My Best Friend

Title: My Best Friend

Author: Jemisard

Fandom: Jak and Daxter/Jak 2: Renegade

Pairing: Jak/Daxter

Rating: NC-17

E-mail address for feedback: jemisard@internode.on.net

Disclaimers: I have borrowed them without permission for my own nefarious plans. I promise to return them, in more or less the same condition.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content. Adult themes. Non-con
***************************************************************************

Red runs into the gutter, staining the concrete.

A boy sits, keening into his hands, hysterical and shattered sobs wrenching from between his lips as he rocks back and forth. His clothes are blood stained and torn, marks of a wild animal attack ripped into his pale skin.

On the ground before him lies his best friend, three bullets in his brain. It had taken three to put him down, the first two had just pissed him off more as he charged his attacker.

The gun that killed him lies on the ground, glowing menacingly in the darkness.

For once, the guard are nowhere to be found.


Daxter laughed and jumped up on the sidewalk, spinning around a post. "Ya know, life's great tonight! I'm me, you're you, the hot little lady over there is a hot little lady, what could be better?" He jumped through the air, slamming into Jak's chest, sending them both sprawling. "I'm not two feet tall anymore and don't fit on your shoulder... er, sorry about."

Jak scowled for a second, but Daxter looked so apologetic, sitting on his chest. "Forgiven. Now get off me, you weigh a tonne."

"Hah! My sexy and boyish frame can't weigh half as much as yours!" The red head poked his finger into his friend's nose before standing up, holding out his hand. "Jeez, I wasn't half right."

"Very funny." Jak let Dax pull him upright, staring as the arm went around his shoulders moments later.

"Where shall we go now?"

"Well, Tess has closed up for the night to repair the damage you did and Keira has banned you from rocking up at the shop while you're drunk, so I don't know."

"I'm not drunk!" The red head look indignant.

"Not for you. Not compared to that time you drank yourself into unconsciousness and tried to kiss me while you were still an ottsel." The blonde sniggered.

"I did not! I never! I like... blondes, not you!"

Not the wittiest retort either of them had heard.

"I am blonde."

"Not really blonde." Dax clarified. "Just kinda blonde."

"Does that mean you only kinda like me?" He teased.

"Don't mess my words about, little man!"

"I don't need to, you're doing just fine on your own."

Daxter pointed, opened his mouth, shut it again and huffed indignantly. Jak could almost see the instinct to raise his hackles go over him.

"Grr."

It wasn't a real growl. It was barely passable as a pretend growl. Jak started laughing.

"Oh, you mean... I was better off being small and furry. At least then the girls would cuddle me into their breasts whenever you picked on me. Well, Tess did."

"Tess would still probably cuddle your face into her breasts if you played the pathetic, downtrodden animal."

"Probably." Daxter grinned at the thought. "Not that the Daxter love machine hasn't had other babes breasts to please him..."

"Get real, Dax, remember who you're talking to? I grew up with you. If you've so much as kissed a girl, I'll eat my Vulcan mod."

"Rub it in, why don'cha'?" Daxter sat down suddenly, sighing. "Not my fault the only lady about was Keira and she's only ever had eyes for you. And then the whole furry thing... not many girls find animals sexy."

"Aw, don't mope, Dax." Jak sat down and wrapped his arm around Daxter's slim shoulders.

"Not moping. One day I'll find someone who can truly appreciate the sex machine that I am." He grinned and gave Jak a victory sign.

Jak wasn't watching. A Krimzon Guard approached them, weapon deceptively lowered. "You two, move along."

"But we ain't doin' any harm..." Daxter whined.

"Move along."

The weapon raised, the intended trajectory was to Daxter's head, a sharp clip to remind him who was in charge.

Jak's hands snatched the weapon and snapped the barrel, he was on his feet, slamming the guard into the wall a second later. "Don't lay a hand on him."

"Jak, don't bother with him. He ain't worth it."

The blonde looked over his shoulder. "You want I'll kick his arse for you."

"Aw, that's sweet. Quit being mushy, Jak! I'm not one of your dates... not that you have dates."

Then, the guard made a bad choice.

He chose to punch Jak.

The crack of metal on bone and flesh was drowned out by the crackle of eco and the inhuman scream of Jak's voice as he clutched his head, the colour leeching from his skin and hair, black horns curling up and out of his skull.

Daxter stared, blank and motionless, as Jak tore into the guard, claws raking through metal and skin like it were butter. The guard was dead within seconds, face a mask of horror.

He never had time to sound the alarm.

The red head stared, eyes turning upwards as the sickly apparition stalked towards him, blood dripping from black claws.

"Jak?"

Barely a whisper. The creature continued forwards, eyes locked on his best friend.

"Jak. It's me."

The bloody hands reached for him. He shrunk back, not quite able to run, not able to believe Jak would actually hurt him.

Claws in his tunic, hauling him up, slamming him into the wall. His head banged into the metal, he tried to find his footing again but Jak was already up against him, chest hard against his own, able to feel every breath through the blood stained mouth.

"Jak..."

Normally, Jak would vent his anger and frustration on Krimzon Guard until he wore it out, at which point he and Dax would flee the site of the massacre, hiding out until the alert went down.

No one disturbed the streets. No one but Daxter and this monster his best friend became.

Daxter tried not to scream as Jak's teeth closed on his throat, his body pressed flush to his prisoner's. He was burning hot, uncomfortably so, Daxter struggled in the tight grip, crying out louder as the teeth sank deeper, a hand in his hair forcing his head back further.

The other hand grabbed his wrist and held it up, forcing the red head's body to stretch and arch to relieve the discomfort.

Silence.

Choking on his breath, Daxter opened his eyes. He could still feel Jak's teeth, tight on his windpipe, but they hadn't closed and the hands were rough, but not cutting his skin.

He didn't dare move. Anything might trigger the murderous rage he had seen so often.

Slowly, the teeth loosened, he felt one horn brush under his chin as the other moved, until they looked each other in the eye.

Those black, soulless pits seemed almost amused by Daxter's fear.

"Jak, it's me. Daxter."

Jak growled and slammed his weight into Daxter's body again, bruising force crushing Daxter between the wall and Jak. His hand – the one not pinned by Jak's – grabbed a horn, holding, almost warning. "Lemme go, Jak."

He was flying, spinning in the air, alcohol making the world reel even further and then he was smashing into the wall again, struggling against the heat across his back.

"Jak? What are you doin'?"

Burning pain across his ribs and hip and with shock, he realised it was Jak's claws, tearing his clothes and skin. He wailed, trying grab Jak's horns, his hand, anything to make him stop.

His hands were grabbed and twisted and held, he choked on his pain, sinking down, trying to relieve the burn. "Jak!"

The other hand dragged over his back, a rumbling growl cutting the air, then a rough grab at Daxter's thigh.

Then, leather snapping, claws tearing and Daxter realised it was not to hurt him, that was just a side effect.

He was stripping him.

"No! Jak, don't!" He kicked blindly, flailing for contact. Jak snarled and shoved harder and now he felt it, hard against the steel muscles of his friend's body, harder, hotter and he cried out again, trying to free his hands from the vicious grip.

Cold air and searing rakes of claws and he felt horribly exposed, shamed and vulnerable as he yelled and kicked against his attacker.

A sharp blow connected his head to the wall again, making the world ring and sway, stunning him into silence.

In the few moments that it took Daxter to clear his head, he didn't resist the hand that spread him, only aware enough to feel the agony as something impossibly hard and huge was brutally shoved into his body.

He screamed.

Jak growled again, his weight moving back for a moment, more pain splitting Daxter apart, and then he shoved back. Every motion was agony, each worse than the one that came before. He screamed until he was gagging on pain and then he sobbed into the wall, tears blurring his vision as the torture forced the fight from his body.

He wanted to collapse, but the hand twisting his arms forced him to stay upright to the bitter end, when more scalding heat rushed into him and he felt the invasion rip out and he was spun around again to face his attacker.

Black eyes stared at him, lipless mouth smiling cruelly. His arms hung limply over the broad shoulders, which he once considered his safe place.

He felt the gun.

The rough tongue licked up his cheek, taking up the tears before pulling away. Daxter took the gun with him, collapsing to the ground, his legs unable to hold his weight.

More pain as he sat, and he couldn't escape it.

Jak, his bestest buddy, through thick and thin Jak was looking at him from behind those black eyes.

Jak, who was staring at him with rising lust again and he couldn't go through it again, he wouldn't go through it, he'd been.... ....and Jak had.... no, once was killing him, the pain, worse, the humiliation, the one person he had trusted and he felt like nothing because Jak...

Jak moved forwards and Daxter brought up the gun and fired and kept pulling the trigger until Jak collapsed onto the ground, blood pouring from his head the same as it pooled from Daxter's injuries.

Daxter dropped the gun and realised what he had done. He'd shot his best friend.

He'd shot his rapist.

He keened and clutched his body, rocking back and forth in desperate need.