Hush

 

AN: I never really planned on posting this. I even forgot about it for a while. But in light of the face that the sequel to this fic and "Fun & Games" is almost done, I thought I would post it.



WARNING: Go back and read the warning from chapter one. That still applies. It applies a lot. And I refuse to apologize for my fuzzy addiction, so I can't say I'll be able to feel too bad if you fry your brain with my ottsel smut ^_^



Characters: Belong to Naughty Dog. I hope they count that on their "to be thankful for" lists.



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Deep purring, punctuated from time to time by sharp squeaks and cries, echoed around the dim room.  The rustling of blankets and a gentle sucking sound were the only other interruptions of the quiet—until the pleading started.

     “Ah, Jak, Jak, please… lemme move!  Come on, please, I said!  Damn ya, it’s not fair!”  It was half curse, half breathless laugh, all frustration and amusement.  “Shit—I’m not gonna beg, you ass!”

     The smirk was visible in brilliant blue eyes, even if the mouth was too preoccupied to form words.  Begging already seemed to be occurring, did it not?

     “Fuck!  Just ‘cuz yer bigger than me, think ya can—aah!  Again, do that again!”  There was a higher pitched wail as Daxter dug small fingers into rumpled sheets and green-blonde hair, tried to force his friend closer.  “I hate you!  I hate you and I love you and I—please, Precursors, let me move!”

     Jak chuckled around the slippery length in his mouth.  Big hands held narrow hips down with ease, firmly but gently pinning a squirming form.  The ottsel could shout all he wanted.  He was going nowhere until Jak said otherwise.  Little hands could jerk at his ears and hair until they stung.  Long, clawed feet could thump against his shoulders, a thick tail could all but wind around his neck.  The racer just smiled, let his tongue trail where it would.  Gave an occasional suck.

     “Jak, c'mon, p-please.”  There were no more insults or expletives.  Pure and simple plea bargaining followed immediately in their wake.  “What can I do?  Wadda'ya want?  Please!”

     A lithe, writhing body spread on a soft pillow, better than a silver platter.  What a sight.  A hot, firm length, barely a mouthful, nose buried in buttery yellow fur like satin.  He was growing to love that musky taste.  It was really too bad to let it all end.

     Coherent pleas soon turned to unintelligible animal sounds, half strangled sobs.  Frantic.  Desperate.  With a sigh Jak pulled back, abandoning twitching, widespread thighs and wet, shiny fur.  He changed his hold, and then their positions. 

     His head was on the pillow this time.  The quivering, tear-streaked ottsel crouched on his chest.  Strong hands herded Daxter into place; he eagerly jumped to comply.  Bigger back paws braced in the sheets, claws digging in, wide apart; hands high on the pillow, body stretching over Jak’s head.  Blue eyes met and held for a brief moment before helping hands drew tense hips into position.

     A brief lick to moist, glistening flesh hovering just there.  “Go ahead.”

     With a whine of relief, Daxter began to move.  Jak didn’t care how rough he was; he was too small and weighed too little to be any real concern.  Fluid thrusts into a willing mouth, unimpeded this time, grew faster and stronger every moment.  A hot tongue curled and stroked, incredibly slick and sweet.  Spine bowed in a perfect arch over his friend’s face, claws ripped thin fabric, ears listed back, sharp teeth bared as the ottsel moved. 

     Jak tried to breathe in time with the undulating movements, found it difficult with a solid face-full of soft fur.  Difficult, but not impossible.  It wouldn’t be much longer now anyway.  A hand curled around one rigid, thrusting hip, trailed up to comfortingly pet down raised hackles on that supple back.  Teasing fingers slipped between spread legs to gently stroke the softest fur, the most tender places.

     One last strong pull of lips and tongue, one more shove and Daxter gasped, froze, then keened loudly.  Quick hands kept him from falling forward as shaking limbs gave out, prevented Jak from choking on a mouth and nose full of fur.  All in all, a most satisfying experience.

     The racer smiled, licked his lips surreptitiously.  “You okay?  Come on, up and at ‘em.  I need to breathe.”

     Daxter finally whimpered, weak and pitiful, as he was lifted.  “I think my eyes are crossed…”

     Jak chuckled, a warm sound.  “Don’t get used to that.  You won’t be able to be that rough when you’re big again.”

     Still shivering, eyes exhaustedly closed, Dax nevertheless managed a small smirk.  “When I’m back ta normal again, I’m buyin’ you friggin’ cuffs, pal.  B’sides.  What if I actually wanna choke ya?  It’d serve ya right, ya sadistic, teasin’ jerk!”

     “Aww.  Sticks and stones, Dax.”

     The limp orange ottsel was tenderly tucked against a warm chest, over a steadily beating heart.  He curled there for long moments, cooing and contented.  However, Daxter was not one to leave his best friend hanging.  Soon he roused himself, flowed down Jak’s larger form like water down smooth rocks.  Fur slipped and trailed along bare skin, leaving pleased shivers in its wake.

     He puddled in Jak’s lap, draped carefully around the proud length jutting before him.  No use being intimidated by the size; he was getting to be a pro at this.  Small hands wrapped around the base.  Not so hard.  A rough tongue delicately lapped the dripping tip.  More than rewarded by quiet groans.

     Big hands dug into the blankets as an industrious mouth went to work.  Licking and slurping were given necessities but more than made up for by enthusiasm.  Great care was taken to keep sharp canines out of the business, at least as much as possible.  A satisfied almost-growl rumbled as the ottsel worried over his prize, tried to fit as much of the smooth head as possible between his jaws.

     Jak almost laughed, turned to a gasp at the last moment.  “Ah!  Damn it, Dax…  You want me to last at all?”

     “Sorry.”  A scratchy stroke of the tongue to catch stray trails of saliva and Daxter smirked, the wet fur around his mouth more than obvious.  “Dunno if it’s just cuz I’m furry now, but… man, babe.  Ya taste fantastic.”

     It was all downhill from there.  A losing battle on the racer’s part.  He tried not to shift, squirm, buck, disrupt the smaller being in his lap.  White knuckles gripped the scuffed headboard, teeth gritted, chorded muscles clenched.  Heeding the warnings Daxter pulled back.  A bit.  When it came the gush of hot fluid splattered his muzzle, but didn’t catch him unawares.  Far from it.  The little pink tongue darted, savoring the flavor as well as the moment. 

     A long pause, silence but for contented licking sounds.

     “Shit.”  Jak finally managed a breathless chuckle, glancing down at Daxter still content between his legs.  “You’re a mess.”

     A huge, cheeky grin from the ottsel, ropes of white dripping from his face to land in the thick ruff of a narrow chest.  “Maybe so, pal, but… mmm.  S’nice.  Just wanna roll in it.  Get it all in my fur… smell like you all night…” 

     Jak barely held back a groan, sweeping tissues off the table by the bed with one hand.  The other gathered his smaller friend closer.  “Where did you learn to talk filthy like that?”

     Wide-eyed and innocent, he allowed his face to be wiped dry, if not clean.  “It comes natural ta bad boys like us, Jak.  You should know that.  A stud like you, with yer deep voice… you should be able ta make ‘em squeal just by openin’ yer mouth.”

     “I’ll make you squeal, you little monster.”  Tucking the ottsel back to his chest, still damp with sweat, Jak petted calmingly down a long, lithe back. 

     Daxter quickly collapsed, spread himself across the warm expanse of skin and let himself rise and fall with deep breaths, be stroked by capable hands.  However, teasing fingers didn’t stop at a slim waist.  They ghosted down slowly switching tail, up ticklish back foot, dipped back between spread legs.  There was an immediate purr of interest, then a startled, bashful squeak.  A big palm on the small back kept self-conscious squirming concentrated, didn’t allow any movement away.

     “Aww, c’mon, Jak…”  The ottsel struggled faintly.  Button nose heated in a budding blush.  “Knock it off, big guy.  Feels… weird, right there.”

     A positively evil smirk preceded a lengthy explore, the pads of strong fingers pressing and rubbing, slowly learning.  Soon long back legs extended slightly, raising a small backside higher.  The thick tail rose and arched almost on its own, allowing easier access.

     Low moans tangled with stuttered purrs, gasps and groans.  Furry ears drifted back as tiny fingers scrabbled for purchase and found none.  “Jak… Jak, please!”

     “Please what?”  Playful, teasing.  “Stop?  Or more?”

     “Nnh… I don’t know!  It feels—it’s too—”

     Sympathetic, the racer halted.  “Hey, it’s fine.  It can wait.  We’ve got plenty of time, right?”

     A relieved sigh.  Daxter dropped back to his stomach gratefully.  “Yeah.  Yeah, we sure do…”  He quietly cleared his throat.  A quiet admission then, barely a whisper.  “Gonna like it too much.”

     Jak yawned, righteously tired.  “Sorry, what?”

     “When I’m me again, and we…”  Small black nose, burning hotter than ever, buried itself against Jak’s chest.  “I think I’m gonna like that too much.”  Blue eyes, even more intense for the orange and yellow surrounding them, suddenly glanced up.  “I can’t wait, y’know.  You in me… me, in you back…”

     The green-blonde curled instinctively, scooped Dax up for a hard but loving kiss.  It was close, their goal in sight.  Both could feel it, somehow.  So close… so very soon…  It wasn’t known how they knew for certain.  Didn’t question intuition that deep.  Just knew, and went along for the ride.

     “I know.  Go to sleep, Dax.  Get some rest.”

     “Bath in the morning?”  It was a hopeful murmur as he snuggled in, fur getting stiff and dry in places.  A bath would be nice.

     “You know it.  And coffee, and fruit.”  A gentler kiss was placed between long, flickering velvet ears.  “Goodnight, Dax.”

     “Night, babe.”

     At ease, at least for the moment, the two settled into one another.  Hands rested on backs, chests, fur, skin.  Cheeks nuzzled before heads found a final resting place and the last tension seeped from tired muscles.  Ignoring scattered covers and flattened pillows, the used tissues being casually swept aside, the two basked in the soft comfort of the bed, enjoying the extra space while it lasted. 

     It would be much more crowded soon, after all.

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(2nd)AN: Tried to keep it close to the same mood as the original, just more lighthearted. "Understanding" will be along without too much more delay. Until then!

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