Talk to Me

AN: This should technically be looked at as the second half of chapter four. You can think of it that way, if you like. And… well, I think I’m good and out of things to say. I wasted everything I had on the fic. So do please enjoy it. Reviewers… I love you. (By the way, sorry I don’t accept anonymous reviews, but I like to respond to each review I get and responding to more than one anonymous at a time would get confusing, you see?)

killerfox: Yeah, Dax has an even evil to cute ratio. He will always be forgiven, no matter what he does (as people who play the games know, from when the little fluffy muffin manages to screw up a mission royally and there is no player option to make Jak kill him for it).

littlepyroemobaby: Eeek, not the kitten!!! Take your chapter, you mad person, just spare the kitty! (hands ottsel Dax a “Don’t Hurt the Furry Animals” sign) Lol, thanks for the encouragement!

verynaughtyottsel: Thank you! Yes, it’s now Jak’s turn to be oblivious. I’m pretty sure Dax plans to milk that for all it’s worth.

Disclaimer: The ottsel and his friends are not mine. Though I love them, I get no profit from exploiting them. Just perverse joy.

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With much trepidation, Jak slowly took a seat on the edge of the bed. He stared warily at Daxter. The racer had no idea what his friend’s new “idea” was, but after the hell the redhead had unconsciously put Jak through in the bath he was going to keep firmly on his guard and avoid any more painful and awkward situations.

Or, so he thought.

“That’s great. Now lay back.”

Jak let out a surprised “oof!” as Daxter pushed with what felt like all his slight weight, shoving the green-blonde backwards onto the large bed. Reflexively Jak grabbed for the feeble protection of the towel around his waist, making certain it had held. He tried to keep absolutely calm in the face of what he deemed a severe emergency, though his voice had admittedly acquired a sudden squeak.

“Daxter,” //deep breath, don’t let him see you’re terrified,// “what are you doing?”

The redhead seemed to loom over Jak, managing to look intimidating despite the difference in their sizes. Eyes hooded and a lazy smirk in place, he leaned down until they were almost nose to nose. “I’m doin’ somethin’ that you might not like, Jak, but it’s gotta be done. I’m gonna…”

Jak flinched away, unable to move, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth almost painfully. //Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods—!//

“…rub yer back for ya! Yer wound up tighter than a trigger on one’a Tessy’s guns. You’ll never get ta sleep like that, I guarantee it.”

Jak blinked. “What?”

Daxter was nudging him, trying to get him to move. “Yeah, it’ll do ya a world of good. Don’t worry about thankin’ me, just consider it payback fer that nice rubdown ya gave me the other night. Now roll over.”

All Jak could do was laugh, nearly weak with relief. Now, really, what had he been thinking? Of *course* Dax just wanted to return the favor of a massage. Silly overactive imagination. “Uh, can’t I just sit up for that?”

“Nah, it works better like this. ‘Cause, ya know, those knots ya got there are pretty fierce, and…” Daxter looked quickly about the room, then whispered from behind his hand as if it were a secret. “I’m kinda not strong enough without the right leverage, know what I’m sayin’?”

Biting back another laugh, Jak obligingly rolled onto his stomach.

Okay, this he could handle. Two minutes, tops, and he was sure he could force his muscles to relax. Then Daxter would be satisfied and quit pestering him about how tense he was. Maybe he could even persuade the redhead to resume ottseldom and tuck Orange Lightning under his chin for the night. That sounded nice. He could endure a couple minutes of being pawed for that.

Or, so he thought.

“Sure, Dax. Go ahead, knock yourself out.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Daxter chuckled, cracking his knuckles confidently like a maestro about to conduct a symphony. “Don’t worry, Jakkie-boy, yer gonna feel *great* by the time I get done with ya!”

Jak merely hummed in acknowledgment, grabbing a pillow and dropping his head down onto it. He was used to ottsel feet tripping up and down his spine, sometimes in the dead of night when he was trying to sleep, but overall it felt nice. He wondered what this might feel like. Hopefully not bad. The racer wasn’t much in the habit of letting non-furry people touch him, but maybe just this once…

“Oww!”

Daxter had pounced, the heels of both palms suddenly digging into the small of Jak’s back with his entire weight behind them. “Big knot,” he muttered by way of explanation.

“Jeez, Dax, careful back there. You’re supposed to relax me, not body-slam me.” He knew Daxter still had a little trouble sometimes readjusting to a bigger body and toning down how much force he used when doing things, but yikes.

“He-heh, sorry. Gentle now, I promise.” True to his word the redhead carefully moved up Jak’s back, making every effort to press lightly. “What’d you do ta yer neck, big guy? Ya twist it or somethin’?”

Jak rolled his eyes, smiling despite himself. “Maybe.”

“That’ll teach ya ta turn yer head more slowly when yer scopin’ babes from the zoomer. Either slow it down or don’t look, it ain’t worth whiplash.”

“Scoping babes, huh?” Jak snickered into the pillow; if only Daxter knew. “Whatever you say.”

Daxter huffed. “Yeah, whatever I say, ‘cause whatever I say is usually right. Now hold still.”

Jak twitched an ear, wondering why he should be any more still than he was. He was still wondering when, without preamble, Daxter unceremoniously threw a leg over his back and sat down on him. Cue panic attack--now.

“Okay, whoa! Get up. Off.”

“I said be still!” As Jak tried to struggle upright Daxter quickly grabbed for his shoulders, digging both thumbs into the tense muscles at the base of the racer’s neck. Jak froze with a pained sound, then slowly collapsed back into his former position. “This’ll be a lot less painful fer the both of us if ya just lay there an’ take it like a man, got it?”

“Daxter, I swear,” Jak growled as his neck began to be kneaded in earnest, “if you were anybody else…”

“I’d be shot, run over, broken into itty bits an’ used as an angry eco monster’s chew toy, I know. Kinda makes me glad ta be me.”

Jak snorted at the smug tone in his best friend’s voice. Confident little shit. Lucky for him it was impossible for Jak to form a decent retort in the face of the muscles in his neck and shoulders twitching spastically. All he could do was lie there and mutter, hands plucking restlessly at the bedspread and sometimes clenching in the fabric when an especially tender spot was poked at.

“Are you done yet?”

“Are ya relaxed yet?”

“No.”

“Then I’m not done. Deal with it.”

Jak tensed minutely, wondering if he might simply toss his captor off and get up on his own. He vetoed the plan, though, when Daxter’s knees, one on each side of his ribcage, gave a warning squeeze that was echoed by the hands on his back. The racer groaned and buried his face in the pillow, ears laid flat at the indignity of it all. This was absolutely not what he had signed up for.

Little by little, however, the persistent prodding and kneading began to pay off.

Almost grudgingly, Jak admitted that he could feel some of the stiffness easing from his muscles. What Daxter was doing was no longer uncomfortable, and had even begun to feel somewhat pleasant. He let his eyes close and concentrated on relaxing even further. The sooner he did, the sooner he could get the redhead off of him. Not that the warm weight was a bad thing, it was just… more of that stimulation he both desperately wanted and didn’t want at all.

Oh, well. As long as Daxter didn’t move around too much it would be fine, and it would be only a matter of minutes before he could escape this disgruntling predicament and sleep soundly with a soft, cuddly ottsel warming his poor abused neck.

Or, so he thought.

- // - // - // - // -

For a while Daxter thought his idea wasn’t going to work. Jak remained stubbornly tensed, seemingly immune to his touch. Finally, though, he began to see some results. Jak sighed and shifted beneath him, no longer holding the pillow in a death grip. After a while he simply laid his head on his arms and all but sank into the mattress, almost as if he were about to fall asleep.

Curiously, Daxter went back to the spot on Jak’s neck that had seemed to be the sorest earlier and gave a hard press. No response from the racer indicated completely relaxed muscles that no longer hurt. The redhead grinned. It was time to initiate the second stage of his idea.

Unobtrusively, he began to alter the way he was touching Jak. Strong rubs and presses slowly became gentle caresses, stroking softly across scarred skin. Dax knew the moment Jak registered the change. As his hands drifted gently but firmly down the racer’s sides Jak jerked under the touch, tensing visibly. Inwardly Daxter gave a cheer.

“Watsa matter now, babe? Yer all stiff again.”

Jak half rose on one elbow, staring warily over his shoulder. “Dax, come on. You really need to get off now.”

“Will you just chill already? I’m not gonna tickle ya, if that’s what yer worried about.” Fighting back a grin and avoiding Jak’s half suspicious and half pleading gaze, he removed his hands from their vulnerable, ticklish territory and sent them back toward his friend’s shoulders.

This would have to be played very carefully.

If he accidentally spooked Jak the racer would undoubtedly make a run for it, and there was no question that Daxter lacked the brute strength to keep him down. Somehow he doubted that restraining his friend was a very good idea anyway, in the face of all Jak had been through. No, it was much better if the green-blonde voluntarily stayed where he was and let Daxter work his magic.

Humming lightly, the tune to a song ten-year-old Keira used to sing ages and ages ago about little birds in a berry tree, the redhead trailed his fingers down Jak’s spine. Stopping just at the edge of the towel he twirled a little design across the skin in the small of the racer’s back before resuming the upward stroke. Beneath him Jak shuddered and squirmed, making a pitiful, though obviously stifled, moaning sound. And, to his everlasting wonder and delight, an answering shiver ran through Daxter. At last! Results!

For a moment he nearly felt lightheaded as the reality of it all sank in. There he was in a borrowed robe that was doing its level best to fall off his narrow shoulders, suggestively straddling Jak’s hips and trying his damnedest to get them both hot and bothered without making it seem too obvious that he was doing so. And apparently he was succeeding.

Barely holding back a hysterical giggle, Daxter gave a mighty stretch and flopped down across the racer’s back, hugging him tightly around the shoulders. He didn’t know why, but quite suddenly he wanted to be as close to Jak as humanly possible. Full body contact achieved by lying on his friend seemed just the ticket.

Jak gasped, then gave a miserable whine as Daxter’s full weight descended on him from chest to knees. “Dax, for Precursors’ sake, what are you doing?”

Secure in the knowledge that Jak couldn’t see the stupid grin on his face, the redhead nuzzled his cheek into Jak’s shoulder and lightly flicked the very tip of his ear. “Just messin’, big guy, just messin’.”

“Can't you ‘mess’ with someone else?” Emitting what could very well be the most frustrated groan Daxter had ever heard, the racer seized a stray pillow and shoved his head under it. Dax had to wonder how much longer the green-blonde could possibly hold out without either popping him one or… well, something a lot less violent and a lot more appealing.

That thought in mind, Daxter pushed himself upright once more. Just maybe… Crooking his fingers he drew his nails lightly and rapidly all over Jak’s back and sides, earning a full body shiver. Jak peeked cautiously from under the pillow.

“There ya go, pal. All done.” Wondering absently at the mysterious catch in his voice, Dax paused, took a deep breath, and rolled off his friend. Jak jumped as the redhead landed beside him, gazing at him with a look of silent, wide-eyed curiosity Dax hadn’t seen in quite a while.

On his back next to Jak with his arms pillowed behind his head and robe pooling around him, Daxter smiled; a look that held what he considered to be a lot of promise. “Now, you do me.”

Jak stared. He blinked and gulped, flushed red and turned pale before Daxter’s very eyes. And faster than Dax had ever seen him move prior to that very moment, he was off the bed and out the door, letting it slam shut behind him.

Daxter sighed. Sitting up, he scratched his head and stared at the door in a mix of amusement and mild annoyance. “Well, guess I could'a phrased that a little better…”

- // - // - // - // -

Shell-shocked was the only way to accurately describe Jak’s condition upon fleeing the room. He had hit the dimly lit hallway at a flat run and only stopped when several winding passages separated him from what lay behind. Panting quietly in a dark, secluded alcove, he tried to be calm and take stock of his situation.

//Think, soldier,// he schooled himself firmly. //You’re deep in unfamiliar territory without adequate supplies or clothing. // His hand tightened around the knot in his faithful little bath towel kilt. //This bites.//

Why, why in the name of his ancestor Mar had Daxter been behaving like that? One more second in there with him acting like a clingy little hanging vine and Jak would have done something terrible. The flustered racer rubbed at his eyes in a halfhearted attempt to banish the images in his head. He could literally see himself grabbing Daxter, holding him close, kissing and touching him--and see Daxter’s look of shock and disgust.

//No, you can’t think things like that, damn it! He has no idea what he’s doing to you.// Jak shook his head harshly.

Well, at any rate he definitely couldn’t go back to the room any time soon. He also couldn’t just stand there in the cold, dark hallway in nothing but a damp towel.

With a deep sigh, Jak shoved himself away from the wall and left the protection of his alcove. He thought he knew the location of the room Torn was staying in, if he could only get there without running into anyone else along the way. What a sight he would be slinking through the halls, disheveled and almost naked in the middle of the night. And still extremely uncomfortable below the belt, to boot.

Sneaking along the corridors, trying to keep to the shadows, the racer at last reached the door he felt was the right one. Just to be sure, he crept closer and very carefully laid a long ear to the wood. There was a muffled conversation going on inside.

“It’s so late. *mumble mumble* Do you have to change it now?”

“Well I’m not *mumblety mumble* sleep on dirty sheets!”

“Ashe, *grumble-mumble,* why don’t you just throw a towel over the wet spot and we’ll change the bed in the morning?”

With a sigh of relief, Jak pulled back and knocked firmly on the door.

There was an immediate scuffle inside before everything went quiet, and the door opened the barest crack. A wary eye peered out. “Who’s there?”

Jak couldn’t help but smirk. “Hey, Torn.”

“Oh, it’s only you.” The door swung wide, revealing a rumpled Torn hastily wrapped in a wrinkled sheet. “What do you want?”

“I need to borrow some pants.”

The dreadlocked man stared. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“Does it look like I’m joking?” Jak gestured at his towel.

It was Torn’s turn to smirk. “I think first I’d like to know what you’re doing wandering the palace at midnight looking like that. Where’s your rat? You finally find somebody to surgically remove it from your shoulder, or is it off pretending to be normal tonight?”

“Hey, is Ashelin here with you?” Standing on tiptoe to peer over the taller man’s shoulder, Jak made a great show of trying to get a look inside the room. There was a stifled and obviously feminine yell from inside.

The rebel leader quickly swung the door closed with a mumbled curse. “Fine, you don’t ask and I don’t ask. All I want to know is why the hell I should let you take off in my pants.”

“Because it won’t hurt anything and I’ll have them back by morning.”

“Where are your own damn pants?!”

“I thought we weren’t asking questions. Besides,” the green-blonde looked pointedly at his companion’s bed sheet toga, “something tells me you won’t be needing them for a while.”

Torn stared hard at him, then disappeared with a quick click of the door.

//Dax would be proud of that comeback,// Jak thought absently before a pair of pants, thankfully clean, came flying out and landed on his head. The racer winced. He had forgotten that he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about Daxter right now.

“I want those washed and folded on my doorstep by daybreak, you got that, soldier?”

Throwing a mock salute, Jak tossed the uniform pants over his shoulder and strolled away, feeling pleased. Now he could find an out of the way spot to shimmy into the pants and hide out as long as he needed to, perhaps in the kitchen or one of the libraries. If he waited long enough before returning to the room, there was a good chance Daxter would be asleep when he got there.

Jak knew his friend wouldn’t be happy that he had bolted without a word of explanation, but hopefully a good night’s sleep would dampen his irritation and Jak could easily win himself back into Daxter’s good graces with a nice big breakfast.

At the mental mention of food, Jak’s ears twitched. Everything that had transpired since dinner had suddenly combined to make him extremely hungry. Pushing back a pang of guilt at the thought of snacking without Daxter the racer altered his course toward the palace kitchens, determined to kill some time.

- // - // - // - // -

Daxter lay on his back on the plushy mattress, snuggled into the warm indent Jak had left in the blankets. He stared listlessly up at the bed canopy, finding himself at something of a loss.

If anyone had told him up until a few days ago that he would ever want to fool around with another male, let alone his best friend in the whole entire universe, the redhead would have called them insane. Perversely twisted. In possession of a serious mental disorder. I’m in love with Tess, dammit, Tess Tess Tess!

But now, he had to admit… he was a little disappointed.

He had thought he’d been doing everything right, at least until the object of his attentions ran from the room like his towel was on fire. Didn’t Jak want to mess around even a little?

Daxter yawned, then sighed. Now, not only was there no possibility of any hanky panky that evening, but to add injury to insult he didn’t even have his usual nice, warm Jak to fall asleep on. What was fair about that?

“Well, somebody just flipped this switch from suck ta blow.”

Moodily, Dax twisted around until he was in a better position to shuck the robe. It really was much too big, and there was no real reason for him to be human if Jak wasn’t there. Maybe if the racer decided to come back and he were furry, he could still swing a cuddle that night. Since Jak didn’t seem to want to touch him otherwise.

When the pulses of eco wore off Daxter stretched, scratched behind one ear with a hind foot, and curled up on the discarded robe. Tucking his tail around himself until the tip brushed his nose, he settled down to wait for Jak. Again. It seemed he was doing a lot of that lately.

Aggravated, he allowed his ears to slick back in annoyance. Tess, Jinx, Jak. Blondes sure could be irritating.

Then, suddenly, a thought struck the ottsel. His head jerked up, eyes widening in realization. Of course! Why hadn’t he guessed it before? Jak thought he was still upset over the deal with Tess and Jinx. That must be why he had been shying away from Daxter’s tentative shows of affection, even though it was clear he wanted them badly.

Dax laughed, feeling proud of his deductive reasoning skills. For some reason he was also absurdly proud of Jak. Anyone else who’d been informed that their love interest had been recently dumped for a professional arsonist wouldn’t hesitate to jump at the chance and make a serious move. But not Jak.

//He prob’ly thinks he’d be takin’ advantage of me while I’m hurt an’ desperate, or somethin’,// the ottsel thought, shaking his head in amazement. //Jakkie-boy, yer just such a nice guy. Dumb, but nice. Don’t worry, though, the Orange Lightning’ll set ya straight in no time!//

Oh, yes. Soon, very soon, hero-boy would partake of some sweet redhead lovin’. Daxter just had to figure out how to break the news to him first.

Smiling smugly Daxter lay down once more, but this time the prospect of waiting didn’t seem quite so tedious. It appeared that more planning would be in order, and he could do with a little time on his furry hands.

- // - // - // - // -

It was very late when Jak returned.

“Dax? Daxter…?”

The racer opened the suite door slowly, fully expecting to be met up close and in his face by a pissed off redhead. In the event of just such an emergency, he had an excuse and an apology on the tip of his tongue and the bribe of a fresh pear in one hand. No matter what shape he happened to be in, Daxter loved fruit.

Jak was surprised to find, though, that neither the words nor the snack seemed necessary.

Though the room’s lights were still on, Daxter was nowhere to be found. Curious, Jak wandered in, dropping the used towel in the floor and placing the pear on the table for later. Where could Dax possibly have gone? He hoped the redhead hadn’t gotten fed up and gone out looking for him.

The robe was lying rumpled in the middle of the bed. Jak reached for it on a whim. The room was large and quite cold at this time of night, and Torn’s pants didn’t contribute much in the way of conserving warmth. There was a sleepy squeak of protest.

Daxter was asleep, curled in a small orange ball under the robe with head, tail and limbs tightly tucked for warmth. He was shivering slightly.

Jak instantly felt terrible.

He had run out and left Dax alone in the cold with no proper clothes for his human self and no body heat for Orange Lightning to curl up against and soak up. That was mean to do to a real pet, let alone to a best friend masquerading as one. No matter his stupid issues and insecurities, he should have realized that Daxter would be cold and returned to do something about it.

Guiltily Jak re-tucked the robe firmly around Dax’s tiny form.

Hurrying around the room, he hit all the lights but the small one next to the bed before quickly changing from the borrowed pants to his own boxers. Very gently, he picked Daxter up in one hand and turned the blankets down with the other. The ottsel twitched but didn’t wake up.

When all was ready the racer placed his friend on a spare pillow and slid between the sheets. He hissed quietly. “Damn it, it’s freezing in here!”

First thing in the morning he would ask Ashelin why such an important structure as the palace wasn’t properly heated, at least in the residential areas. Stupid, stubborn, pinch-penny aristocrats.

There was an immediate transfer of ottsel from pillow to chest. Jak sighed, reaching out to turn off the light and immediately after beginning to pet the slowly warming fur. He was thankful he hadn’t really spent the entire night away, as he had been seriously considering. Undoubtedly, the next morning he would have returned to find a furry orange ice cube.

Sensing the radiating warmth Daxter shifted, almost trying to burrow against the green-blonde’s chest. Jak rolled over and pulled the ottsel closer, mostly for Daxter’s benefit but partially for his own. Having a soft, fluffy thing to hold onto in the dark and the cold was immensely soothing, even if it was shivering like a leaf in the breeze.

A velvet ear brushed the underside of Jak’s chin as Daxter suddenly stirred. “Jak?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

The racer braced for a sour look or stinging comment about his hasty departure and long absence, but none came. Instead, the ottsel merely smiled and wriggled further under Jak’s chin, settling in with his tail wrapped around the green-blonde’s head and nose behind Jak’s ear. Jak’s own nose was buried in the soft fur of Daxter’s stomach, the tickle of it making his face twitch into a smile.

Jak was a little surprised, though. Usually Daxter just flopped down on top of him and was pretty happy to spend the night wherever he landed. It was rare for him to actively snuggle.

“’Night, big guy. Glad ya came back.”

“Goodnight,” Jak mumbled back, muffled by the fluffy butter-colored tummy fur in his face. Still smiling, he tried to unobtrusively rearrange his ottsel neck wrap. It wouldn’t do if he woke in the night choking on Daxter’s hair.

Daxter made no protest, easily shifting into the new shape Jak was coaxing him into. In moments he was turned about, head still under Jak’s chin and one arm around the racer’s neck, already almost asleep again. Very gently Jak eased the goggles off his friend’s head and tossed them lightly toward the foot of the bed. It would be more comfortable for the both of them that way, especially if Dax planned to spend the whole night cuddling. Which, of course, Jak hoped he would.

Curling a hand carefully around Daxter’s middle, the racer closed his eyes and sighed softly. He was now *very* glad he had bullied himself into calming down and coming back. It just went to show that, no matter what happened, he would never be able to stay away from Daxter. Just as it should be.

Small, even breaths against his neck proved the ottsel to be asleep once more. Suddenly feeling bold, Jak tilted his head and placed a soft kiss behind one lightly flicking ear. “Love you, Dax.”

Lulled by the gentle, nearly purr-like sounds drifting from his peacefully dreaming friend, Jak slipped off to sleep.

- // - // - // - // -

To be continued…

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(2nd) AN: D’aww, they got a cuddle scene. You know, eventually there will be a *reason* this is rated the way it is… but not just yet. I know you all love being left hanging.

Sorry to throw out another short installment, but since a good bit of it was run-on from the last chapter I kind of didn’t have a choice. As penance, I thought I’d share some of the scenarios that went through my mind for the Torn-Jak-pants scene that just didn’t fit at *all,* but I thought were too good to waste.

Please enjoy the random stupidity, taking care to be thankful I don’t just shove anything into this poor fic that enters my messed up head, and I’ll hurry along with the next chapter as fast as I can.

- - - - -

Torn: What are you doing out here in the middle of the night with no pants?

Jak: There was, um… a carbon monoxide leak in my room.

Torn: Oh. (hopefully) Did it kill Daxter?

- - - - -

Torn: What are you doing out here in the middle of the night with no pants?

Jak: Oh, you know, just had a hot flash. Had to cool down somehow.

- - - - -

Torn: What are you doing out here in the middle of the night with no pants?

Jak: (waggles brows) What do you think, hot stuff?

Daxter: Dammit, Jak, you player! I turn my back for five minutes and this is what I find!?

Ashelin: Step away from mah man, Blondie!

Torn: o_O;;

- - - - -