Understanding

 

AN: As promised, here is the last installment of the string of stories that “Fun & Games” and “Hush” began.  Time to finally see how everything will work out for our boys!

 

Characters:  Jak and Dax belong to Naughty Dog, Inc.  I seem to borrow them incessantly, though.

 

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     The mirror had become Daxter’s new best friend.  His newest new best friend was the big glass on the wall behind the bar.  He stared deeply into it as if trying to discern the mysteries of the universe.  In reality, though, he was merely watching in fascination as his ears—long, pointed, and devoid of orange fuzz—twitched.  The bar sure was noisy that night.

     It was a celebration, of sorts.  Tess was in her element.  She laughed and joked, poured free rounds, practically gave away the Naughty Ottsel’s stock of hard liquor.  Daxter was glad she seemed so happy.  After the little talks they had been having lately, it was a relief.  But then, getting back the body you were born with tended to put you in a good mood no matter what else was going on in your life.

     “Why don’t you give me a smile, not-so-fluffy muffin?”

     The redhead managed a grin as Tess leaned over the bar unexpectedly and grabbed his cheeks.  “Hey, Tessy-baby.  What’s shakin’?”

     “Just noticing you sitting here all by your lonesome.  Why aren’t you the life of the party, Daxxie?  You should be happy tonight!”

     “Oh, I’m happy, Tessy.  You bet I’m happy.  I’m just… thinkin’.”

     She nodded knowingly.  “I couldn’t help noticing Jak sneaking out the back a while ago, either.  Any thoughts on that?”

     “More than a few.”  Daxter smiled somewhat sheepishly, tracing a finger around the rim of his mostly empty beer mug.  “I guess he’s never gonna know what’s what unless I give him a rundown.  Poor guy never could take a hint.  Gotta hit him in the face with somethin’ obvious before he’ll get the message.”

     “Sounds reasonable.”  Tess returned the soft smile, then leaned forward even more.  A gentle peck was planted on his forehead.  “Don’t worry too much, Daxxie.  Some things are just meant to be, you know?  It’ll turn out alright.”

     Daxter savored the fleeting contact, steeling his nerve with the heartfelt reassurances.  Tess was good at that.  When she pulled back he stood up, almost stumbling when he suddenly realized that he no longer had to jump from stool to floor.  “Thanks, Tessy.  I’ll get back in touch tomorrow.”

     “I’m holding you to that.  Goodnight, sweetie.”

     With one last nod to the pretty blonde Daxter began to pick his way through the boisterous crowd toward the back of the saloon.  He had a pretty good idea where his best friend had disappeared to, and if he took the back way it wouldn’t take long to catch up.

 

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     Daxter arrived at the palace some time later.  Haven City was dark and often cold at night, but the brisk walk hadn’t bothered the redhead in the slightest.  It gave him time to organize his thoughts and clear his head, and the smallish but still powerful scatter gun from Tess in a new holster at his hip did the job discouraging potential troublemakers.  Daxter might not have been the biggest guy out there, but he sure wasn’t going to take any crap.  Gone were the cringing little ottsel days; he was damn determined about that.

     “Hey, guys.  How’s it hangin’?”  Case in point—the night guards at the entrance looked like real brutes, one step up the evolutionary line from lurkers, but weren’t really so bad at all.  You just had to be brave enough to get to know them.  They nodded amiably and let him stroll right in.  It paid to have connections.

     The palace was almost deserted.  Everyone seemed to have gone home for the night, or if they lived in residence gone to bed.  The trip up stairs and along winding hallways to the residential suites was uneventful, giving Daxter even more time to think. 

     In the few days since he had unexpectedly lost his fur coat Jak had been tiptoeing around him on eggshells.  No… they had been tiptoeing around each other.  Dax had to admit that he hadn’t exactly taken the role of go-getter on himself.  They had been waiting for this moment, this opportunity, for literally years.  And now what did he do?  As usual, he stalled around and waited for Jak to make the first move to action.  Waited for it to seem “safe” to respond himself.  If he never showed all his cards, he could never truly lose.

     Will you stop bein’ a pussy already?! Daxter snarled to himself as he stalked down a long, dim corridor on a roundabout route towards the room the duo shared when at the palace.  Jakkie-boy is not gonna reject you!  If he wanted ya as an annoying little furball he’ll want ya as an annoying little redhead.   He had to hold onto that truth. 

     They had gotten one perfect summer.  Enough time alone together to discover each other sexually.  Enough time for Daxter to devote himself to Jak entirely and absolutely—and never find the courage to tell him so.  After their disastrous trip to Misty Island Daxter had felt sick for his ill-timed hesitation, but also almost relieved.  There was no way Jak would be happy about an admission of love from him after that, he had assumed.  But, just maybe, it would be better that way.  Then, when Jak grew up a little more and moved on with Keira or some other pretty girl, as he surely would regardless, Dax could take cold comfort in the fact that he wouldn’t be any more in the way than he already would have been.  The green-blonde could never be expected to stay romantically bound to an ottsel.

     But Jak hadn’t moved on.  Not really.  It had taken a few years to come out, of course.  But once those long-submerged feelings had once again reached the surface and been acknowledged by the both of them…

     Daxter smiled wryly to himself.  Well, honestly, what did ya expect the big guy ta do?  “No” ain’t exactly in his vocabulary.  He wanted ya even if ya did shed a little between the sheets.  Made it work great, too. 

     The hero turned racer had in no uncertain terms let Daxter know that he was still very much wanted.  Needed.  Desired.  It blew the redhead’s mind a little, now that he was able to look back on those secretive nights as a thing of the past.  Jak had accepted him fur and paws and tail and all.  Apparently still found him sexy, just because of who he was.  Dax had been sure, for those few shining nights, that if he could only succeed in becoming human again everything would be perfect.  Better than perfect.

     Now that his dream was reality, though… well, there were still kinks to work out.

     Jak was giving him time now, he knew.  The chance to reacclimatize to his human body that seemed familiar and yet completely strange at the same time.  He was also being given the perfect chance to try again with Tess, if he so chose.

     He didn’t choose.  Neither of them did.  Tess had known for a long time that something simmered between the Demolition Duo, barely under the surface.  She knew right away when it finally began to boil over, long past due.  And she was deeply sad about losing smooching privileges with her fluffy muffin.  But she would also live through it. 

     It’s time for something to finally go the way you boys want it to, for a change.  You two deserve to be happy.  Yep. Tessy was a babe in a million.

     One staircase and a hallway until their room.  He had better be thinking of a golden line to open the little discussion that he and Jak would—ooh, a mirror.  Emergency pit stop.  Daxter quickly backtracked until he stood face to face with the large, ornate mirror on the wall.  It was almost as long as he was tall, and hung in a gilded frame, no less.  Not too shabby.  There was even a small lantern hung nearby, eco-light shining dimly for his viewing pleasure.

     Carefully the redhead readjusted his goggles and patted his hair back into place.  He made a face and surreptitiously ran his fingers over his freckled cheeks.  No harm in making sure there was absolutely no hint of the orange and yellow fuzz that had so recently adorned them.  It wasn’t entirely impossible for something to have changed in the time since he had last seen himself.

     He was so preoccupied that he failed to notice the almost silent shadow creeping toward him until another face suddenly appeared beside his own in the glass, forming like a phantom out of the darkness. 

     Daxter let out an involuntary squeal of fright and alarm, nearly jumping out of his skin when the looming presence over his shoulder suddenly registered.  A split second later, though, a big hand clapped over his mouth and another firmly grabbed his shoulder to pull him back from instant bolting flight.

     “Dax, whoa!  It’s just me.”

     Slowly, slowly, the redhead felt his hammering heart begin to calm.  He sagged in Jak’s hold, letting the larger racer support most of his weight.  The hand cautiously moved away from his mouth.

     “You know, if it means that much to you I’m sure we can get Ashelin to have a mirror put in our room.”

     “Shut it, wise ass,” Dax hissed.  He met his friend’s eyes in the glass they were still facing, giving him his best miffed glare.  “You scared the crud out’a me!  What’re you doin’ sneakin’ around this late?”

     “Just walking.  I couldn’t really sleep.” 

     “Oh.” 

     His first and foremost question answered, Daxter simply sank back into Jak’s arms and resumed mirror watching.  Hard as it was to believe, the view had improved exponentially now that Jak’s reflection had joined his own.  He hadn’t had the big guy physically close enough these past few days to get an idea of what they looked like together now.  Just like everything else he remembered the old familiar picture was the same and yet so very, very different.

     Jak didn’t squeeze him, but didn’t make any move to let him go.  He too kept his eyes on the mirror, curiosity plain as day.  “I thought you’d stay at the bar a lot later than this.  Did Tess give away all the beer already?”

     “Nah, but she’s well on her way.”  Dax had to chuckle at that.  “It’s her party, really.  I played guest of honor for a while then slipped out on the down low, know what I’m sayin’?  I had somethin’ else on my mind.”  Contentedly he leaned back into the solid chest behind him, marveling at the fact that he was being held and his feet were still on the floor. 

     “And what were you thinking about?” 

     Daxter considered the question, its seriousness tucked behind a thin veil of humor.  It was the perfect chance for him to make the first move for a change.  He leaned back and did his best to tuck his head affectionately under Jak’s chin—much harder than it had been recently, given that he wasn’t all that much shorter than Jak now.

     “Just thinkin’ about how much I love ya.  How I should’a said it that day on the beach.  Wanted to, but I wussed out.  I wish I’d told ya.”

     Jak tensed behind him, eyes in the mirror wide and disbelieving, and Daxter couldn’t keep himself from flushing.  Was it really that novel when he tried to be serious and heartfelt?  He wasn’t a loudmouthed showoff all the time.  Before he could think up a properly sarcastic comment, though, Jak’s arms were tightening around him and suddenly he could hardly breathe.  Well.  It seemed the racer had taken that pretty positively, if the fact that he had buried his face in the side of Daxter’s neck and was kissing could be gone by.

     Oh Precursors, that tickled!  Dax squirmed helplessly, trying to keep his giggles and snorts of laughter quiet lest he wake anyone that might be trying to sleep nearby.  This dark, quiet corridor was his and Jak’s for the moment, and they didn’t need an audience intruding to tell them to pipe the hell down.  It was hard, though.  Jak couldn’t seem to help himself and continued pestering, making quiet little growls that to Daxter’s giddy mind had to be stemming from pure happiness and the desire to play now that he knew it was still allowed.

     “J-jak, quit it!  I’m gonna start laughin’!”

     Jak didn’t quit it.  Not that the redhead had thought he would.  Fine, then.  Time for one last mischievous game.

     “Hey!”

     Jak was unprepared when Daxter ducked suddenly, almost straight down with arms raised over his head, and his skinny form slipped right out of Jak’s grasp despite the instant tightening of the racer’s own arms.  A fiendish grin and a wordless dare were sent back over his shoulder before Dax turned, darted out of the small ring of lantern light, and ran.

     An unmistakable gleam in his eyes, Jak was after him in an instant.  They made it half way down the hall, boots thumping insolently on the hard tiles, before the crash came.  It was ear splittingly loud in quiet of night, and Daxter had to cackle with unsuppressed laughter—in the dark Jak hadn’t remembered to avoid the little decorative table against one wall.  Vicious curses as the racer struggled to his feet also seemed hysterical, and Dax kept running.  Now it really was important that they flee the scene before whoever had been woken by the sudden din stumbled out of their beds intent on shedding the noisemakers’ blood.

     The pounding footfalls resumed mere moments later, hard on his heels and more determined than ever.  The redhead managed to keep one jump ahead, reaching the last flight of stairs first and deftly avoiding any attempts to trip him up on the steps.  He hit the door of their borrowed room still running and bolted through it, slamming the heavy wood seconds before Jak hit the outside of it with a rattling thud. 

     “Damn it, Daxter!”

     Dax bounced away from the door, practically quivering with playful fight-or-flight nerves while he waited for his pursuer to get inside.  There was nowhere else to run, and fighting certainly wasn’t what the two had in mind.  Or maybe it was on Jak’s mind now.  When the doorknob stuck the racer threw a strong shoulder against the barrier with a snarl of annoyance—luckily for the door it chose to cooperate.  Then Jak was stalking in, kicking the door firmly shut behind him and turning the lock with an air of great finality.  Daxter’s stomach fluttered as if it knew he was in deep trouble.  Odds were nobody would be leaving anytime soon.

     “Why… do you keep… running… away from me?!”

     “Ooh, somebody’s out’a breath!” Dax taunted.  Grinning insanely he backed away, completely ignoring the question and digging himself in even deeper.  “Getting out’a shape, Jak?  That’s what ya get fer drivin’ everywhere instead’a runnin’!”

     Jak lunged.  Daxter tried to vault the bed but was caught by one ankle.  He went down with a startled yelp, hitting the mattress face first and bouncing slightly before his friend’s much heavier weight landed square on top of him.  He tried to laugh, but found he couldn’t breathe so well in that position.

     “Jeez, big guy, get up!  Yer heavy.”

     “Not a chance.”

     Dax wriggled uncomfortably.  “Jak, seriously, get off’a me—I’m eatin’ blankets, here! I’m not gonna run off, promise.”

     Finally Jak seemed convinced enough to allow movement.  He rose up just a little for Daxter to be able to roll over underneath him and catch his breath, but overall kept the redhead safely captive.  When the squirming stopped and they both settled, they were chest to chest.  Nose to nose.  Jak still looked vaguely suspicious. 

     Dax grinned, tweaking at his friend’s goatee with one finger in that ticklish way that annoyed Jak to no end.  “Alright, Jakkie-boy, ya caught me.  Is this the part where I get held down and ravished and cry fer mercy, but secretly love every minute of it?”

     Slowly the tension seemed to drain away from Jak.  “I should rape you.  I really should.”  With an almost petulant huff he dropped his head to rest on Daxter’s chest.  “Seriously.  No more running.”

     “No more runnin’,” Daxter agreed.  No more running ever.

     With a contented sigh the redhead let his hands wander, drifting up to paw over Jak’s shoulders.  They were so much broader than when he had last been in this position.  Jak’s muscles were bigger, too.  His waist, trimmer.  Many, many more scars littered once-sleek skin.  He was still taller than Daxter.  At least that much hadn’t changed.  And those eyes, those intense blue eyes that bored into your very soul and said so much more than words ever could… those were still the same.

     “What are you doing?” Jak asked quietly as Dax began to play with his ears.

     “Just rediscovering the best part about bein’ human.”

     Strong arms tightened around him in response.  “Is this okay?”

     Daxter couldn’t help quirking a red brow.  The racer was clutching him like he would never be allowed to get away again.  “If I said it wasn’t, would ya still let go?”

     “Dax.”

     Ah.  Now he knew what this was about.  Despite all that he had been through, Jak was still kind at heart.  He felt sorry for Tess.  He felt bad for taking Daxter away from her.  The former ottsel had to smile.

     “Don’t sweat it, big guy, it’s fine.  I was yers first.  I never really stopped bein’ yers.”

     “Oh, really.”  Jak was smiling now, too.  “Is that why you had a conniption fit every time I tried to kiss a girl?”

     “I did not have a conniption!”  Daxter blushed brightly, unable to completely banish a memory of leaping to his best friend’s shoulder plate and forcefully pushing Jak and Keira’s faces apart.  Looking back on it now he could admit that it had been an entirely childish act.  But really, what else was he supposed to do?  Just sit back and watch them kiss when barely any time at all had passed since he had turned fuzzy—and simultaneously, as he had thought then, lost his all too slim chances with Jak forever?  He hadn’t spoken to the young hero for a whole day after that.  And then there was the week of quiet seething and sullen pouting after that smoochy-face episode with Ashelin he had accidentally witnessed…

     “Whatever you say, Dax.  Whatever you say.”

     Warm lips against his own pulled him out of the painful thoughts.  Oh, yeah.  Jak was still here, still with him, still wanted him.  He could let go of all the bad and concentrate on the boatload of good that had suddenly been dumped square in their laps.  Resolutely Daxter put his mind back on track as Jak tugged experimentally at one of his gloves.

     “Hey, wait a sec!”

     Before he could move to take the glove off on his own Jak had given it a decently hard pull.  The fingerless leather came free, and with it went the tiny object that had been tucked under the glove’s strap.  It hit the floor with a sharp clack.

     Jak peered curiously over the edge of the bed, scanning the shadowed floorboards.  “What was that?”

     “Somethin’ I don’t wanna lose.”  Daxter squirmed out from under his friend in an instant and all but tumbled off the mattress.  Luckily, he found what he sought almost at once.  He popped back into Jak’s view, something small clutched tight in one hand.

     “What is it?”

     With the green-blonde looking over his shoulder like that Daxter suddenly felt embarrassed.  He blushed lightly and tried to palm the small chunk of crystal stone, place it out of the way on the dresser next to the bed before Jak could get a decent glimpse.  “It’s nothin’ really.  Just somethin’ you gave me a long time ago.”

     Of course Jak wouldn’t let him off so easy.  He grabbed the redhead’s slender wrist with no trouble whatsoever and held it up to the soothing glow of the lamp.  “Something I gave you?  When?”

     Daxter stayed resolutely silent, palm open to let Jak puzzle it out for himself.  He didn’t know quite why he should feel so shy about admitting that he had kept the little treasure his best friend had given him so many years ago, but damn it, he did.  Maybe it was simply because he hadn’t known when he decided to keep it whether or not they would ever again be anything more than best friends.  It was a symbol of hope, hope for a relationship he still didn’t feel that he quite deserved.  It was enough to make anyone a little nervous, really.

     There was a long stretch of silence that Jak was finally merciful enough to break.  He sounded almost stunned.  “Dax?” 

     “Hmm.”

     “Is this that goofy rock I gave you?  That day we… when we went camping?”

     Goofy rock.  Daxter’s heart sank a little right along with his ears.  Jak hadn’t meant anything by the small gift after all.  “Yeah.  I just liked it, that’s all.”  Liked it enough to keep it in his glove for four and a half furry years, through everything they had been forced to endure, together and yet not together.  Hoping it had meant something more than the mere whim of a boy temporarily infatuated with his best friend.  He made himself shrug, a bit painfully.  “Hey, it’s no biggie.  I’ll prob’ly toss it eventually, y’know?  Just—whoa!”

     Leaning out once more, Jak grabbed him unceremoniously under the arms and hauled him back onto the bed with such little effort that he might as well still have been a knee high ottsel.  Dax gasped sharply as he was pinned to the blankets again, eyes going wide and hand closing reflexively over his treasure. 

     “Throw that rock away and I will kick your ass,” Jak growled emphatically.  Then he was kissing the redhead, almost viciously.  Daxter thought it prudent to go along for the ride.  Hey, it wasn’t like he was complaining.

     Being willingly subordinate was not something Daxter was used to.  He was cowardly, yes.  Passive, no.  This time, however… just this once… he might have wanted Jak to show him who was boss.  In some weird way it helped him believe that this wasn’t all just in his head—Jak really did want him, enough to be a little rough to get what he wanted.  So Dax didn’t struggle or try to take over the rapidly ramping makeout session.  He just whimpered and whined like a well trained crocadog with a sausage balanced on its nose.  He might not be getting a damn thing until Jak said so, but he could still beg shamelessly for it.

     “Gimme that.”

     Daxter allowed it when Jak tried, somewhat more gently, to pry the rock out of his hand.  As he had figured, the racer did nothing but lean over to drop the little sparkly on the bedside drawers.  Neither of them wanted it to get lost among the bedding, it seemed.  And it also seemed as if that was increasingly more likely to happen. 

     Jak had slowly moved from awkwardly supporting himself on his arms over Daxter to straddling the smaller redhead’s hips, though he was obviously disinclined to break their string of kisses.  Dax squirmed almost giddily when his friend’s hands moved determinedly to the straps and zippers on his jacket.  This was it.  This was really, really it. 

     No more waiting.  No more wishing.  No more dreaming.  No more awkward fumbling with furry hands behind anyone’s back.  Both girls involved knew where things stood, and had taken the information with varying degrees of acceptance.  But at least they knew.  No more barriers between him and Jak.  Whoops—not even the barrier of his jacket, now.  Jak tugged at it impatiently and Dax sat up to help get the clinging thing off.  He loved his new clothes, but they did have their place.

     “Man, it has been entirely too long,” Dax purred.  He reached up to return the favor and began to divest the King of Straps and Buckles himself of his racing jacket.  “And you used ta tell me I wore complicated clothes.”

     “You did.”  End of discussion.  Free of his own jacket, Jak shrugged it off and it disappeared somewhere over the end of the bed.  Then he put Daxter firmly back on his back once more with purposeful hands on thin shoulders.  Jak always had been the assertive one in their odd little relationship.

     Memories chased themselves thick and fast through Daxter’s head as the green-blonde began stripping them down in earnest.  The first time they had seen each other naked and aroused.  The first time they had touched each other. Their first real kiss.  It had all seemed so idyllic back then.  No worries.  No real cares.  Nothing but each other and an endless game of feeling good together.  They could never go back to that, to how playful it had once been, but they could sure as hell come close.

     “Hey.”  Jak was leaning forward to kiss gently at his jaw.  “Don’t cry.”

     “I am not cryin’!”  He blinked frantically to get rid of the annoying moisture.  This was no time to get all choked up.  Everything was alright now, and about to get so much better. 

     Daxter distracted himself by running his fingers along Jak’s bare sides and back, making the green-blonde shiver.  Mmm.  That was nice.  It was so much easier to make your partner feel good when you weren’t a third their height and a tenth their weight.  Jak retaliated by kissing and nipping his way down a smooth neck.  He trailed lower, across shoulders that were still miraculously freckle-spotted after years of being hidden by fur, down a rapidly rising and falling chest, down still further onto a subtly muscled stomach.   

     Dax choked back something between a giggle and a gasp and did his best not to squirm away from the open-mouthed kisses Jak was leaving across his abs.  Damn it, it wasn’t fair!  True to dominant form, the big guy was using the most gentle application of teeth against tender skin as he licked and sucked.  It was enough to make Dax melt, if he wasn’t afraid of the consequences melting would have on his attainment of release that night.  By the time a teasing tongue found its way to his navel he was ready to sell his soul, if need be, to keep that fantastic stuff coming.

     “What,” he managed to pant between gasps, “can I do ta get some’a that a-maze-ing mouth action a little farther south?” 

     “All you have to do is ask.”

     Almost before Daxter could register shock that Jak would acquiesce so readily there were capable fingers unbuttoning his pants.  What the heck was this?  Not that he was complaining, far from it, but as far as he was concerned Jak was an infamous bedroom tease.  He had been known on more than one occasion to keep Dax on edge with wanting until infuriated snarls gave way to frustrated tears.  That Jak would give in almost immediately this time was surprising, to say the least.  Unless… he had a different goal in mind for the night.

     Once that thought entered his mind, Jak couldn’t get his pants off fast enough.  Dax twisted and kicked until his friend could tug his boots off and pull the annoying pants completely over his feet with no problem.

     “Somebody’s eager,” Jak laughed softly.

     “You started it.”

     “Point taken.”

     Then his underwear was down and off—Precursors, how he had missed honest to goodness underwear, but these were special circumstances!—and almost before Jak had thrown them aside Daxter was curling up to grab the green-blonde’s shoulders with an ecstatic hiss of pleasure. 

     Jak was good at a lot of things.  Racing.  Shooting.  Kicking lurker and metal head ass.  Staying upright on a malfunctioning jet board at top speed with a terrified ottsel obstructing half his face and all of his vision.  Lots of people had seen those skills in action.  Giving fantastic head was also one of those things Jak excelled at.  However, Daxter was pretty sure no one else knew his friend possessed that particular talent.  There were perks to being someone’s more than willing experiment-ee.

     Gasping and writhing as much as he was able in a strong hold was unavoidable.  Between long, purposeful sucks Jak’s tongue flicked and stroked, still knowing by rote just what would make the redhead convulse with pleasure. 

     “Jak… hey, slow down!” he was finally forced to whimper.  It was much too fast.  There was no hurry.  They could afford to draw it out a bit, right? 

     Apparently wrong.  The racer growled in the negative, if anything doubling his efforts.  Well.  Jak was obviously the one calling the shots tonight.  Who was Daxter to argue?  He let his legs sprawl open messily and relinquished the last of what little control he’d had.  Hands clenched fitfully in fistfuls of golden green as Dax twitched and panted, rocketing toward his release as fast as Jak cared to direct him.  Hell, he’d been hard for twenty minutes.  It didn’t take much. 

     “Jaaaak…”  The pitiful call when he came an embarrassingly short time later was nothing so much as a drawn out whine.  Through it all he clung to Jak as best he could, somehow harboring the ridiculous fear that he would suddenly wake up—he would uncross his eyes, loosen taunt muscles, wipe the blissful drool off the corner of his mouth and abruptly find himself all alone.  And furry, Precursors forbid. 

      “It’s okay.  I’m right here.”

     And indeed Jak was right there, smack between his legs where he had been since the redhead’s vision had whited out moments before.  He watched Daxter intently as he came down from his momentary high, hands drifting up and down Dax’s thighs in a way that was half soothing massage and half possessive petting.  Again with that pesky urge to purr and melt, but he had a hunch they weren’t anything close to finished.

     “Thanks, big guy.  Gonna let me return the favor?”

     The hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Jak’s mouth as he pushed himself up from the bed once more, making Daxter’s lazy hand slip from his cheek as he shook his head.  “Some other time.”

     “Ooh.  Other plans?” 

     Jak smirked.  It was a loving smirk.  He reached for the top drawer of the dresser, leaning over Daxter as he did so.  “I think you’ve got an idea.”

     Dax rolled a little and craned his neck to watch the proceedings upside down.  He had an idea, alright.  It was confirmed beyond a doubt when what was fished from the depths of the drawer turned out to be a small bottle, held tight in Jak’s hand.  The big guy could sure plan ahead.  They had come a long way from the naïve kids who hadn’t once known that the activity they were about to begin was even physically possible.  Daxter’s hands got away from him, shot out eagerly to help, fumbled with Jak’s and nearly cracked the hinged plastic cap right off the bottle. 

     Jak chuckled.  “Be patient, Dax.”  The green-blonde’s own hand was shaking.

     “Yeah, suuure.”

     “You know this is gonna hurt some, right?”

     “Pssh.”  Of course he knew that.  He would be an idiot if he didn’t.  But this last step of cementing closeness with Jak was so totally worth a little bit of pain—it wouldn’t hurt that much or last for long, and it would feel good, too.  “Move it or lose it, Jakkie-boy.  We’re burnin’ nighttime, here.”

     From there it was the work of a moment to roll over and situate himself semi-comfortably on his stomach.  He had done a little research himself, and this had seemed like the position most likely to help make sure that two first-timers didn’t mess up too badly.  It would be nice if he could still perform normal activities like sitting and walking the next day. 

     “You make sure you warm that junk up before ya—aaaaagh!”

     Jak’s voice behind him radiated sheepishness.  “Sorry.”

     “S’okay.  Payback’s a bitch.”  Half tease, half threat.  If Jak was going to be screwing around back there—pun intended—out of his line of sight, he was going to have to trust the big guy implicitly.  And he did.  But any minor-league blunders were sure as heck going to be remembered and smugly used to his advantage at a later date.

     “If you don’t want your ass smacked, clam it.”

     “If ya don’t want my comments, then don’t drip cold stuff on it.”

     A big hand was his answer; not applied with force to the area in question but buried affectionately in the hair at the back of his neck.  Daxter went almost completely limp as his neck and shoulders were kneaded soothingly.  Some ottsel-ish habits were harder to break than others.

     The fingers came next, slowly and incredibly gently following the unintentionally cold lube.  The initial pressing in was honestly a lot easier than Dax had imagined.  Maybe because Jak’s hands had been three times the size of his own only a week before, making the mere contemplation of this act a little frightening, he had been an eensy bit worried.  But it wasn’t bad at all now that it was actually happening.  Compared to some pain he had felt in his lifetime this minor sting and discomfort was next to nothing.

     “Is this alright?”

     Well, duh.  Couldn’t Jak see him slack-jawed with sensation?  Oh, wait… he couldn’t.  “It’s fine, pal.  Keep it up.”

     Much to his relief, Jak did keep it up.  Maybe the racer was just unable to stop, after waiting for so long and making sure Dax himself had already gotten one treat out of the deal.  Daxter didn’t necessarily mind.  Capable fingers pushed slowly in, wriggled a bit, and pulled back.  In, wiggle, back.  In, stretch a little more, back. 

     “Ja-aaak…”  He could feel the whine growing right along with his reawakened arousal as he began to thrust back to meet the green-blonde’s hand.  His own hands clenched in the soft cloth case of the pillow he had been resting his upper body on as his ears slowly drifted back.  How long could the big guy possibly keep this up?  His answer was, apparently, not long. 

     Jak was leaning over him in a second, body completely covering the redhead’s still smaller one.  Daxter could feel his friend’s warmth seeping into him in the cool room as Jak tucked his chin over one freckled shoulder and blew teasingly in his ear.  Ah, yeah.  This was how it was meant to be.  Perfection, even if his imagination did have to fill in twinkling stars and gently crashing surf.

     A rough palm skated down his spine to rest in the small of his back, but Dax didn’t feel pinned.  Far from it.  He suddenly felt safer, happier than he had in… forever, it seemed like.  He stretched out luxuriously under the caress but took care not to shift away, especially when he felt, with a surge of triumph, Jak finally press his very obvious erection fully against him.  It was a perfect fit, matching up nicely as Jak rocked and it slid teasingly along the cleft it had settled into.  The hiss of want that unintentionally escaped the racer made Daxter almost giddy.  He tipped his head back to murmur in Jak’s ear.

     “Gimme yer best shot, hero.”

     Sometimes being cocky had its merits.  And sometimes it just earned a big, hot, unyielding object pressing insistently inside you.  Daxter gasped sharply, back and shoulders going tense as he tried not to immediately pull away.  Jak’s hands seemed to have reflexively locked around his upper arms, though, holding him in place as the racer inched forward.

     Dax couldn’t help it.  He whimpered, muffled against the pillow.

     “You okay?  Want me to stop?” came in ragged breaths against his ear.

     Hell yes! he wanted to yelp.  Instead he just shook his head frantically in the negative.  If they stopped now, who knew if Jak would be up to trying again?  What if the big guy thought he couldn’t handle it and he was bad at real sex but Jak was tired of childish foreplay and decided to find somebody else who could actually let him screw them?!  Thankfully, he was pulled from his mini mental panic attack by Jak kissing and biting harder than usual at the back of his neck and shoulders.  A distraction.

     “Relax, relax.  I’m sorry.  It’ll feel better in a minute.”

     Shit.  He tried to get a hold of himself and do what Jak said, but it was hard.  Behind the part that hurt was one of the strangest sensations he had ever felt, and he didn’t know whether or not to enjoy it.  Something said yes to that; enjoy it, go with it, move toward it.  It was still uncomfortable enough that he stayed still, though, just trying to breathe and letting Jak do his thing.  He would catch up in a second.

     Jak was almost where he needed to be.  Stretch.  Burn.  Oww, oww oww OWW aaand—worth it, as Jak’s rapturous groan filled his ears and his own aching cock brushed the blankets under them.  So worth it.  Daxter’s ears flicked as he listened to the sound of his own panting, Jak’s harsh breaths as the racer paused a moment for both their sakes. The redhead had time to notice that they were sweaty and his back was sticking slightly to Jak’s chest.  The sheets were all scrunched up in his fists where he had been pulling unconsciously at them. 

     “Okay?”  Jak’s chin was still over his shoulder, hands still soothingly rubbing his arms.

     “Okay.  Fer real.”

     Taking that for the sign it was meant to be, the racer began to move.  Very, very carefully and slowly.  Daxter silently commended his willpower, wincing only a little himself at the movement.  This wasn’t so bad.  He was able to relax a little, felt the ease of tension make things that much easier.  And over it all, the thought that this was it, they were actually doing this, made the moment so much better.  He hummed approvingly before he could stop himself, a sound of general contentment his friend was more than familiar with.

     Jak chuckled behind him, slightly strained.  “You’re amazing, Dax.  I think I owe you one.”

     “No ya don’t.”  He squirmed slightly, flushing redder at the high, feathery tone of his own voice.  “I like it, too.  Don’t owe me nothin’.”

     Well, maybe he would let Jak pamper him for a few days.  Maybe make him a sandwich.  But right then, all the redhead really wanted was being willingly given as Jak began to move faster, more smoothly.  The initial pain he had felt was almost entirely gone.  And even if it didn’t feel remarkably good yet, that Jak was enjoying it rendered his own mediocre pleasure almost redundant.  That is, until the smallest shift on his part made Jak touch that spot inside him he had all but forgotten about looking for while trying to adjust.

     “O-oh!”

     Jak laughed at the exclamation and the shove backwards that came right on its heels.  “More?”

     “What do you think, wise ass?”

     What Jak thought was perfectly clear when he took Daxter by the hips and flipped him onto his back.  The redhead gasped, eyes flying open wide at the abrupt pulling away, but Jak was pressing back inside in an instant—and this time Dax could see the look on his face when he did it.  It was honestly the hottest thing he had ever seen, and he moaned despite the twinge of ouch the abrupt re-entry caused. 

     “Oh, m-man, Jak.  Yer so… yer just…  I love you.”

     The dazzling grin he got in return, the likes of which hadn’t been seen on Jak’s face in literally years, rendered further speech unnecessary, and Daxter willingly accepted the heated kiss his friend leaned down to give.  Even if it did force him to scrunch up almost double into an extremely undignified position… a position that actually—ohholyfuck!—hit that spot that had begun to feel good dead on.

     “Mmph!  Mmm!”

     An almost violent spasm as he tried to force Jak closer convinced the racer to resume thrusting.  Groping for his leg, Jak managed to hoist it over his shoulder.  Had it not been impossible to think clearly just then Daxter might have worried.  About how flexible was he actually, wasn’t this kind of an advanced position, and how sore would he be the next morning because of it?  But none of that mattered right then because this was intense with a capital “I” and he could barely breathe, but who needed air with Jak’s hand suddenly wrapping around his cock just the way he needed it?

     Daxter almost missed it when Jak came, too focused on forcing oxygen to his lungs and himself into Jak’s hand.  However, someone trying not to scream his name lest the entire palace wing be jarred awake was hard to ignore. 

     “S’right, big guy,” Dax hissed, inexplicably smug as Jak buried his burning face against his neck.  “Just like that.  Oooh, yeah.”  His hands tightened on the green-blonde’s shoulders as Jak’s stroking sped up.  Further words were strung out into unintelligible whines and cries as he finally arched as well as he was able in his somewhat crunched pose and released into Jak’s hand.

     For a moment he could have sworn he saw bright lights against the blackness behind his eyelids.  Then, a whole lot of nothing, dark and silence.  And then, an indiscernible amount of time later, someone was petting his face and cooing softly in his ear.  Daxter cracked one eye open very slowly and experimentally to see Jak’s slightly worried face.

     “Pretty colors…” he managed weakly.

     “Huh?”

     Dax grinned crookedly.  “Never mind.” 

     It seemed like a great time for another kiss.

 

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

 

     “Jak?”

     “Hmm.”

     “Will you make me a sandwich?”

     “Sure.  First thing tomorrow.”

     With a snort, Daxter tried to elbow the racer in the ribs.  It was hard, though, as they were both reclining in the tub of their suite’s bathroom and he was leaning back into Jak’s embrace.  It was beyond relaxing, especially with Jak fondly rubbing his shoulders from time to time.

     “Maybe I’m busy tomorrow.  Ever think of that, hot shot?”

     “I’ll just have to take you away from whatever you’re doing and find something better.”

     “Like dinner, where I can actually now enter a restaurant without a load of smack from the staff about ‘no animals allowed’ rules?  And a trip to the shooting range after that to play with my new toys?”

     Jak chuckled.  Dax felt it vibrate through Jak’s chest and into his back, and smiled.  “Sure.  We can do that.  I’m a little worried about the gun range, though.”

     “Why’s that?”

     “Because you’re clumsy as hell, but you were always deadly with a slingshot.  And you could shoot my guns pretty well when they were almost as big as your own furry ass.  So you’ll either be good enough right off the bat to beat my score into the ground, or you’ll accidentally shoot me in the foot.”

     Very slowly the redhead turned to look back and up, right into Jak’s grinning face.  “I think someone needs to remember who just let who stick what in their you-know-where, hmm?”

     The bear hug Jak attacked him with a moment later was one he never wanted to walk away from.  As they laughed and joked, kissed and touched, lounged and grew sleepy, and the bath water slowly faded from invigorating hot to cozy lukewarm around them, Daxter was finally sure that he would never have to. 

 

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

 

The end.

 

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(2^nd)Author’s Note:  The last chapter/installment of anything always makes me a bit melancholy.  *dabs at eyes*  Ah, well.  Such is life.  I hope everyone enjoyed it!