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Talk to Me

By: sillyneko345
folder +G through L › Jak & Daxter
Rating: Adult ++
Chapters: 12
Views: 13,432
Reviews: 51
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Disclaimer: I do not own Jak & Daxter, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
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Ch. 8

AN: Howdy y’all! Looks like it’s (belated) update time once more, just without the annoyances that plagued the completion of the last chapter. Make no mistake, a working PC all your own is a gift from the deity of your choice. Please enjoy this new installment, smokin’ hot shonen-ai included.

Thank you to the stalwart reviewers, both those who’ve been with me from the get go and those who’ve just joined the party. You guys rock!

- - - - -

Arow: *hug* Thanks muchly! Yes, being seme would go right to Daxter’s little red head. We shall see who comes out on top in the end… (pun intended XD)

Sej: Cookies for you, my most astute reader! You’re absolutely right. Communication can solve a million problems and a lack of such can create just as many, and that is indeed the moral of this story. And meanwhile we giggle, ‘cause Jak and Dax are bein’ so silly about it X3

VeryNaughtyOttsel: Heheh, thank you. I think maybe Jinx is just morbidly curious and speculating… or something… Lord, can you just imagine him and Razer?! They’re like, polar opposites. I would salute the one who could pull off a believable fling for those two. And I hear you on the homework. What would you call a course like that, I wonder, and where can I sign up for it…?

- - - - -

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Naughty Dog. Including a large chunk of my soul by this time, I’m sure.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Daxter read through the night. He had no choice in the matter, really, for once he cautiously cracked the book so callously hurled at him by his new “friend” Razer he literally could not put it down. Stationed on the sofa in the soft glow of the small table lamp next to it, in fact exactly where Jak had been sulking just hours before, the redhead made his way steadily through the book as the night slipped by.

To begin with, he flipped through the pages to find a likely looking starting point. The book was divided into several segments, some of which seemed of much more import than others.

“Let’s see, here,” he mused. “‘How to accurately determine the true extent of your orientation.’ Straight with a side of Jak, thanks. Movin’ on. ‘Emotional and psychological aspects.’ Eh, sounds dry. Next! ‘Knowing when you're ready.’ Well I wouldn’t be readin’ this if I wasn’t, duh.” The first few chapters were quickly passed by.

“Ooh, ‘necessary preparations.’ That’s what we’re talkin’ about. Might as well start here.”

So Daxter began to study. At first he barely moved, so engrossed in the text was he, only a slight shift or ear twitch accompanying the turning of a page. //Hmm. Well, uh, that’s interestin’... I guess…// He coughed lightly, a bit nervously, and read on.

Soon, however, Dax began to fidget, plucking worriedly at the worn upholstery and squirming where he sat. After a while he suddenly closed the book hurriedly, keeping the place with one finger while he blinked dazedly around the room to get his bearings. He was flushing madly.

//Um, okay. Wow. Definitely didn’t know that… See, they hide this stuff in books like this so people don’t find out. Yeah, that’s what it is, it’s a conspiracy!// Nervously he ran a finger around the inside collar of his jacket. //Okay now, chill out, Dax. Just keep on readin’. Nothin’ shakes Orange Lightning, baby!//

He firmly reopened the book and read a few more paragraphs before nearly choking on his tongue in abject shock. “Oh, Precursors, can you actually do that?!”

He badly, badly wished Jak were awake. But then again, he was also very, very grateful that Jak was asleep. Once in the middle of these conflicting emotions he even caught himself rising from the couch to run for the bedroom door, but he had no idea whether he wanted Jak as a source of comfort, or…

//Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold it, hornball. Yer not that nervous if yer thinkin’ that way. Now get back an’ sit down an’ finish the damn book!//

At last, after what seemed an eternity, Daxter turned the last page of the last chapter. Finally shutting the book he glanced tiredly out the window, amazed to see how light the sky had become. “Gee, time sure flies when yer havin’ yer brain twisted upside down an’ inside out.”

Dropping the book on the sofa cushions, he staggered into the kitchen. Some coffee would do him good.

As the redhead clattered through the drawers and cabinets he almost felt a sense of déjà vu from the first days after his ottselization so long ago. Everything around him was still the same, but his view of it had altered drastically. Quite abruptly he had found that the world he had long grown used to was very different, and it suddenly needed an immediate re-explore from his new (pint-sized) perspective.

At that moment, leaning against the kitchen counter absently watching the coffee pot filling slowly and steadily, Daxter had the same feeling. Nothing had changed but what he knew about a new and obscure subject, but now everything seemed strange.

//Too deep… way too deep.//

Grabbing the pot off the burner the moment it was full, Dax poured himself a huge mug full. Despite all the interesting information he had absorbed through the night, he was still very tired. He considered his options. Part of him wanted to go back and throw that stupid book out the window. He could skid into the bedroom ottsel, dive into bed, snuggle under Jak’s chin and just let everything stay the same as it always was. Nice and normal. Safe.

The larger part, though, thought he should go, right now and immediately, and do something else entirely. He could just as easily skid into the bedroom human, dive into bed, pounce on Jak and put his new-found knowledge into practice.

//Mmm, yeah… like that idea better. Sexin’ first, snuggles later. Guess I’m not as nervous as I am needy, he-heh.//

That larger part was also telling him quite loudly and insistently that chickening out now was bogus, and he tended to agree with it. Jak at this point might not have a clue, but that didn’t mean that Dax himself could so easily forget the events of the last few days. No matter what, things had changed. Besides, he had just been handed a passport to Ecstasy a’ la Jak.

//I really do hafta do it now,// he reasoned. //I’ll never look at him without thinkin’ about it again, and I really do wanna kiss him. ‘Sides... now that he can turn me on, Orange Lightning’ll be humpin’ the guy’s knee fer the rest’a forever if I let it build up an’ don’t go through.//

Grinning at the mental picture the redhead went back, coffee in hand, to skim through the book again. A refresher course couldn’t hurt while he waited for more important things: namely, for Jak to get up.

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

Jak took his sweet time waking up that morning, drifting in and out of pleasant dreams. When at last the racer did manage to fully regain consciousness, he blinked hazy blue eyes before a hand immediately flew to his cheek. That touch…

He sat up, scanning the sea of blankets. There was no sign that Daxter had been in during the night, ottsel or otherwise. There wasn’t even an ottsel-sized indent in the covers next to him, which made the green-blonde a little sad.

//Hmm… dream or no dream, Jak?//

Finally he decided that the surprise caress, whatever the reason behind it, had to have happened. It was the only solid remnant of memory among all the other nice dreams that were already fading away. Lazily Jak rubbed a rough knuckle along the stubble of his jaw. He needed to shave. But first…

//I’m gonna go find that little twerp and touch him too somehow,// he decided. //Even if he isn’t ottsel I’ll do it. Maybe even just mess his hair up, or something. I deserve that much, at least, for him not even bothering to stay in here for even a little bit, don’t I?//

Mind made up, Jak stretched and leisurely made his way out of bed. A stack of clean laundry on top of the chest of drawers was rifled through as the racer searched for a set of matching socks. He would be very casual about what he was about to do, maybe distract his target by asking him about his night out.

Jak did not as a rule initiate contact with people. The only times he had even really touched Daxter since they had left Sandover had been when his friend was ottsel. The vast majority of human contact since then--all the wrestling, the tickling, the bath, the back rub--had in fact been instigated by Dax himself.

//And yesterday morning does not count,// he thought firmly as a blush forced itself onto his face. Now that he was awake and fully functional in the reasoning department being the one to solicit a touch, no matter how minor, made the green-blonde a bit wary.

//Hey, come on, you can do it.// Looking on the bright side, he attempted to give himself a small pep talk while he shrugged on a fresh shirt over his boxers. //You hugged Keira yesterday. This is no big deal. Just pretend you’re trying to annoy him by messing up his hair. His nice, soft, fluffy hair.// Jak shook himself violently. //Or he could have fur right now, even, so it won’t be a big deal. Scratch the ottsel chin, morning ear rub… it’ll be *fine.*//

Ready to begin his self-imposed mission, Jak squared his shoulders and straightened his shirt. Nothing to worry about. Confident, he opened the bedroom door.

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

“G’morning, Dax.”

The notably cheerful greeting pulled the redhead from his intent studies. He glanced up as Jak stepped out of the bedroom, trying in vain to palm and finger comb wild bed head into place. Dax grinned slowly. Well hellooo, gorgeous.

“’Mornin’ there, Sleepin’ Beauty. I was wonderin’ when you’d show.”

“It’s not even seven thirty yet. You need to get more sleep and lay off—” Daxter grimaced as Jak ruffled his hair soundly, “—the coffee. Look at this--you drank a whole pot again, didn’t you.”

Dax didn’t think that was quite a fair assumption. Just because he was stretched out on the sofa very early in the morning, wide awake with an empty coffee pot and mug at his elbow, that didn’t necessarily mean he had been the one to drink it. Even though he had. “And yer point?”

Jak sighed and waved a hand dismissively. “Nothing, nothing.” Then he paused, almost doing a double take. “Hey… you’re reading, Dax?”

The redhead jumped guiltily. He had completely forgotten the book still clutched in his grasp. “Oh, uh… yeah. I borrowed it from… somebody. It’s real… eh-heh… real interestin’. Couldn’t put it down.” Covertly he tried to wedge the book between his knee and the cushions.

“So that’s where you went last night? To borrow that book?” For some reason Jak’s face brightened. Dax absently wondered why. Huh. Maybe the green-blonde was just happy to see his friend for once in his life willingly read something that wasn’t a parts manual or a dirty magazine. Little did he suspect.

“Yeah. I was gonna come curl up with ya, but you were already sleepin’ so I figured I’d read a little. Just got caught up in it, I guess. But, uh, ya sleep good anyway?”

“Sure, I slept fine.” Smiling, Jak collected the empty coffee apparatus and headed for the kitchen, presumably to brew more. He was even whistling a little under his breath.

Relieved, Daxter again pulled out the book. He was glad for Jak’s good mood. The night before he had been half afraid the racer wouldn’t go to sleep until he had his grabby mitts on Orange Lightning, and that would have nipped his late night read-a-thon in the bud. Finding Jak not only unbothered by a night alone the next morning was one thing, but…

Lowering the book once more, Daxter paused. He considered. And he acted on the spur of the moment. Happy-For-No-Apparent-Reason Jak was too good an opportunity to pass up. A decision was made.

Now. Now, when Jak was all happy-like. Now was the time. The day of the seduction of Jak Mar, the savior of cities, defeater of bad guys, winner of death-defying races, lover of children and small animals everywhere--it was finally at hand.

Daxter sized up the situation.

//Okay, so he’s just got up. Barely dressed, no shower yet, no coffee, possibly still a little slow. Not quite on his toes. Yeah… this could work. I can pull this off!//

A devious smile crept across the redhead’s face. Slowly he rose from the sofa and, with a casual stretch and feigned yawn, meandered in the direction of the bathroom. If he remembered correctly there were certain supplies that were needed in order to attempt what he had in mind.

A quick riffle through the cabinet under the sink yielded some spiders and the duo’s battered and much-used first aid kit. The last held promise, and Daxter cracked it open curiously. There, atop a roll of bandages and gauze, lay exactly what he needed.

//‘Magically appearing lube only exists in fan fiction. Make sure ya have a sufficient supply before ya begin,’// he quoted absently as he grabbed the small jar of antibacterial salve out of the box. //And, check! Must be my lucky day.//

Dax tiptoed back to the main room, carefully noting Jak’s location and behavior. As he had hoped, the racer was still in the kitchen. He was still whistling lightly and the smell of fresh coffee was again beginning to permeate their small home. The early morning sunlight filtering through the dirty windows even managed to make the whole scene seem a little warm and cozy.

Daxter smiled. What a nice setting for an ambush. Now the redhead just had to figure out how to lure his quarry into an appropriate location. He would have to go about it carefully, as Jak would surely cut and run if he wasn’t caught completely off guard.

//I gotta get the drop on the big guy, but how?// he wondered, tapping his chin in thought. //M’not strong enough ta shove him up against the cabinets or drag him back ta bed… not enough muscle ta push him down anywhere…// It was quite a conundrum. Then Daxter remembered the technique he had used just two nights ago, the one that had sent a startled Jak sprawling on the big bed at the palace. //Hey, that’s right! Maybe I can’t flat knock him down, but I can *overbalance* him! Yeah, I just gotta get the big guy somewhere I can--//

After a moment, his restlessly roving gaze slowly settled on the sofa. Dax rubbed his palms together delightedly, a devious smirk showing the glint of buck teeth. Oh, yeah. It was all coming together.

Dropping the little jar on the table near the sofa that was now central to his plan, Daxter shifted excitedly from one foot to the other. The anticipation was getting pretty awful. He was now poised, confident, soon to be in control, and ready to get on with things. Clearly it was time to begin. He cleared his throat.

“Uh, Jak? How’s that coffee comin’?”

A low chuckle from out of sight greeted the query. “Almost done.”

“How ‘bout bringin’ me a cup, huh ol’ buddy?”

There was a clattering in the kitchen. The refrigerator opened and closed. “I’ll bring you some, but it’s half milk and no sugar. Didn’t Vin tell you between the caffeine and liquor you’re gonna ruin your kidneys? Or your liver… I can’t remember.”

Dax could hardly hold back his laughter. Jak was certainly talkative this morning. Hopefully very soon he would give the green-blonde something to make some real noise about. “Yeah, yeah, the kidneys. I know. Just hurry it up in there, pal, we ain’t got all mornin’!”

An amused snort was his only answer before Jak reentered the room, a wry smile on his face and a mug in each hand. “No offense, Dax, but I think your Precursor status has gone to your head.”

“Hey, I’m a god! I’m allowed!”

“And technically I’m a prince, so shouldn’t we be... I dunno, all-powerful allies or something?”

“Sure, pal, and we are. The Demolition Duo, that’s us all the way. Just, I’m the boss.” Daxter smugly accepted the mug Jak thrust at him with a resigned sigh.

Good. Their small talk was keeping the racer relaxed and completely at ease. Now if he could just slowly back the green-blonde into position. Dax took a quick sip from his cup and placed it surreptitiously on the table by the sofa. It could only get in the way. He could feel the flutters of nervous excitement building. He had to admit it; the thought of doing what he was about to do to Jak was pretty damn arousing.

//Come on, babe, now’s yer cue. Look away fer two seconds an’ give Daxxie a chance…//

The opportunity was not long in coming. Taking a deep swig from his own mug Jak ambled toward the couch, curiously regarding the book still lying innocently on the cushions. “So what is it you were reading all that time, Dax?” he asked, reaching out to pick up the mysterious chunk of text that could keep Daxter enthralled for most of an entire night.

The redhead couldn’t resist.

“Bend over an’ I’ll show ya, gorgeous,” he purred, simultaneously shocked and amazed at the husky timbre his voice had suddenly adopted. He was tensing, drifting into position and awaiting the perfect angle, the absolute best moment… and then it came.

Jak barked out a startled laugh, giving his friend an incredulously amused look and shaking his head in denial. “Daxter, you are totally insane.” Seeming somewhat flustered, the racer removed his gaze from Dax and settled it on the cover of the book. A mistake.

As the green-blonde’s eyes flew wide in shock, Daxter sprang into action. Still staring dumbly at the book clutched in his hand, Jak barely had time to utter the title that had alarmed him so before the redhead’s stooped shoulder caught him hard in the lower back with all Daxter’s power behind it.

“‘Sodomy for Morons’?!”

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

Jak hit the sofa hard. He barely registered the thump of the book as it met the floor, or the ‘clunk, splash’ impact of his coffee mug less than a second later. All his senses were immediately honed, razor sharp, on the situation in which he had suddenly found himself.

He’d been hit, been attacked, he had to *fight back* and couldn’t when he was face first in the couch cushions! The former hero snarled, instinctively scrambling into a better defensive position and drawing back to return the blow. Reason returned quick as lightning, however, when a redheaded blur landed in his lap.

“Daxter, what the *hell*--?!”

Jak was pinned before he could even summon a coherent thought. Daxter’s knees dug into the cushions on either side of his hips as their legs tangled together, the redhead’s hands on his shoulders firmly pushing him back into the arm rest of the sofa. Well and truly trapped if he didn’t want to throw Dax off and chance hurting him, the racer could only lie dumbly on his back, breathing harsh and eyes riveted on his best friend.

Daxter hovered over him, faces only a breath apart. He grinned hugely at Jak as if they were sharing some colossal joke, but the look made Jak more than nervous. Somehow, this time he didn’t think his friend was trying to start a wrestling match. Daxter’s eyes were different, hooded and slightly wild. Almost predatory. Something clenched in Jak’s gut, made him want to gulp and sink back into the sofa in an uncharacteristic show of meekness.

Not good.

“Dax…?” He could barely get the breath to whisper it.

The redhead chuckled, leaning in even closer. Jak jerked, pressing his head back, squishing himself into the yielding cushions as far as he was able to avoid any mortifyingly embarrassing contact that Daxter didn’t intend. He couldn’t help it; despite his best efforts to the contrary, the position was turning him on.

But Dax kept coming closer…

“Don’t worry, pal,” he all but purred, slowly lifting a single finger to tweak playfully at the stunned green-blonde’s goatee. “I know what I’m doin’. Mostly.”

Then Jak couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe at all as Daxter’s hands moved to tilt his face up and hold it steady, thumbs tracing green sideburns up the sides of his cheeks and hooking over the base of his ears. The racer felt suddenly dizzy, reality spun out of control, and he slammed his eyes shut a scant second before another pair of warm, soft lips met his own.

This couldn’t be happening. He was dreaming again. Daxter was not sprawled over and against him, Daxter was not holding his face gently, and Daxter *certainly* was not kissing him. Why would he be? It was entirely impossible. This couldn’t be happening.

But it was.

“Jeez, Jak, open up why don’cha?”

Jak gasped, jumping involuntarily. His eyes flew open as his head was tipped back even farther, the taste of strong coffee bursting across his taste buds as their mouths fused completely and a warm, slick tongue moved insistently against his own. Dear… sweet… Precursors.

Instinctively the green-blonde’s hands shot up to clench tightly in the back of Daxter’s shirt, holding on like death. He felt lightheaded and his heartbeat pounded madly in his ears. Still, all that didn’t keep him from tentatively trying to kiss his friend back, if even just a little.

Daxter made a sound of approval, and Jak could feel his smile against his lips. “Yeah, pal, that’s better.”

Finally trusting that Jak wouldn’t try to escape, the redhead released his grip. Hands that had been carefully keeping him face front began to drift up the racer’s long ears, quick fingers circling and caressing their sensitive length in a way that could only be described as indecent before gently catching and rubbing the flushed, pointed tips.

Biting back what he was sure would be an embarrassing noise, Jak tried valiantly to rally his rapidly dwindling thought processes.

Why? Why was Daxter doing this? It was so sudden, there was absolutely no reason for it, it was—suddenly entirely too much trouble to think about as nimble hands slipped under the hem of his loose cotton shirt, pleasantly cool against his burning skin. The racer shivered at the contact, fighting not to lean further into it.

No, no, he couldn’t lose himself! He had to *think,* damn it, not—shove his chest up into Daxter’s touch with something very like an astonished yelp, nearly writhing when the redhead’s curious fingers tweaked as yet unexplored, but apparently very sensitive, territory.

“Well wadda’ya know,” Dax chuckled, giving Jak an amused grin before leaning close once more for another deep kiss. “Guess that really does work.”

Face redder than the scarf that had been such a constant part of his attire not so long ago, Jak could only whimper as his best friend leisurely but thoroughly explored the inside of his mouth. This was, hands down, the most intense experience outside a battlefield or explosives-ridden race course he had ever experienced.

Leaning forward the slightest bit, Jak lapped tentatively at the mouth pressed against his own. In a fit of boldness he ran his tongue over Daxter’s front teeth, something he had dreamed of but truly thought he would never get the chance to do. In a way the slight overbite made it all the more obvious to the racer that this wasn’t just anyone he was with. This was really Daxter, his best friend, straddling his thighs and kissing him breathless.

As the weight of that realization hit home, heat engulfed the green-blonde. Not the heat that accompanied blind rage, not the all-too-familiar burn of dark eco, but a good heat. A heat like lying on the beach in the sun for just a little too long and still not wanting to move. A delicious heat that, stemming from his face, chest, and every point of contact between Daxter’s body and his own, slowly coiled in the pit of his stomach.

It was wonderful, and terrifying.

“Ya know, it wouldn’t kill ya ta participate a little, here…”

Jak panted against Daxter’s mouth, fists twisting tighter in the redhead’s wrinkled shirt. His reasoning skills might be lacking a bit at the moment, but surely Dax was right. He couldn’t just lay there. He had to touch Dax, too. Hesitantly his hands inched down from narrow shoulders to rest gingerly on a slim waist.

“Yeah, that’s right, pal. Now, under…” Daxter helpfully directed the racer’s hand until Jak’s palm met soft, warm skin. The redhead wriggled appreciatively as Jak tried his hardest to touch without tickling. “Mmm… purr, babe. That’s nice.”

Jak tried to grin back, but his smile wavered. For all his acquiescence so far, he was still unsure. For every move forward they made, his brain tried to rebel. With each new act of exploration, his grip on reality tightened a little more even as holding himself back became harder and harder to manage.

He needed to stop, couldn’t let this go any further without knowing what Daxter’s motives were. If he let this continue and it all turned out to be just curiosity on his friend’s part… or, Precursors forbid, some sort of twisted *joke*… Jak really didn’t think he could handle it.

He took a deep breath, steeled himself to keep focused and not give in to the pleasure of the moment. He didn’t want Daxter to stop. Far from it. But he had to end this. //Talk to him, just talk to him, get him to stop for just a second and talk to you.//

“Daxter…” He tried not to sound pleading, he really did, but his face must have betrayed his wariness. When he looked up at his friend beseechingly he found long fingers suddenly pressed against his lips, firmly hushing any protests.

“Big guy, trust me. It’s okay. I read up on this. It’s all cool.” With that the hands under Jak’s shirt began to drift lower, tickling faintly down the racer’s hard stomach on an unerring path toward his erection.

Alarm bells were sounding in Jak’s head. “No, Dax, that’s not what I—ahh!” He couldn’t help but cry out, hands instinctively gripping the hips they still rested on with bruising force as the redhead’s fingers came to rest on the waistband of his boxers. “Wait!”

“Forget it, babe. You've been waitin’ fer this fer too long already.”

The significance of the words was lost on Jak as those fingers flicked lower, danced lightly across the damp, strained fabric they found there, and teasingly returned to their original resting place. He was fighting not to panic.

//Move, you idiot!// his mental voice was shrieking. //Do something! Shove him off, already!// The second the thought registered, though, Jak knew with absolute certainty that it wasn’t going to happen. It hadn’t been an option from the start.

He loved Daxter. He wanted this contact, craved it. Never thought he would get it. No matter what might happen later, no matter the negative repercussions that were sure to bitch slap him right in the face--right now he couldn’t push the redheaded little idiot away.

Gritting his teeth so hard it hurt Jak turned his flushed face into the cushions and closed his eyes tightly, bracing helplessly for the inevitable.

Daxter sighed. “Buddy, loosen up. Ya look scared ta death.”

//Oh, gee Dax, I wonder why!// He squirmed, a bit surprised when the hands left off tormenting his waist and again traveled up under the cloth of his shirt. This time, however, they took the garment with them. Startled, he made a grab for the shirt only to have it whisked over his head and out of his reach. “Hey!”

“Trust me, ya won’t be needin’ it.”

Before he could think up a suitable retort, a rather difficult task under the circumstances, Jak was struck dumb yet again by a wonderful sight: Daxter sat up straighter in his lap and began to struggle with the zipper of his own jacket. The racer immediately moved to help, rather clumsily slipping the stiff new material off his friend’s shoulders. He quivered slightly when the redhead wrestled off the underlying shirt, exposing an expanse of pale, satiny smooth skin.

//I can touch that, right? I really can? Ah, screw it, I’m touching anyway.//

Touch he did, hands drifting shakily up Daxter’s sides, over his shoulders, down his arms, and back up to trace lightly over his upper chest. Dax, still perched on top of the green-blonde, held still and allowed the exploration. He sighed happily as Jak’s hands wandered, head falling back and eyes closing in pleasure.

All too soon for Jak, though, the redhead seemed to shake himself out of his stupor. He felt deprived as Dax shooed his roaming hands away from all that flawless skin, but the feeling didn’t last long. Almost immediately Daxter draped himself completely on top of the racer, bringing them into full body contact for the first time.

Jak gasped as Daxter’s bare chest brushed and then firmly settled against his own, the feel of heated skin on skin burning in its intensity. He was given no time to adjust, however. A flurry of kisses and playful nips at once assailed his face and neck, scattered quickly from winged collarbones to the underside of his chin. The racer shivered violently, throwing his arms around Daxter and pulling them together completely.

//Precursors… so hot, so good…//

A low cry escaped him as Daxter’s teeth nipped at the base of his ear, the redhead’s quick tongue darting out to tease the sensitive patches of flesh below and behind it. Jak’s palms skimmed frantically up and down the smooth back they rested on before he plunged both hands into Daxter’s thick, fiery hair, desperate for something to hold onto as his hips began to roll of their own accord.

“Dax… Daxter,” he panted, voice soft and choked as he tried to bury his furiously blushing face in the crook of his friend’s neck. Too much, it was just too much.

An ear twitched spastically as Daxter laughed quietly into it, the hot breath and husky voice making him shudder. One of the redhead’s hands moved up to twine carefully in green-blonde strands and Jak pushed into the touch, not noticing the other hand drifting lower and lower.

A soft, mischievous whisper in his ear, but so quiet he almost didn’t hear it. “Hold ont’a yer goggles, hero.”

Jak blinked hazily, sensing something funny about the remark. //But I’m not even wearing my goggles right n—//

Then all he could do was arch his back and moan as Daxter’s hand slipped into his boxers, through soft green curls, and wrapped firmly around his length. His arms tightened convulsively, crushing their bodies closer together as he thrust mindlessly into that heavenly touch.

Daxter gasped, struggling against the former hero’s iron grip. “Jak, whoa! Too hard, pal, too hard!”

Jak immediately let go, clenching his fists in the coarse fabric beneath him instead. “S-sorry…”

“S’okay, big guy, but I gotta have a little room ta work, here.” The redhead chuckled in amusement. Pulling himself up until he was seated between Jak’s legs rather than on top of them, he lightly stroked the green-blonde’s hip in what might be deemed a soothing manner. “Plus, broken ribs don’t lend much ta the mood, know what I’m sayin’?”

Nodding shakily, Jak tried desperately to keep himself still. No matter how intense these feelings and sensations became, he couldn’t forget how much stronger he was than Dax. One ill-timed thrash in the throes of passion could knock the smaller redhead clean off the sofa, and the thought of accidentally hurting his friend was almost enough to make Jak forget what was going on in his pants.

Almost.

With his free hand Daxter tugged at Jak’s boxers, and the racer had just enough presence of mind left to lift his hips. Then the encumbering fabric was being pulled down just enough, Daxter’s grip on him tightened until it was just shy of perfect, and that hand began to move. Just a little.

Jak bit his lip until he tasted blood. Bracing himself as best he could, he instinctively tried to open his legs wider to give Daxter more room. The narrow couch made things difficult, though, restricted his range of motion, and he groaned and writhed in frustration.

Taking the strained sounds and movements as a sign to speed things up, the redhead did just that. Huffing in pleasure and relief, Jak quickly fell into a rhythm, bucking up into his friend’s hand. He couldn’t take much more of this amazing torture.

For just a moment, the green-blonde thought back to the last time he had been so utterly at the mercy of another. Erol had remarked to him once, rambling in the middle of a dark eco session, that he would be astounded if the “eco freak” would ever again be human enough to interact closely with anyone without killing them. At the time Jak, drifting on the edges of painful consciousness, had wondered the same thing. But now…

//In your face, Erol.// A pleased, somewhat animalistic grin forced its way onto Jak’s face and he threw his head back in a shower of golden-emerald silk, baring his teeth at the ceiling. //You tried, but you didn’t ruin me completely. Sucks to be you.//

With shaky hands he reached for Daxter, determined to reciprocate some of the mind-bending pleasure that was being shown to him before it was too late. He got a surprise, though, when his hands were unceremoniously smacked away from the redhead’s still-fastened belt.

“First time’s all fer you, pal. Just relax and enjoy.”

The serious tone startled Jak, making him struggle weakly upright. Propping himself up on his arms, he looked down at his friend. What he saw nearly tipped him over the edge right then.

Daxter was concentrating fiercely. Eyes narrowed intently, tongue caught slightly between his teeth, he was putting his all into making his friend feel fantastic. As Jak watched, one of Daxter’s sinfully long fingers flicked out on the upstroke to swipe through the building fluid at the very tip of Jak’s erection, making the quick glide of his hand against smooth flesh even smoother. For just a moment Jak realized that he would never be able to watch Daxter in the garage, hands covered in grease, working a slick wrench or ratchet again without growing immediately hard.

The redhead happened to glance up, caught Jak’s dumbstruck gaze, and, with a fiendish grin, swiftly tucked two sticky fingers into his mouth. Jak’s eyes bugged as Daxt winked and teasingly licked off the moisture, other hand never ceasing its wonderful motion over and around him. “Mmm… sweet like candy, babe.”

A warmth incomparable with any so far burst in the racer’s chest and spread like a flood of scalding motor oil through an engine. With a moaned curse he collapsed back onto the sofa, one arm flinging up to cover his face while the other grabbed at the cushions with enough strength to rip them. He couldn’t handle any more.

“Dax—!”

With his uncanny Jak-reading abilities, the redhead seemed to know exactly what he was trying so hard to get across. “Whenever yer ready, babe. Take yer time, no hurry here.”

Jak gasped out a deep, shaky breath and set his teeth. Tightened his already vicious grip on the sofa and drove himself even harder, even faster into his friend’s palm while Daxter’s soft murmurs of endearment and encouragement echoed in his ears.

He was almost there… just a little further… just needing that last push of Daxter’s unoccupied hand suddenly sneaking lower to gently brush somewhere he had never imagined would feel half as good as it did--when the beeping started.

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

Daxter blinked slowly, shaking his head as if to dispel some of the lust induced haze that seemed to have settled over him. Something was out of place.

Cocking his head and lifting one long ear slightly, the redhead paused and listened. A sound was penetrating their little sphere. A loud, annoying sound that was most definitely not a certain green-blonde moaning in pleasure, which happened to be the only sound Daxter wanted to hear at that particular moment.

“A’right, what the hell is that noise?”

Beneath him Jak shifted, chest heaving and eyes wild. It was only when the breathless racer began gesturing unsteadily toward the bedroom, where the beeping was obviously emanating from, that Dax understood what it was. It was Jak’s communicator. The redhead rolled his eyes, shifting pointedly in Jak’s lap.

“Listen, pal. I know what yer thinkin’ and the answer is no. Ignore it.” No way was he stopping now. Jak had been poised on the very edge a moment ago, and nothing short of a metal head invasion was going to keep Daxter from making his friend kiss the clouds. Besides, the sooner Jak was all sated and relaxed, the sooner they could move on from the appetizers to the main course.

Satisfied that the issue had been settled, Dax readjusted his grip on the hot, slick length still rock hard against his palm. The action earned him a whine of raw need from his friend, but no sooner had he done so than the ‘com crackled to life in the next room.

//“Chili pepper, if you have any idea what’s good for you you’ll get your lazy backside outta bed an’ pick up in the next ten seconds! Do *not* make me call you back, Jak!”//

Daxter groaned in frustration as Jak made a genuine effort to sit up. Damn him and his heroic self-control! And of course it *had* to be Sig, the one person they respected enough to not ignore. With a suffering sigh, he released Jak and clambered off the sofa. When the former hero made a move to pull up his boxers and follow, though, Dax pushed him back down and leveled a firm pointer finger in the racer’s face.

“Stay.”

Jak’s mouth hung open dumbly, dazed blue eyes crossed comically as he tried to focus on the finger. Dax had to grin, chuckling lightly as he readjusted himself as best he could and sought out the ‘com with all due haste. Who said manly, muscled guys couldn’t be adorable?

It hurt to think, it hurt more to walk, but he found the noisy little machine in the pocket of Jak’s racing jacket, dropped in a careless heap on the bedroom floor. Sig had almost finished counting threateningly to ten. Grumbling, Daxter flipped it on. “Yeah, what is it?”

The big man’s ominous tone immediately brightened to a much friendlier level. //“Hey cherry! How’s our favorite lil' fur ball today?”//

“Fine, fine.” //Just so damn horny I think I might actually die.// “Uh, was there somethin’ ya needed?” It took great self control to not fondle himself in the middle of the conversation. //Get ta the *point*, Sig. Some people have things ta do, racers ta screw. Ha, that rhymed.//

“Yeah. Is Jak somewhere I can talk to him for a minute?”

“Uh, nope, sorry, Jak’s busy.” Very busy. At the memory of exactly what they had been doing that had the green-blonde so occupied Daxter sifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, trying to ease some of the built up pressure. It was times like this when it definitely did not pay to wear tight pants. “Leave a message or hang up.”

Sig laughed, oblivious. //“Charming as always, aren’t ya. Listen, you tell Jak the whole crew’s headed back to Kras tomorrow morning. The new batch of parts and upgrades came in last night and we got a lot of work to do before the cars are ready for the next round of races, ya dig?”//

“The parts came in?” Dax couldn’t help it--the mechanic in him couldn’t wait to get back to work on improving the Javelin X. Suddenly the unexpected and highly unwanted interruption had become almost worthwhile. Almost. “Sweet. We’ll be there.”

//“Good. See ya then, cherry.”//

“Later.” On that positive note, Daxter turned off the ‘com and dropped it haphazardly on the dresser. His luck today really was turning out to be quite something. Grinning smugly, he cracked his knuckles and stretched leisurely. “Alrightie then. Back ta business!”

Unfortunately, there was a small kink in his plan. When the redhead bounded back into the living room, more than ready to take up where they had left off, it became immediately obvious that something was missing. The sofa was empty. Jak had disappeared.

//Oh, fantastic,// he griped to himself as his ears angled back in annoyance. //That chicken-shit, he ran off!//

Well, at least he hadn’t heard any doors slamming during his short conversation with Sig. Wherever he might be the racer was still in the house, and the house was not that big. Daxter would find his quarry eventually. Secure in this knowledge, he peeked into the kitchen.

There was Jak. While not exactly huddled in the corner by the small window, the racer wasn’t exactly holding himself with remarkable confidence, either. He jumped a mile when Dax cleared his throat, spinning away from the window to stare warily at the redhead.

His friend made quite the picture. Dax tried his best to keep his mouth from falling open at the sight: Jak draped in sunlight, flushed, sweaty, and trembling, hair mussed, still very obviously aroused… It was enough to make a Precursor drool.

“C’mon, now, Jakkie-boy. I know fer a fact ya know what ‘stay’ means.” Leaning insolently in the doorway, Daxter pretended to shake his head sadly. “I gotta tell ya, it’s gonna look pretty silly if I hafta chase ya around this place, so why don’cha be a good boy an’ come on back in here with Daxxie?” Smiling as seductively as he knew how, he crooked a finger playfully.

Jak’s eyes were still huge. Green-blonde locks swirled and bounced as he shook his head negatively, seemingly unable to form words.

“Aw, c’mon! Ya can’t tell me ya weren’t lovin’ it five minutes ago!” Daxter resisted the immediate impulse to just jump on his prey and be damned Jak’s stupid reservations. Who the racer thought he was fooling with the shy guy routine, Dax would never know. “Listen, pal, ya can quit beatin’ around the bush. I told ya before, it’s fine.”

Still shaking his head, Jak plunged equally shaky hands into his hair in frustration. Absently the redhead wondered if he was about to have some sort of nervous breakdown. “Daxter, no.”

“No? Wadda’ya mean, no?” Daxter was amazed, confused, and considerably pissed. Not only was he still so hard it hurt, but he had gone so far out of his way to offer this to his friend that he could barely remember where it had all started. And now here Jak was refusing? Dax didn’t think so. “Cut the crap, Jak. Get yer ass back in here an’ let’s get it on!”

The second the command left his mouth, though, the redhead regretted it. Jak nearly cringed, shuffling back in exactly the opposite direction that the other wanted him to move. Taking a deep breath to curb his annoyance, Dax rubbed a palm over his face. “Too fast. It was too fast, wasn’t it?”

Jak paused and then nodded hesitantly, blue eyes still wide and strangely sparkly.

Daxter did a double take, staring at his friend in disbelief. “Holy shit. Yer cryin’.”

“Huh?” The former hero started, cuffing roughly at his eyes with the back of one hand. “No I’m not. I just… you startled me, that’s all…”

Daxter fought the sudden need to bash his head against some hard, stationary object.

He’d made Jak cry. Almost cry. The last time that had happened they had been six years old and he had intentionally scared away a frog the quiet boy had been studying intently. This wasn’t the way things were supposed to be turning out at all. He had set high expectations for this morning, and none of them ended in a position anything like this.

Quickly, Dax made a spur of the moment decision. “Jak, listen, I’m sorry. I’m real sorry, buddy, I mean it. Just… chill out here fer a little bit, okay? For the love of all that’s good and holy, don’t run off! I gotta go talk ta somebody an’ I’ll be right back, okay?”

Jak looked a bit dazed, but nevertheless nodded slowly. Breathing a sigh of relief the redhead squirmed back into his shirt and gloves and took off, only turning back once to make sure Jak wasn’t doing the same and running out the back door. He had to get to the Naughty Ottsel, and fast.

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

Daxter had been gone less than a minute when Jak began to pace. He traversed the house thoughtlessly, at some moments stalking in agitation and wandering like one half asleep at others. His mind was in a whirl; he had no idea what to think.

Finally, though, Jak thought he should probably at least set the house to rights. Cleaning up the coffee he had spilled on the carpet might take his mind off things, and they wouldn’t have to walk around a huge brown sticky spot on the rug for the rest of forever. Menial labor also seemed the most prudent distraction, for now that Daxter was gone the prospect of taking care of the last vestiges of his desire himself held zero appeal.

Drifting back to the living room, the racer’s first reaction was to hover near the sofa. While he told himself he was focused on the stain next to the dilapidated piece of furniture, he was in all honesty staring at the rumpled cushions that had seemed so soft beneath his back less than fifteen minutes ago. If the ‘com hadn’t gone off when it did…

Jak flushed brightly, halfheartedly trying to wedge the cushions back into place. //Damn. It won’t matter what happens when he gets back, I’m going to remember that to the day I die. That might not be that long, but still. Hmm… I wonder who buzzed, anyway.//

Stooping, he grabbed up his shirt, the forgotten mug that remained thankfully unbroken, and the book that he had dropped when Daxter first tackled him. The latter begged to be opened and investigated, but Jak firmly placed it on the table instead. He had better things to think about, like why Daxter had been reading a book like that in the first place.

//Well, Jak, obviously he was trying to catch up on the summer reading list.//

Despondently, the green-blonde shrugged the shirt back on and collapsed across the very couch that had been an unwitting accomplice to his recent (and not altogether unpleasant) molestation.

So Daxter had been reading a book about gay sex. And then he had ambushed Jak, to astounding results. Just because Jak’s head had reservations about the surprise activity didn’t mean that Jak’s body hadn’t enjoyed every minute of it. The question was, did Dax just have an interest in the subject for whatever reason and simply use his friend as a convenient experiment? Or…

“Aaarggh!” Unable to keep still, the green-blonde left the sofa in favor of the bedroom.

He was Jak Mar, damn it, and as such was far above wallowing in worry and indecision. He would behave like the reasonable adult he was. He would get dressed, have some breakfast, and wait for Daxter to return. And when his friend did come back, Jak would find out his motives. It was just that simple.

Calm and composed once more, Jak confidently stripped off his shirt. It was wrinkled beyond repair after their little tussle and, as they now had laundry soap for the first time in weeks, he could afford to put on another. He was reaching for a fresh one when he happened to glance at himself in the mirror… and noticed the hickeys.

“Precursors, why--?!”

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

Daxter hit the doors of the saloon at a run. “Tess, we got a problem!”

Behind the bar the blonde girl winced at the noise of the slamming door, then sighed. “Well good morning to you, too. Daxxie, don’t you think it’s a little early for major disasters?”

“Believe me, baby, I wish it was. I totally screwed up.”

“Wait.” Tess motioned him to fidgeting silence for the time it took her to put away the bottles she was organizing. She came out from behind the counter and situated herself comfortably next to him on a high stool. “Okay, go ahead. What did you do?”

Groaning miserably, the redhead folded his arms on the bar and hid his face in them. “I think I just freaked Jak out big time.”

At the mention of the tough racer Tess was immediately on the alert. “Oh, no. What happened?”

“Well, see, last night I went ta see Razer…”

As quickly as he could Daxter filled her in on the events of the night before, leading up to what had happened that morning. He might have left out a few of the juicier details, but was sure she got the idea. By the time he finished telling his story Tess was shaking her head in despair.

“I can’t believe this.”

“Me either!” The redhead’s frantic gesturing belied just how confounded he was over the whole situation. “I was doin’ everythin’ right an’ he was lovin’ it—we were both lovin’ it! Then the ‘com went off, I answered it, came back, an’ he apparently found a chastity belt while I was gone! I tell ya what, Tessy, I—”

“—have still not talked to him!” To the redhead’s utter amazement Tess suddenly seized his long ears in both hands, forcing their faces within centimeters of each other. “Daxxie, don’t you *get* it? He doesn’t know why you came on to him! For all he knows you still have no idea how he feels about you.”

“Wha…?” Dax was now a bit on the freaked out side himself. Tess was nearly screaming.

“You,” she nearly growled, punctuating each word with a tug at the captured ears that made Daxter’s head jerk back and forth alarmingly, “have got—to talk—to him! I can’t spell it out for you any plainer than that!”

“Okay, okay!” He fought the purely ottsel reflex to squeal in panic and hide under the bar. “I’ll talk ta him, Tess, I will—just lemme go!”

Breathing hard, the blonde finally loosened her grip and allowed her victim to scramble away. “You bet you will! Now get back there and do it right! With passion, with finesse, with all the love and reassurance that poor boy deserves! And read those chapters you skipped, too!”

Daxter was already so far out the door he barely heard her. Holy dang, where had his perky little blonde gone and who was this she-devil with fire in her eyes? It would have been sexy if it weren’t so damned terrifying.

- - - - - -

Still growling, Tess viciously polished the worn wood of the bar until it squeaked beneath her dust rag. “Stupid, stupid, *stupid* boy…!”

Her infinite patience and cheer were being tested to the limit. She loved Daxter, she really did, but if he managed to blow the wonderful opportunity that had been dumped squarely in his oblivious little lap she swore she would—!

“’Mornin’ sugar,” Jinx called cheerfully, the wooden stairs leading down from the upstairs living quarters creaking beneath his heavy boots. “What was all the racket? I could’a caught another hour’s sleep, easy… Tess? Wat’cha lookin’ at, baby doll?”

A strange gleam in her eyes, Tess sized him up. Stubbly jaw, uncombed hair, bare chest, unbuckled pants… what the hell. All her frustration had to go *somewhere.* An evil smirk in place, she snapped the rag expertly as Jinx’s ears drooped and eyes widened in realization.

“Come to mama!”

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

Morning slowly faded into afternoon as Jak lay staring into space, alone with his thoughts.

After the hickey incident, which in and of itself had successfully reestablished the racer’s panic response, he had finally managed to calm down again. Though he hadn’t been able to force himself to eat anything, he had gotten together a bucket of water and a sponge and tried his best against the coffee spot. He was rather proud; against the rest of the grunge ground into the old carpet the brown area near the sofa was now nearly unnoticeable. He had also found and put away the antibacterial cream from the first aid kit, though he had no idea what it was doing on the living room table.

Now, on his back on the bed for lack of a better place to be, Jak gazed blankly at the ceiling. Dax had been gone a while. So absorbed in blank thoughts was he that the green-blonde almost missed the telltale sound of the front door opening and closing quietly, heralding his friend’s return. Almost.

Suddenly realizing that he was no longer alone and taking note of his vulnerable position, Jak sat up in a hurry. Warily he watched the open entrance to the bedroom, ready in the event of another ambush. Daxter wouldn’t find it so easy to take him down a second time.

However, in reality the racer had nothing to fear. It was not a cocky redhead who peeked into the room a quiet minute later, but a rather meek ottsel.

Catching sight of Jak around the edge of the door, Orange Lightning grinned hesitantly before creeping slowly into the room. “Hey there, pal. Only me, back again ta brighten yer day!”

Relieved beyond measure, Jak unconsciously relaxed. “Hey.”

“Yeah…”

They regarded each other for long, silent, incredibly awkward moments. Finally, just when Jak didn’t think he could take any more, Daxter sprang onto the bed and into his arms.

“Ya know, I think it’s been way too long since I made the dumb animal noise. Think ya could help me out?”

Laughing unsteadily as the tension of the situation immediately dissolved, Jak scooped his friend up and squeezed. “Yeah, I guess I could handle that.”

Daxter obligingly went limp as the racer’s hands began to pet and stroke. Jak rubbed carefully between the tiny shoulders and, very cautiously, the ruff of fur on the narrow chest. He scratched gently under the ottsel’s uplifted chin, behind his ears, and at the nape of his neck. For a long time he held his small friend in his lap, not saying a word, just reassuring himself with every touch.

It was only when Daxter was sprawled facing his friend with his back resting against Jak’s upraised knees, tail twitching in contentment as his back paws were caught and tickled lightly by the relaxed racer, that the ottsel spoke.

“So. Jak.” He looked up meaningfully, and Jak was immediately caught in his gaze. “We gotta talk.”

A cold chill wormed its way up the racer’s spine. For a moment he wanted to deny it. Everything was fine, everything was normal, they didn’t need to ruin any lifelong friendships today… “Yeah. Yeah, we do.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll start. Just listen first an’ don’t interrupt, alright? We got enough drama in our lives already so I’m gonna make this as simple as I can.”

“Right.” Jak braced himself as Daxter took a deep breath. The moment of truth.

“Okay. Lemme just get this off on the right foot here an’ say right off the bat that I… well, I… love ya, big guy. In all the ways those words mean. And I know how completely cheesy that sounds but don’t stop me, I’m on a roll!”

Jak wouldn’t have been able to stop his friend if he had wanted to. He felt frozen in shock, sure that his face and ears were stuck in some sort of goofy position. Had he really just heard those words from Dax? Dare he presume to hope…?

“Furthermore, I happen ta know fer a fact that you, Jak Mar, love me too. Bottom line? This is gonna work. So don’t worry yer little blonde head, babe.”

Jak hated himself for it, but he couldn’t simply accept everything just like that. “But Dax, you don’t even… you’re not… I mean… damn it, you like women—!”

Quick as the lightning his ottsel persona was named for Daxter whipped his foot paw out of Jak’s numb fingers and landed it squarely on the racer’s mouth. “No interruptions, I said! Look, pal, yer the most important thing I got, alright? Just take a minute ta bask in the fact that you just got promoted ta the esteemed position of my first an’ last main man.”

Delirious happiness was trying its best to course through the green-blonde. “So, what, I’m like your…?”

“My main squeeze, my one an’ only, the official recipient of all things sexy an’ awesome exported from Dax-ville on the love train--that’s you, sweet-cheeks.”

Jak felt like someone had wrapped warm hands around his heart and squeezed when his friend looked up and gave him a lopsided, though clearly heartfelt, grin. He suddenly wanted to cry for real. “Dax…” Not knowing quite what to do with his hands, he let his fingers faintly trace the yellow rings of fur around the ottsel’s arm. “Are you sure you’re not doing this just for me?”

“Nah.” Daxter managed not to look too guilty. “I might’a been… just a little bit, at first. But hey, ya know I’m too selfish ta let it stay that way. Now I’m totally in it fer both of us. That said, anythin’ else ya feel like ya wanna add ta our little talk?”

“Not that you haven’t already said, I guess.”

“Great, then let’s wrap this up, huh buddy? I’m starvin’ an’ if I remember correctly we got some… ah… unfinished business ta tend to after breakfast.”

Far from being put off by his friend’s careless tone, Jak was grateful for it. It just proved that Daxter was still Daxter, he was still Jak, and they were still a team. Just closer now than ever before. Smiling so hard it hurt he scooped Daxter up once more, tucking the ottsel’s head under his chin and hugging him tightly. “I really, *really* love you, Dax.”

Panting a bit for breath, Daxter managed to sling his arms around Jak’s neck in order to hug back. “I know. But jeez, big guy, watch the grip!”

Finally rising from his position propped up against the headboard, Jak climbed off the bed and boosted Daxter up onto his shoulder. He really wanted to carry him into the kitchen, though, didn’t want to stop holding him yet. Jak flushed lightly as he realized that, had Daxter not currently been ottsel, they surely would have kissed a moment ago…

“Jak. Hey, Jak!” A swift tug at his ear brought the embarrassed racer out of his romantic musings. “Let’s go, pal. Kitchen, food, pronto!”

“I’m going, already. Furry slave driver.” Muttering good-naturedly, Jak tugged lightly at his friend’s swishing tail as they meandered toward their late breakfast. “Hey, Dax?”

“Yeah?”

“When did you realize that I… you know… how I felt?”

“Eh, a while ago,” the ottsel replied carelessly. “What day was it when we all hung out at the bar?”

Jak thought for a moment and then stopped in his tracks, staring up at Daxter in horror. “That was almost a week ago!”

“Yeah? And?”

“The other night at the palace!” Jak yelled, face alight with indignation. “You were *teasing* me!”

“Uh, he-heh… oops?”

“Daxter!” Jak grabbed for the furry miscreant but missed, hands swiping at empty space as the ottsel bounded off his shoulder plate and shot into the kitchen. Jak immediately gave chase. “Get back here, you little-—! I’m gonna pound your scrawny ass!”

“Is that a promise?” A gleeful cackle from under the rickety table. “Come on, babe, I was just messin’ with ya. It was fer the greater good, I swear!”

“Bull shit! That was hell, do you understand me, Daxter? That was *torture!* I’m gonna kill you, I really am.” The racer growled as he shoved a shoulder under the table and made another grab.

“Gonna kill me, huh? What happened ta ‘oh, I love ya *sooooo* much, Daxter, really I do?’ No, hey, stoppit! I was only kiddin’ Jak, I promise!”

Jak had to laugh himself as he finally caught and mercilessly ruffled the shrieking, squirming ottsel. Despite the fact that he felt like a complete and utter fool, he also felt pretty damned amazing. He didn’t have to hide anything, didn’t have to worry any more about keeping secrets from his best friend. Things were back to the way they should be. What could possibly be better?

Little did he realize…

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

To be concluded!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
(2nd) AN: ……I feel like such a pervert XD But then again, I also feel the slightest bit evil. You can throw slippers at me if you want. Anyway, I want to take this opportunity to give a special shout-out to Sej, who does an astoundingly good job of keeping after me to work on this poor neglected fic! Hugs and kissus for you, Sej!

On that note… this is not the last chapter. There are still two more to go, leaving us with a nice total of ten. Ten is a good number, don’t you think? So I’ll get to work on that as fast as I can. Now, the part you know you’ve been waiting for… on with the outtakes!

- - - - -

Daxter: (smirk) Ya totally cried.

Jak: No I didn’t.

- - - - -

Daxter: (runs back into the bar) Hey Tessy, I almost forgot ta ask ya if—-

Jinx: Heeeeeelp!!! Raaaaape!!! (cries like a nancy)

Tess: Don’t be such a baby!

Daxter: O-kay… (inches out, then runs for his life)

- - - - -

Daxter: Yeah ya did. Ya cried.

Jak: I did not cry!

- - - - -

Jak: So, uh… (blush) Should we kiss now?

Ottsel Dax: Will ya be offended by orange fur in yer mouth?

Jak: Probably, yeah.

Ottsel Dax: Then no.

- - - - -

Daxter: Just admit it, pal. No one’s gonna make fun of ya fer cryin.’

Jak: For the last time, I did not cry!

Daxter: Ya don’t hav’ta get all defensive about it, jeez…

Jak: I’m not being defensive!

- - - - -

Ottsel Dax: Hold on, should I change back so we can do the big romantic kissin’ scene?

Jak: Will you try to rape me again?

Ottsel Dax: Probably, yeah.

Jak: Then no.

- - - - -

Ottsel Dax: Hey Jak, why ya wearin’ yer scarf all of a sudden? Ya cold?

Jak: No, but it might have something to do with the fact that you tried to hickey your name on my goddam neck!

Ottsel Dax: Hey, I can’t help it if ottsels are territorial!

- - - - -

Jak: The other night at the palace! You were *teasing* me!

Ottsel Dax: (smirk) Well, duh.

Jak: I’m gonna kick your scrawny ass!

Dark Jak Shoulder Devil: (eating popcorn as he watches) Ha, ha, look’it him chase the fur ball!

Light Jak Shoulder Angel: (rolls eyes) Small minds are easily amused.

Dark: Ha, he caught him! (pause) Hey, yeah, you go, Jakkie! Spank that naughty little ottsel, aw-right!!

Light: (shrieks) No, Jak, bestiality is a sin!

Dark: So is sodomy. Want some popcorn?

- - - - -

Dax: Ya know, we’re gonna hafta find somethin’ really clever ta yell when we get it on.

Jak: (sweat) Uh… what do you mean?

Dax: Fer instance, you could moan somethin’ like “oh, Dax, you’re an *animal* in bed!”

Jak: I’d rather not, thanks.

Dax: An’ I could say somethin’ like “ah, Jak, yer my *hero*!”

Jak: (groan) Daxter, that is lame! And embarrassing! I’m not saying anything like that.

Dax: But there’s so many dirty weapon/vehicle metaphors we could—

Jak: I’m leaving. (does so)

Dax: Oh yeah? Well, see if I let you test drive *this* machine, bub!

- - - - -

Tess: Hey, Daxxie, I got you and Jak some of those cute “seme/uke” shirts!

Jak: (sweat) Uh, thanks, Tess… I think…

Dax: Hey, wait a second, why’d ya give me the uke shirt?!

Tess: Sorry sweetie, they didn’t have seme shirts your size.

(and not his ottsel size, just to be clear…)

Dax: …that’s it. I’m callin’ my lawyer. This is *clearly* discrimination!

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