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Safety	By : sillyneko345 Category: +G through L > Jak & Daxter Views: 6919 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the game this work is based on (Jak & Daxter) and receive no compensation for writing it.

Chapter List
- 1-Prologue
- 2-Ch. 1
- 3-Ch. 2
- 4-Ch. 3
- 5-Ch. 4
- 6-Ch. 5
- 7-Ch. 6
- 8-Ch. 7
- 9-Ch. 8
- 10-Ch. 9
- 2
- 3
- 4
GMB: Ottsel Jak is cutest Jak, and yes, he still has his dark and light eco powers. He just has to figure that out!
Kageko: Thanks for giving it a read! I’m glad it served as a good fandom intro. Keep reading other Jak stuff by other people though, there are definitely better writers than me out there.
Skunktail: Oh, don’t worry, sexual fluff shall abound in more ways than one. I’m glad you’re enjoying the character development! They’re such awesome characters, we had to make the effort to get them just right. I dabble in original works, but it’s just a hobby, like my fanfiction – but thanks for saying so!
DC: … pretty much, yeah. Are we that predictable? Lol
Kate: Jak ottsel cuteness for the win! Of course he still has his green-blonde mop, quintessential for maximum Jak-ness.
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Tess paced in front of her drawing board, adding little flourishes to the design. Adjusting the lamp, she nibbled at the dull end of an engineer pencil. A grenade launcher was always a classic touch, but it could throw off the balance. Designing guns that didn't launch ottsels backward had proved quite an engineering challenge.
Out the window, city sounds echoed across the darkened landing pads. Daxter snored in a corner, drooling a little as he sprawled on a cushion stolen from the lounge sofas. He liked to come in and "watch her work," though he seemed more interested in her tail than her technical drawings.
Maybe if she made it top-loading, the ammo's weight would be far enough back—
The blonde ottsel looked up from her schematics, ears perked. Did someone just knock?
The faint rapping at the front door continued.
She padded from her workroom to the bar and climbed the rungs installed on the door to peer through the peephole, only to see… no one. A prank, maybe? Or someone giving up after they realized the bar was closed?
Another knock, just as faint, just as insistent, reverberated through the door.
She hopped down and opened it a crack.
On the step stood a bedraggled ottsel. Harsh streetlights revealed singed green-blonde hair, a trailing red scarf, and a too-big satchel that looked as if it had been dragged through half the city. If they hadn't been in the desert, a dramatic rain probably would have started drenching him. He looked up and squeaked in a gravelly voice. "Tess, I..."
Tess blinked. She'd know that rough voice anywhere. "Jak?"
Jak squinted as she opened the door fully and let light from inside fall across her transformed friend. He coughed, voice hoarse. "Oh, good. I... I was afraid you wouldn't recognize me." One of his ears flopped down in front of his face and he batted it away with a snarl of exasperation. Tess noticed the fur around his eyes, as soot-stained and matted as the rest of him, looked damp as well. "I was down in these… these caves and I found some old Precursor stuff and—" His voice cracked and he cleared his throat, looking down at his feet. "I, um, didn't know where to—I mean, after I got..." He trailed off, looking helpless and sad and very, very lost.
She dragged him in from the doorway and into a hug. "Shh, honey. Of course you came here."
His arms wrapped back around her and squeezed hard, clearly glad for the comfort even if he hadn't dared ask for it. "I didn't mean to wake you," he got out at last.
With a final squeeze, she released him. "Don't be silly, Jak. You need us and we're here for you." She dashed back out to the stoop and grabbed his satchel, dragging it and the last foot or so of filthy red scarf inside so she could close the door. That done, she pulled Jak back into her arms, ignoring him as he protested his filthiness. "Daxter. Daxter! You should come here, honey."
With a groan from the other room, her boyfriend stumbled in, unzipping his pants. "Ya wanna do it on the pool table again, babe? We'll try not to get your tail stuck down the pocket this time—" Surprise froze him stock-still as he laid eyes on the new ottsel.
Jak adjusted his oversized scarf and looked anywhere but at his friend.
Daxter opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again, almost cracked a joke… then prudently shut up and joined the hug.
As they hauled him to sit between them on the sofa Jak tried a couple times to explain, but kept trailing off, as if momentarily forgetting mid-sentence that he now had the power of speech.
Tess shushed him as she patted his knee. "First rule of being an ottsel: cuddles solve everything."
- // - // - // - // -
Jak awoke in a tangle of warm ottsel. Not for the first time—Dax had always been happy to curl up next to him and had insisted to Tess it was just what ottsels did. She'd joined within a month of her transformation. Something seemed odd about this cuddle, though. Usually the fuzz didn't extend so far along his body.
Oh, right. Some of this fuzz was his.
His eyes shot open.
Daxter blinked sleepily at him, obviously roused by Jak’s startled twitch to wakefulness. “G’mornin’, sunshine.” On Daxter’s other side, Tess uncurled with a petite yawn.
Jak cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh. Good morning.”
The other ottsel stretched, wriggled leisurely, and settled again. "Well, might as well cut to the chasse. Ya wanna explain what happened?"
Jak had given them only the barest description of last night’s events. With a deep breath, he forced himself to explain. "I was digging around at the new Precursor site the eco miners accidentally opened up and found that." He pointed at the metal rod poking from his satchel on the floor. "Next thing I know, I'm fuzzy and two feet tall."
Tess reached over Daxter and clapped a paw on his shoulder. "Well, you've come to the right support group."
"Getting here wasn't easy. This… body can't reach the pedals and the steering wheel of a dune buggy at the same time. So I jammed some priceless artifacts against the accelerator to keep it down." He shrugged. "It worked a little too well. I crashed into the gate and got thrown out the front."
Daxter grimaced. "Ouch."
Jak dismissed the concern with a shrug. "It's okay, I landed in a trash can."
The pair of ottsels lifted their hands from his pelt and exchanged a wince.
"I climbed out, grabbed the artifacts, and got here as fast as I could. I figured between the three of us, we could come up with a plan." He stroked his fuzzier-than-normal chin. "We should probably show Keira that relic."
Tess gave him a charitable smile. "Before we do anything, you should probably take a bath."
With a nod, Jak hopped off the bed. His new body seemed pretty responsive, considering he'd only had it a few hours. He padded upstairs to the bathroom and unwound himself from his scarf.
After scrambling at the edge of the tub, he managed to turn the faucet on without falling in. He slipped into the steaming water, grabbed some shampoo, and tried to work it into his pelt, only to have most of it foam to bubbles in the filling tub. With a sigh, he sank and contemplated his situation. Things could be worse. At least he had a plan, friends, and moment's peace.
The door burst open, booted by Daxter, who traipsed in with barely a "Hey, Jak."
"Dax!" Jak’s hands swept through the bubbles to cover his privates. "I'm in the bath, man!"
The scrawny ottsel bounced up a step ladder, onto the sink, and looked back through the mirror. "Yeah, and you're really that much more naked than you were with us on the couch all night." He blasted some toothpaste onto a brush and put it to enthusiastic use. "Besides, it's not like we didn't go skinny-dippin' as kids. An’ we took showers together all the time! Well, when you were human. Before I moved in with Tessie-kins."
The green-blonde ottsel swallowed his objections and scrambled for a topic to distract from his nudity. It was a lot more unnerving when the person seeing him undressed was suddenly the same size he was. "How do you even get this fur clean? The shampoo just slides right off."
Daxter gargled with gusto, spat, then turned to his pal. "You’ve got a waterproof undercoat now, Jak-o. Handy in cold water, not so much for bath time." He hopped from the sink to the wall of the tub. "Don’t worry, though—there's a trick to it."
Jak froze as his fellow ottsel reached down and scrubbed claws into his back fur. Hot water seeped to his skin in an instant, making him stiffen further. "H-hey!" His weak wave did nothing to discourage the grooming. "C'mon, Dax..."
"Relax, big guy." He chuckled, leaning in further. "You've been my personal stage for years. Why would we get all weird now?"
It felt… nice. A little too nice, judging by the feel of hot water against his unsheathing erection. He never thought he would thank the Precursors for bubble baths. A fierce blush burned in his drooped ears. "T-thanks." He wriggled away from his friend's paws. "I think I've got it from here."
With an amused chuckle, the shorter ottsel spread his fingers. "If ya say so. I've always had a vested interest in having you not stink, so I figured I'd give ya a head start." A hop bounced him off the side of the tub. He shook a fine spray of water from his paws, then swept one down his slinky body. "The Precursors really should’a left a how-to manual for all this."
Willing his erection back into its sheath, Jak peered over the side of the tub. "Yeah… I admit I have a couple questions."
"Anytime ya wanna ask, Jak-o." Daxter snapped a finger at him with a wink. "Basically got my doctorate in ottselology at this point."
- // - // - // - // -
Daxter padded into the hallway a moment later, straight into the path of his girlfriend's smirk.
Tess crossed her arms under her breasts. "You're lucky I'm not the jealous type."
"Hey!" He propped tiny fists on curvy hips. "What's that supposed to mean?"
She eeled over and slipped an arm around him. "You were pretty eager to help."
"I couldn't just leave him hangin'. It took me forever to figure out how to get clean after I first got changed." He waggled his eyebrows at her. "I seem to recall showing a lovely lady ottsel the same tricks."
She poked him in the ribs and got a yelp out of him. "And I bet you also remember where it wound up leading, you big hornball. The poor guy's had half a day to get used to that body and you go pressing all his buttons with your magic bath fingers!"
"It ain't like that, babe!" Daxter's smile almost rang trustworthy, though the subtle bulge in his bathrobe gave away the lie. "Besides, Jak and I are close. He probably didn't give it a second thought."
- // - // - // - // -
Jak sank in the bubble bath, overwhelmed. Soon, though, he found himself eye-level with the erection jutting from its sheath. It throbbed, red and sleek against the suds, eager for attention. Out of reflex, his hand drifted down to wrap around it.
Why did Dax have to mention them skinny-dipping? It was bad enough to have the memory bouncing around his brain, but now he couldn't stop thinking about Daxter thinking about him naked.
His paw pads brushed rough against his sensitive member. He squirmed, trying out different grips. Nothing felt right, though the silky caress of wet ottsel fur did dredge up a few more of his late-night fantasies.
Before life could get any weirder he crawled out of the tub, cursed the door for lacking a lock, and climbed onto the sink. Ignoring his waggling member and wiggly body, he focused on just how to brush his teeth with a toothbrush that suddenly felt gigantic in his mouth.
A tap at the door almost knocked him from the sink. He wobbled with a startled squeak, gripping the hand towel ring for support.
A female voice bubbled from the other side. "Jak?"
"Umm..." He glanced at the door, but it stayed shut. Some people had more decorum than Daxter. "Yes?"
"It's Tess. Sounds like you're out of the tub." She hesitated a moment. "Right?"
Fur still dripping, Jak wrapped the small towel around his waist and picked his way down to the step stool. His foot fur felt like wet socks as he padded to the door. After a quick peek down to make sure he wasn't peeking out, he turned the knob and peered out.
Tess stood, studying the wallpaper. Her paw held out a length of purple linen.
He tilted his head to study it, then jumped a little as soaked ears flipped up to scatter droplets on his nose. "A cloth napkin?"
"That." She nodded, eyes averted in the picture of ottsel innocence. "And also a toga."
"Thanks." Jak closed the door, but got the impression she had checked out his butt as she turned to leave.
- // - // - // - // -
An hour later, the trio of ottsels waddled through downtown Haven City.
Daxter led the pack as they wove between people's legs. "First thing you gotta learn about being an ottsel: ya see a lotta chins. You can learn a lot about people from their chins."
Jak stared at the passing throngs of citizens who gave them little more than a passing glance. "How is nobody staring at us?"
"Now yer gettin' paranoid, buddy-boy." The ottsel in pants turned to walk backwards. "Nobody ever stares at ottsels."
"I did." Tess smiled.
"You're special, angel-cheeks." He caressed the ruff of her cheek. "Everybody else thinks we're muses or wild animals."
“Well, sometimes you are...” She giggled. “But they’d have no way of knowing that.”
They arrived at Keira's workshop without undue mishap. The garage stood open, letting the breeze sweep through the oil- and eco-stained bay. Somewhere in the back, the occasional clank of metal on concrete and the steady clatter of a ratchet echoed.
Closing his eyes with a sigh, Jak braced himself for the coming conversation. "Maybe it would be better if I went in alone."
"Ya sure?" Dax slipped a paw onto his shoulder.
Before Jak could reply, Tess drew her lover back with a tilt of her head. She turned to the green-tinged ottsel. "We'll be right out here."
Gathering his courage, Jak padded inside. Behind a half-disassembled zoomer, he found Keira. Even in this time, hundreds of years from when they grew up, he could still see in her his old friend, as focused and grease-smudged as ever. Trying to keep his voice from cracking, he leaned against the front of the craft. “Hey, Keira...”
"What is it, Daxt—" Shock struck her like yellow eco, then melted away. "Okay, it's a wig or something. That's not funny."
The green-blonde ottsel shrugged. "Tell me about it."
"Jak? Seriously?" Her jaw dropped. Her ratchet hit the floor. "Oh, for the love of—! This is the last thing I need."
He crossed his arms. "Yeah, I really sympathize."
She leaned in and poked one of his ears. "How did this even happen?"
Reaching into his pack, he produced the rod of coppery Precursor metal and hopped up on his tip-toes to set it on her workbench.
Her eyes widened further. "A Precursor staff?"
"Found it in the old Precursor city." He tried in vain to adjust the satchel so the bottom didn’t drag through the dirt. "Some surveyors uncovered a new complex."
"How’d you get it to zap you?" She reached to touch the device, face clearly displaying the unbridled mechanical curiosity she had always been known for.
The ottsel glanced up at her. "I think I hit some kind of hidden button."
Her hand froze a hair's breadth from its surface. "And you've just been handling it?" she asked incredulously.
"What's it gonna do? Turn me into more of an ottsel?"
"Okay…” Stepping back, Keira stroked her chin, leaving a small streak of oil. “I think I'll do a little research first."
“How long will that take?”
“I have no idea. But Daxter’s survived for years as an ottsel, so you should be fine.” She looked him over with a sigh. “You really should be more careful, Jak.”
At a defiant three feet of fluff, he looked up at her. "You act like it's my fault I'm an ottsel."
"It is your fault, Jak. Everyone else is just happy things aren't exploding anymore, but you had to find a wumpbee nest to poke." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Until this morning, my biggest worry was the spike in eco prices. Now I have to drop my current projects to help you."
Clearing his throat, he scraped a toe claw along the floor and rubbed the fur of his upper arm nervously. "So, does this, um..." He dropped his gaze to his hand and felt like a coward. "Does this change anything? With us?"
"Us?" Keira brushed a lock of hair from her face, nonplussed. She folded her arms down at him, hips cocked. "Jak, there's never really been an 'us.' There certainly won't be until we fix you.” As she retrieved her ratchet from the cold floor, her eyes swept over his diminished body with what could have been distain. “I don't date animals, remember? Frankly, I’m not sure who could."
Jak clenched his teeth at a spike of anger and mentally kicked himself for expecting life to give him any sort of break. “I’m best friends with a couple of those ‘animals,’ you know.”
“You know what I mean.” She ratcheted a bolt onto some armor plating. “Daxter may flirt with everything that moves, but he’s basically a big orange rat. That hasn’t changed any.”
"Sorry if repeatedly saving the world has some risks!" He hitched up his napkin toga and stomped for the door.
“What? What’d I say?” Keira’s voice echoed through the garage and the growing space between them. "Where are you going?"
"Back to the zoo. Let me know if you find anything." He threw his scarf and an icy glance over his shoulder. "If you can spare the time."
- // - // - // - // -
Jak didn't have much to say on the walk home. Wisely, the other two agreed in silence not to press for details. As soon as they made it back to the Naughty Ottsel he retired to his sofa to be alone, leaving Dax and Tess in the bar with their thoughts.
The moment the door slammed upstairs, Tess turned to her lover. “He’s staying with us.”
“Well, yeah.” Atop the bar, Daxter concocted a drink for himself. He started with malt whiskey and added grape soda. He glugged it down, then lost all control of his face.
Rolling her eyes, Tess swizzled some Leberkleister into peach gin, splashed in cranberry, and handed it up to him.
His gloved hands grasped for it, then dumped half of it into his mouth. After some frantic gargles, he spat into the sink and leaned against the tap. With a lingering wince and a thankful wink, he swirled the second half of his drink.
“I just feel sorry for him.” Climbing up from behind the bar, she shook her head. "Keira never could see past the end of her own wrench."
"I dunno why she even got with the guy if she'd not willing to invest." Daxter finished his drink with a frown.
Tess’s lips gave a pondering pout. "Well, he is amazingly good looking… and saves the planet all the time."
"Hey! I save the planet too. And I've been said to have a certain sleek styling." He slid a paw down his supple form.
"You do, sweetheart, but he has that little beard you just wanna scratch like a kitten's chin." She scritched under his chin for emphasis.
"Really?" Daxter crossed his arms and cocked his hips. "The tiny beard is what does it for you?"
"Second rule of being an ottsel, dear; when all you see are chins, you start developing preferences." She bounced and clutched her paws into tiny fists. "Besides, have you seen it since he got changed? It's the cutest thing ever! Is it too soon to say that? ‘Cause I just wanna scritch it."
- // - // - // - // -
Night crept over the city walls. Jak crouched on the scarred, scuffed wood of Naughty Ottsel’s bar. His reflection in a half-empty shot of whiskey stared back at him: furry cheeks, ever-present goggles now comically large, worn red scarf big enough to use as a cloak. His tail curled around big back paws, forgotten until the next time he turned and tripped over it, or slammed it in a door, or sat on it.
What use was a cast-off hero, barely three feet tall from five and a half? He could barely pick up the smallest of his guns anymore, let alone shoot it without flopping backward. He couldn't pilot a zoomer worth a damn or even reach the pedals of the Sand Shark. He could barely reach the handle on the refrigerator door.
Keira’s shocked, dismayed face wouldn’t leave his head. He hadn't seen or heard from her since their less-than-friendly conversation that morning.
Strangely, while it still hurt, her rejection hadn't surprised him like it should have.
What did upset him was the irony.
As teenagers, he'd had a huge crush on the redheaded human boy Daxter had been. After Dax got turned into an ottsel, though, they had spent every waking moment trying to get him changed back. Jak had never been good with words, so he had decided not to say anything that might make the situation worse. Plus, what would that relationship have even looked like? People joked about their close friendship, but ottsel bodies weren't exactly designed for sex with humans. He could get hurt.
And over time, it had gotten easier not to bring it up. He had dismissed it as infatuation. They and Keira had been the only teenagers in their whole village, after all.
Now, years later, he was the right size, the right species, and Daxter seemed pretty happy with his new body. Jak couldn't say the same, not yet anyway, but a much bigger problem had arisen: Daxter already had someone else. Someone sweet, kind, witty, talented. Beautiful. Female. The guy finally had life going his way—he didn't need his best friend making things weird by confessing his love.
Jak sighed. No use dwelling on what was not and could not be. He leaned forward and lapped delicately at the amber liquid in the shot glass, sensitive nose twitching at the sharp smell. He was too numb to bother with picking up the glass when it seemed large enough to be a regular sized tumbler in his small hand. Lost in thought and whiskey, he didn’t hear the soft tap of padded paws approaching.
"I gotta tell ya, pal." A normally obnoxious voice caught his ear, now soft and almost teasing. "I know today’s been a doozy for ya, but just hear me out. Ya look good fuzzy. An' I'm not just sayin' that, either."
Jak's head jerked up, orange ears flying back as he quickly straightened up.
Wiry but surprisingly strong arms wrapped around him. Jak found himself drawn against a warm chest, Daxter's smiling face buried in his neck.
"Dax…?"
"Shh, big guy." The other ottsel chuckled and patted his flank. "Lemme enjoy the fact that yer not towerin’ over me."
His ears fell further. Another miserable truth. "We're the same size now. I… I can't protect you anymore."
"Nah." Orange fur tickled Jak's nose as he was squeezed tight. Daxter might have even been taller than he was now, by a good few centimeters. "Now I get to protect you for a change. And this time, I got some help."
Then something even more startling; smaller, more delicate arms slipped around him from behind. Pale yellow hair pressed and mingled with his own darker gold and green as Jak found himself tucked between two warm bodies.
Tess purred, rubbing a powder-puff cheek between the small hero's tense shoulder blades. "You'll stay with us, won't you, Jak?" She made eye contact with her boyfriend, then looked back to the green-blonde ottsel. "We've talked about it, and we totally insist."
“Yeah.” Dax bopped his best friend on the arm. “About time you moved in for real, instead of crashing a Jak-shaped hole on the couch.”
"Here at the Naughty Ottsel?" He blinked and considered the idea. "Sure. That would actually be nice." He had already usurped their upstairs sofa as his own several nights a week. What was the harm in taking them up on it full time, at least until he was able to find some solution to this newest catastrophe?
With his agreement secured, the couple dragged him out of his thoughts and upstairs; not to his sofa, as he had been expecting, but to the bedroom that had belonged to Tess and now belonged to them both. Behind their bedroom door, he found a jungle of fabric—Tess's sheets, the good towels, and a scattering of those tiny accent pillows. Together, it formed a sort of nest atop the bed.
Jak chuckled. "I see you haven’t lost your pillow fort skills over the years."
“What can I say? It’s a gift.” Daxter sprung up onto the mattress. “One nobody can make fun of, since I’m not a human anymore.”
Tess made her ‘isn’t he adorable?’ face and climbed up too. Together, they pulled Jak onto the bed.
They slipped under the sheet-wall and the hard city lights shifted to a soft glow through the fabric. He noticed an auxiliary nest between the bed and the corner, out of sight of the door. Perhaps best not to inquire about what went on there. Might spoil the moment.
He settled into the basin of pillows, a bowl of noodley ottsels. Curled up along the warm bodies of his friends under a makeshift canopy, he decided life as an ottsel might have its merits.
- // - // - // - // -
To be continued.
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Check out cool chapter art by Slate! : https://www.sofurryfiles.com/std/preview?page=727743&filename=Slate+-+Pillow+Nest+-+small.jpg
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