, what it felt like. It struck him, right to the core, what that word to describe it had been.
It was good. It felt good. Better than the race and outrunning Caines adventure. Better than anything he’d ever experienced in this hell-scape. It had felt so good.
And that produced an entirely different feeling. One he had experienced far too frequently, and knew all to well. That sickening, twisting, ice-like hand grabbed his stomach. His heart started to thud inside that little rabbit chest of his. And he did what he did best.
He ran.
“HA!” Ribbit howls from behind him and soon enough he hears her webby feet rushing after him. “Let’s see what’s faster—the rabbit or the frog!”