lierdumoa | Fic: Mutability 2/?

Title: Mutability
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Pairing: Sheppard/Mckay
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Rodney gets turned into a woman. Mad hijinks ensue. Post "Aurora."
A/N: Thanks to

fashes,

permetaform,

seperis, and

z_rayne for their sharp eyes and invaluable insights. Thanks also to all the poor folk on instant messenger who sat there and listened while I bitched and then petted me and told me I was pretty.
Goto: part 1|part 2

part 2: charm and strange

Ronon made his way to the lunch line almost supernaturally fast the instant he entered the cafeteria. Teyla and John followed at a more reserved speed. Minutes later John was leading the way to Rodney's table, calling a greeting as he went.

"Hey, Rodney, I thought you were going to meet us in the gateroom this morning."

"I took last night off, so I had to work this morning. I made some progress on the...." Rodney looked up from his food and blanched, slightly, at the sight of Ronon and Teyla wearing matching confounded yet amused expressions. "On the, ah, device. I have a few theories for how it works now."

He turned to address Ronon and Teyla. "So how'd the trip go?"

Ronon missed his question, craning his neck in an effort to see more of Rodney's body from where he sat behind the lunch table. Teyla cleared her throat loudly for his benefit before answering Rodney. "Our trip went quite well."

Rodney nodded. John took it as his cue to sit down, sitting directly across from Rodney, Ronon sliding in next to him, Teyla joining him. John immediately dove into his lunch, trying to smother the smile on his face. Ronon began eating, for once paying virtually no attention to what he put in his mouth, his eyes hopping back and forth between Rodney's face and his chest. Teyla elbowed him sharply in the ribs. Turning a forced smile to Rodney, she continued. "The planet was not uninhabited as we supposed. The settlement we encountered seemed friendly. We brought a representative with us. She is—"

Ronon leaned in to whisper in her ear, "Did Dr. McKay turn into a woman?"

"It would seem so, yes," Teyla murmured back softly from the corner of her mouth.

"Just checking."

"—meeting with Dr. Weir at this moment."

Rodney, watched the two of them, his expression decidedly unamused. "I take it Dr. Weir hasn't briefed you yet?"

"We are to meet with her after she finishes her talk," Teyla answered, "We spoke briefly with her when we led diplomat Anek to her conference room, but she made no mention...." Teyla's eyebrows pulled together in consternation as she failed to come up with a suitable end for her sentence. She turned an inquisitive look to John, who simply shrugged.

By the time she turned back to Rodney his expression had turned utterly dour, and Ronon was back to indiscreetly eyeing his new body. Teyla elbowed Ronon again while smiling sanguinely at Rodney. "Ah, please, Dr. McKay. Tell us what happened," she said, starting on her meal.

Rodney shifted to uncomfortable in the space of a second, squirming slightly in his chair. "There was an incident with a piece of Ancient technology. We were unable to determine the nature of the device by any means other than turning it on. As you can see, it's activation brought about some rather ... unwanted changes. I should, however, be able to reverse the process as soon as I find a way to re-fuel its power supply," he added, sitting a bit straighter. "I suspect it will take no longer than a few weeks."

"What about that mission we have next week," Ronon asked, eyes crinkled in amusement.

"Beckett has confirmed that I am in perfect health, and there is no reason for me not to go."

"Right."

The four ate in silence. Ronon's eyes eventually dropped back to his plate. A good fifteen minutes of quiet went by before he set his elbows down on the table and said, "So what's it like having tits?"

There was a loud scrape as Rodney's knife cut through the thin plastic of his lunch plate to the harder tray below. Teyla blinked in shock. John continued blithely ignoring the conversation around him.

Rodney pursed his lips and stared Ronon in the eye for a long moment. Then he raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't you like to know."

It was Ronon's turn to raise his eyebrows. Next to him, Teyla was clenching her jaw, lips twitching oddly before going still once more. Rodney narrowed his eyes at both of them before swinging his gaze back to John, who looked back at him with wide-eyed innocence, half his sandwich stuffed in his mouth.

"So the new energy conservation plan will be going into effect soon." He cast his gaze around the table, stopping pointedly at each face. "I only hope there aren't any unfortunate fluctuations in the environmental controls while we're implementing the changes."

Teyla rose gracefully out of her seat, picking up her mostly finished meal as she went. "I should check to see whether Dr. Weir is finished with her meeting. Ronon and I need to give her our mission report."

"Yes," Ronon said, eyes still trailing over what he could see of Rodney's torso. "Mission report." He followed quickly behind Teyla as the two put back their trays and made their way out of the mess. They managed to maintain straight faces all the way up to the exit, at which point the loudness of the cafeteria could not quite drown out their laughter.

Rodney turned to John. "Aren't you leaving too?"

John took a long, drawn out drink, holding Rodney's gaze over the rim of his glass. "Haven't gotten to the pudding yet," John said finally, setting his water down, and picked up his fork again, for once further along in his meal than Rodney was in his.

Rodney eyed him for a moment. "What kind is it today?"

"Butterscotch, I think."

"Tell me if it's any good," Rodney said, and turned back to his own food.

The two ate in companionable silence for a good fifteen minutes. That is, until the sixth time Rodney found John staring at his chest in morbid fascination. Really, this was just getting old. He pointed his fork menacingly at John and ground out, "Do you mind?"

John's eyes snapped back towards his tray where he paused, as if steeling himself, before looking Rodney straight in the eye. "Can't say I do, McKay." John bit his lip and put on his best wounded yet flirtatious expression. "But if you want me to leave the table I will."

Oh. Oh. Not morbid fascination then.

Huh.

Right. Rodney supposed he wasn't too surprised. After all, for John flirting was practically a reflex. Charm was easy for him. People were easy for him and, of course, John was easiest of all. Rodney wasn't sure if he was more confused or insulted that John was all of a sudden choosing to turn that charm on him. He gave him a narrow eyed look. "I take it back. You're not Kirk. Even Kirk wouldn't leer at Spock if he got turned into a girl."

John raised an eyebrow, lips curling up into a smirk.

Rodney retraced his sentence in his head. "Okay, bad metaphor. Kirk was totally gay for Spock." Wait a second. "Wait a second." Rodney's fork snapped up to point at John again, this time with enough force to launch a gob of pudding toward John's face. "You're not supposed to notice those things."

"What, I'm supposed to be retarded now?" John picked up his napkin and wiped the spatter of pudding off his cheek, glaring angrily back at Rodney.

"You're supposed to be straight. Straight guys don't notice those things."

"You're straight," John replied, and glanced around furtively before pinning Rodney with a glare and hissing, "and would you mind keeping it down, McKay."

"I'm bi, not that it's any of your concern." Rodney gave John a confounded glare. "And why should I—" The sentence clicked in Rodney's head and he blanched. "Sorry, sorry, not saying anything. I didn't ask anything."

"And I didn't tell," John growled.

"And, uh, sorry about the. The pudding."

John grunted.

"Uhm, you've got..." Rodney pointed vaguely towards John's mouth, his voice barely a whisper.

John's expression shifted slowly from disgruntled to sly and vaguely conspiratorial. He cocked his head at Rodney and slowly licked the last drop of dessert from the corner of his mout.

Rodney unconsciously parted his lips.

John dragged a finger across his bottom lip, just to be sure, then said in a murmur, "You know, I always thought actions spoke louder than words, anyway."

Rodney blinked. Then he stared. "My God, you are unbelievable," he said finally, grabbing up his now empty tray and stalking off to the trash bins in a huff.

John's face broke into a wide grin. He knew a yes when he heard one.

John made it through three and a half hours of mindless paperwork without the smile quite leaving his face. Bureaucratic assignment delegation and mission write-ups and all the other hells that came with getting promoted by people who'd rather have fired him seemed to drift away under a cloud of carefree joy. Besides flying, the only thing better than football or Ferris wheels was having sex to look forward to at the end of a long workday.

It had been a while.

Shiny ten thousand year old incorporeal squids did not count.

John's unusually good mood carried him through weapons inspections and forty minutes of hand-to-hand with Teyla, at which point he inevitably found himself staring up at her from the floor with three new, spectacular bruises and sweat soaking into his t-shirt. Lying there, listening as she told him in so many words that he was the military leader of Atlantis and should therefore, for the love of the Ancestors, take his training sessions seriously and practice, John came to a realization. Something along the lines of, 'Crap, I'm a grownup.'

This was not a sci-fi TV show from the 1960's. There was no such thing as free love. It was way more difficult to avoid reality without Rodney's breasts around to distract him.

John thought about this for a minute, then decided to break for dinner.

He showered and changed clothes first, arriving just in time to see Rodney slide out of the mess, stuffing the last of his meal into his mouth and sucking the crumbs off of his thumb and forefinger with an obscenely wet pop. He was hitching up his pants with his free hand when he passed John, his slacks now having a tendency to slide down his narrower waist. He glanced up and blushed slightly upon seeing John's face, muttering a terse "Lieutenant Colonel" before continuing on his way. John covertly adjusted himself and stepped through the open door of the cafeteria just in time to see Ronon burning a hole in Rodney's ass with his eyes.

John shook his head and headed for the servers, got his dinner, then sat down with Ronon and a couple of newer military personnel, tray in hand. Dinner was friendly and brief. Rodney, mercifully, didn't come up in conversation.

John went back to his room and paced for a good half hour before finally heading down to the labs with every intention of calling the whole thing off, or pretending he hadn't actually meant what he said the way he'd said it—whichever was less likely to result in Rodney inflicting inventive and untraceable revenge upon him. A chickenshit thing to do but sometimes, John figured, a man just had to suck it up, make the hard choice, roll with the punches or, well, run the fuck away.

He liked to think of it as a practical variant on the application of 'military thrust.'

John made his way to Rodney's lab, most certainly not thinking about the delineated points Rodney's nipples made under the cloth of his uniform shirt, or the curve of his prominent—

"Ronon!" John turned to see him approaching the transporter doors.

"Sheppard."

"Where're you headed?"

"Figured I'd check up on Dr. McKay."

John politely stepped back to let him enter first. "Well hey, I'm headed that way myself. Thought I'd provide some moral support."

Ronon gave John an unreadable look. "Right."

John watched him, then tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. Ronon stepped out of the transporter instead of responding and the two began walking together down the hall. John bit his lip before he found his mouth opening without any direct permission from his brain to say, "I'd be careful around Rodney. After lunch, he probably thinks you were—"

Ronon stopped abruptly. It took a moment for John to register that they were standing in front of the open door to Rodney's lab. Rodney was sitting in front of a laptop and Miko was pouring two cups of coffee a few feet away from him. John surveyed the rest of the room before turning back to Ronon, who was regarding him with a faint smile.

"Are you calling dibs, Sheppard?"

"Am I...." John looked at him disbelievingly. "You're talking about Rodney, here."

Ronon slouched back, slipped his thumbs into his belt loops and cocked an eyebrow.

That was just ... no. No. Hell no. John knew that look. John invented that look. He straightened his spine, shifting into the rigid stance of a seasoned military officer and crossing his arms over his chest and putting on his best 'do as I say, not as I do' expression. "Yes, Ronon. I'm calling dibs."

Ronon gave John a slight smirk and then, raising his hands in casual surrender, walked away without protest, sparing one last lingering look at Rodney's ass as he went. John stared after him for a moment, then shook his head and walked into the lab. Military thrust was a bad euphemism anyway.

He sidled quietly up to Rodney, who was seated in front of his laptop looking for all the world as if he were surfing the internet. "I had no idea we had websearch here."

Rodney jumped halfway out of his chair before turning to glare at John. "I'm looking through the Ancient database."

"And this was the best interface you could come up with?"

Rodney scowled darkly. "Well, it's just a tad more complicated than a websearch Colonel and ... is there a reason you're here bothering me?"

John's grin was just this side of wicked. "Just wondering when you were getting off work."

Rodney flushed slightly. His hands worked restlessly over his keyboard for a moment before he clenched them together in his lap. "Not until very late."

John smiled and, leaning in far too close to Rodney's ear, murmured, "I'll wait up."

John stepped back from Rodney in time to catch Zelenka giving the both of them a measuring look. He smiled jauntily at Zelenka and let his hand brush Rodney's back, thumb sliding gently over the arch of a shoulder blade, before slipping silently back out of the room and towards his quarters.

Rodney sat preternaturally still in his chair for a long half hour after John left, staring blindly at his computer screen until Radek called him over to help with an equation. Ninety minutes and three gross calculation errors later, Rodney found himself shoved out of the lab with a terse and most likely insulting goodbye message.

Rodney really needed to learn Czech.

He blinked a few times in succession before deciding to head back to his room. Four minutes later he found himself in front of John's bedroom door with no clear idea of how he'd gotten there and, oh, fuck it. He slapped his palm down on the wall panel and stepped in through the retracting doors.

"So you were serious, right?"

John was sprawled across his bed sheets, drooling slightly, his copy of War and Peace lying open under his slack fingers. He sat up abruptly at Rodney's words, blinking awake and wiping the back of his hand bashfully across his mouth. He combed his fingers awkwardly through his hair before looking up. "Rodney! Hi, I was just about to. I mean. I was going to, uhm." He trailed off, blinking.

"I'll take that as a yes. Lock the door, would you?"

John' rubbed his hands over his eyes in a way that was just frighteningly adorable before he registered Rodney's words. His forehead scrunched for a moment, then smoothed out again as a series of clicks came from the direction of the wall panel. "Rodney—"

"So I figured out the clitoral orgasm thing yesterday. Took a while. It's weird. Feels way different from a male orgasm. Though, I guess, it might have more in common with a prostate orgasm than your typical ejaculation, or at least a few books I looked at when I was considering medicine as an undergrad described the chemical release as being ... comparative."

Rodney seem to suddenly become aware of the vaguely obscene hand gestures with which he'd been unconsciously punctuating his wandering monologue. He curled his fists at his sides and continued.

"Anyway, I liked it. But I figured I'd like it more if you did it. I mean, not that you'd be better at it, though I imagine you would be given what I can assume is your vast experience in this area. That is. Well, I'd like it because I like you, hair notwithstanding—"

"Hey!"

"—and, uhm. I think this is the part where I stop babbling and take off all my clothes."

John was sure he would have been able to come up with a cleverly teasing yet seductive response to that if only he hadn't been so busy nodding vigorously. As it was, he could barely croak out, "That, uh, that sound like a good plan, Rodney."

Rodney straightened. "Well, it should be. I did come up with it after all." He whisked his shirt over his head, tossed it to the floor, then paused, arms coming down to wrap self-consciously around his belly. "This is okay, right? I mean, I didn't mean to barge in or anything and I know I don't exactly look like the supermodels you've probably dated in the past though, I mean, hey! Big breasts here! That probably makes up for something and, uh."

John managed to slide off the bed and advance towards Rodney without having made any conscious decision to do so, hands reaching for Rodney's waist and sliding up his sides until John's thumbs were brushing the underside of Rodney's aforementioned breasts. Rodney stuttered at the touch. John could feel it in the slight shiver of Rodney's ribcage under his hands.

Rodney continued, voice higher pitched and slightly breathless. "Well, I don't want this to change anything, you know, between us. I really like you. Which I said already. I mean, of course I like you. You're my best friend, or at least I think of you as my best friend and ... uhm."

Rodney tentatively brought his hands to John's waist. "The babbling wasn't, you know exactly part of my plan."

John slid his palms over the curve of Rodney's breasts and up until he was cupping Rodney's jaw with careful, careful fingers.

"Not so great," Rodney said, voice trailing off, "in execution as it was in theory." He swallowed hard. John watched him for a moment, face bordering on incredulous, as if he couldn't quite believe Rodney was here, half naked, describing female sexual proclivities with the frankness and awkwardness of a college professor delivering his virgin lecture. Or as if John couldn't quite believe that Rodney doing that could be as scarily hot as it was.

Jesus Christ, but it was.

"Perfect," he breathed, curling his fingers around the back of Rodney's neck. "It's fucking perfect."

And then John just went for it, pulling Rodney in, thrusting his tongue between Rodney's parted lips, just tasting every corner he could reach. His hands slid down Rodney's neck to his shoulders, his back. He dug his fingers into Rodney's hips hard enough to leave marks before stroking up towards his ribs. He couldn't stop touching everything, anything, whatever he could get his hands on, fuck. Fuck, it was so fucking hot. All that skin and Rodney was just pushing into it, pressing himself against John's palms like he wanted closer or harder or just more.

Rodney clawed his own smaller fingers up John's back, along his shoulder blades, rucking up John's shirt like he couldn't stand to have John covered with it anymore. "God, why are you still wearing this?" he moaned as John's lips found their way towards the line of his neck. "Why are you still wearing anything?" His voice shifted into a growl on the last word. He dropped his hands to John's waistband and hooked his thumbs over the elastic of John's sweatpants as John's clever mouth found the base of this throat. "Should just be naked all the time."

John broke away gasping as Rodney shoved the sweatpants out of the way. He lost his grip on Rodney as his shirt was yanked carelessly over his head and tossed blindly across the room. Rodney stared. John stood still, disoriented at the loss of contact and unexpectedly nervous under the sudden scrutiny. At least, until Rodney dragged his eyes back up to John's face and John couldn't even think of being nervous because he was too caught up in being noticeably and painfully hard. "Bed," he said, voice hoarse with lust, and moved back a step.

And promptly tripped over his pants, falling ass first to the floor.

Rodney stared dumbly for a moment.

John blushed.

Rodney's hands flew up to cover his mouth like a scandalized schoolgirl. Then he started laughing. Laughing so hard he couldn't breathe. Laughing so hard his knees went weak with it and he dropped to a heap between John's legs, giggling into John's shoulder even as he pawed his way across John's chest, his stomach, the bones of his hips, tapering off only when his hands discovered John's cock, fingers curling around it on reflex.

John's breath caught in his throat, his stomach muscles clenching.

Rodney finished the last of his amusement on a sigh and relaxed for a moment against John's shoulder before leaning back. "I think," he said, voice warm, "you said something about a bed?"

Between one moment and the next John was kicking off his sweatpants and crawling backwards up onto the mattress, dragging Rodney along with him. They fell together onto the sheets, and in the next instant, John had Rodney pinned in a straddle, mouth trailing down his sternum, hands attacking the fly of Rodney's government issue cargo pants with military precision. "Off," he found himself saying. "Off, I want these off, I want you naked McKay. I want—"

"Issuing orders, Major?" Rodney gasped, even has he lifted to let John tug his pants out from under his hips.

John didn't even bother to correct him on the rank, but grabbed Rodney's hands and spread them out above his head until Rodney was splayed out, hips twisting, back arching, stomach sliding up against John's cock like the best thing ever. He tore his hands out of John's grip and sank his fingers into John's hair and yanked him down and fuck. Rodney worked out, and how had John forgotten that? All that compact muscle hidden under deceptively soft curves. "I want—"

John tore himself away from Rodney's mouth and pushed himself back off the edge of the bed, sliding down to land on his knees with a thud. Rodney sat up abruptly. "What are you—what? Come back here."

John ignored him in favor of grabbing him by the legs and pulling one, then the other off the mattress edge in front of him. He put a hand to either knee and pushed them apart with a slight nudge, head lifting to give Rodney an imploring look.

"Oh my god, you're—"

And Rodney's legs fell open like a gift.

"Yes," John said, and bent his head, and went to work. Slow at first. His lips slid in soft against the wet folds between Rodney's legs. John teased over Rodney's clit with his teeth, not enough to hurt, just enough to let him feel it. Rodney's breathing hitched at the unexpected shock of sensation. John dipped lower and thrust in with his tongue, slowly at first, going deeper with each stroke, faster, muscle memory kicking in. He was good at this. John remembered being good at this.

Fuck, he'd missed this.

Rodney gave a soft gasp, and then there were hands dropping to clench in John's hair, hard enough to hurt, legs tensing around John's head and he wondered whether it counted as an autoerotic asphyxiation kink that he was turned on by women who could smother him with their thighs while he was going down on them because he couldn't even remember the last time he'd been this turned on without coming all over himself.

His hands were clenched in Rodney's hips, holding him down, and if he looked up he could see the line of Rodney's stomach as he arched back, his hands in John's hair the only thing keeping him vaguely upright. John just kept pushing deeper, harder, wanting to taste everything, wanting to taste Rodney come, feel it in the soft wet skin shuddering against his mouth, bury himself in it. He dug his fingers hard into Rodney's hips and Rodney's distant moaning raised in pitch, and then his legs were tensing, his fingers curling into fists and John couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe, didn't care.

Rodney released him abruptly and John fell back gasping, not quite sure if he could even talk at this point. There was come spattering the side of the bed stand and God help him if he could remember how it got there. He hadn't even touched himself. He took a moment to pull himself together, wipe his face clean, breathe. He could still taste Rodney everywhere.

Girl parts.

Girl smell.

"Jesus," he said finally, when he managed to will his tongue into doing something other than sticking uselessly to the bottom of his mouth. "Jesus fucking Christ."

He looked up to find Rodney staring down at him, mouth breathing with a look of awe on his face. "You just. I can't believe you." He took a deep breath to compose himself. "God, are you okay? Why didn't you tap out or something?"

John, still catching his breath, somehow managed to give him what was surely the most obscenely self-satisfied grin Rodney had ever seen outside of a mirror. "Because, Rodney, that would have meant stopping."

Rodney's gaze dropped from John's face to John's crotch to John's mess on the bed stand. He fell onto the bed with a groan. "God, you're insane, you know that? That was. That was incredible. Your mouth is incredible. I can't feel my toes. And you got off on that. I can't believe you got off on that." Rodney sat back up abruptly. "Oh my God, you're such a whore!"

"Hey!"

Rodney snorted and flopped back onto the mussed sheets. Eventually John clambered back up onto the mattress and started kissing him, lazy and open mouthed.

And Rodney kissed back.

John must have dozed off at some point. He woke up after what felt like no time at all to the feel of Rodney's impatient nudging. He looked blearily up at Rodney, blinking owlishly for a few seconds. "What time is it?"

Rodney glanced over at his alarm clock. "Three twenty-two. It's been half an hour. Now wake up already—I want you to fuck me before I head back."

"And you're still up? Are you always this wired after sex?"

"Well, not really, no, but since the rather unfortunate lab incident it seems I've been given the refractory period of a, well a. A woman. Actually. And I've never done this with a guy before, so it seems kind of wrong for me to leave before I've had sufficient time with your crotch."

"You said you were bi."

"In theory! I don't exactly have people of either sex throwing themselves at me every time I turn around, unlike someone I would mention."

"People do not throw themselves at me."

"No, you throw yourself at them. And then they catch."

John paused a moment to wonder why he was arguing when Rodney was offering him sex. Rodney took the break in conversation as an opportunity to run his hands down John's stomach towards his cock and start stroking. John's eyes went a little unfocused and his breathing got fast in his throat and then Rodney started talking again, half babbling, all porn.

"I've thought about us and, uh, penetrative sexual intercourse. Before. Thought about us fucking. Imagined your cock. Imagined your cock in my ass, hurting but feeling good. You'd think pain would be a bigger turnoff for me but this would just feel. Natural."

Rodney stretched out next to John, chin at John's shoulder, mouth at his ear, whispering secrets, never taking his hand away. "Like sex is supposed to feel. When I was a teenager figuring out the whole orgasm thing I would end up very short of breath and hyperaware, like coming down off a panic attack and it was a bit frightening, you know, the first time. I'd had panic attacks and allergic reactions and fairly bad associations with both but this was. But I just couldn't stop doing it. Touching myself."

He laughed softly and self-consciously. "Like I'm touching you. My last girlfriend, she thought I, you know, talked too much. In bed. Our sex life didn't exactly work out."

"More," John gasped, "for me," hips starting to jerk into Rodney's grip.

Rodney smiled at that, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah." John breathed, turning towards Rodney for an open mouthed kiss. Rodney wrapped one leg over John's hip. John pushed his tongue into Rodney's mouth, hands sliding over Rodney's shoulder and down his torso and between his legs and fuck, Rodney was just amazingly wet. John stroked for a minute, then broke away gasping. Rodney whined and tried to grab John's hand back.

"Hold on," he groaned. "I've got. I've got."

He shoved Rodney off of him, crawling across the mattress towards his bedside table. He opened the top drawer and tossed a condom down next to Rodney's thigh.

Rodney frowned, trailing his gaze from the condom to John's face. "They tested us all thoroughly before we came here. I don't have any ... oh. Oh my god, I'm a woman."

"I thought we just established this."

"Yes, well it hadn't really sunk in before," Rodney snapped, sitting up on the bed. He quickly retreated back into his previous horrified stupor.

The silence stretched. John's eager look faded fast. He sat down heavily next to Rodney, suddenly feeling all the bruises from his earlier session with Teyla. "Hey, it's fine, we don't have to—" He rested a hand tentatively on Rodney's shoulder, moving to rub gently at Rodney's back as he seemed to melt into John's touch.

Rodney's eyes dropped down to his breasts, his hips, his ... her ... fuck. Fucking pronouns. Fucking God! Rodney was female, he could. He could.

He could hear Elizabeth's voice echoing the word, 'Ovaries,' faintly in his head. "I'm a woman," he said again, as if testing to see if the meaning would change with different emphasis.

John ducked his head, scratching idly at the back of his neck with his other hand. "Uh ... yeah. Kinda, yeah." He reluctantly took his hand away from Rodney and got up from the bed, walking over to where he'd thrown his pants down on the floor. He began pulling them on. "I guess I'll just—"

No, wait. What?

"Hey, did I say we were stopping? No stopping. Get back here." Rodney snapped back into action, sitting up on the bed and reaching out his arms to make grasping motions in the direction of John's still very interested cock.

John paused mid motion and gave Rodney a hard, assessing look. "Are you sure?"

Rodney skewered him with his most deeply frustrated glare. "Yes."

John dropped his pants, stepping carefully out of them before approaching the bed in two quick strides. "Really sure?"

Rodney scooted forward on the bed, then reached up to place his hands on John's chest, blinking at the incongruous image of smaller, more feminine hands, pale against John's skin. A woman's hands. Yes. "Yes. Yes please."

John regarded him consideringly for a moment, then cupped his hands around the back of Rodney's head and pulled him in for a slow kiss, shifting as he did to kneel up on the bed, pressing one knee up between Rodney's legs. He slid his hands over Rodney's shoulders and down to cup his breasts, feeling the press of warm skin, sliding his thumbs across either nipple, before gently wrapping his hands around Rodney's waist and lowering him to the bed.

"Because you know, I'd hate to push you into anything," he murmured against Rodney's mouth, hand sliding out to snatch the condom up off the mattress. Rodney just groaned, yanking John down onto him as soon as he rolled the condom on. He wrapped his legs around John's waist and John clenched his hands in the sheets above Rodney's head and pushed forward and in and it was.

It was.

"Ow! Ow! Hymen!"

"Uh...."

"Oh crap, hold on, that stings. Give me a minute."

John tensed possibly every muscle he had for long, agonizing seconds until everything started to burn and he groaned out, "Are you. Are you—"

"Okay, go."

He started moving slowly, with tentative care and simultaneous fumbling awkwardness of a high school senior removing his first bra strap. Rodney was panting slightly under him, getting used to the sensation. The rhythm felt off, somehow, like a song stuck in John's head and if he could just remember the lyrics he could....

John knew this. He paused for a moment and braced himself on one hand, slipping the other under Rodney's hip, changing the angle ever so slightly. His thumb painted circles in the skin of Rodney's upper thigh before he traced his fingers up towards the damp skin between Rodney's breasts. He lowered his arms until he was balanced on his elbows, then lowered his head to follow the path of his fingers with his tongue, smiling as Rodney twisted against him, pressing for more.

John knew this. He pulled out slowly, then pushed in ever so slightly faster than that, adjusting his hips to move deeper, teeth working gently around the tips of Rodney's breasts and God. Rodney's hips were rocking up to meet him, pulling him in, just a bit more, just. Just. Yes.

God, yes. John fell into a hard rhythm and this time it felt right. He could hear it in Rodney's gulping breaths, his voice rising into broken moans, making noises that could have been 'God' or 'John' or maybe even 'fuck,' but with all the consonants missing. His hands were pawing at John's back, fingers clenching into John's shoulders, mouth wet, eyes distant, just arching into it, back bent like a bow, hips doing this delicious writhe around John's waist.

Fuck, and he was so fucking tight, and wet and perfect. John dragged himself up Rodney's torso to press his mouth to Rodney's, hips thrusting continuously as he slid his tongue between Rodney's lips. He was moaning something between one broken kiss and the next. His throat hurt and he was chanting, over and over again like he couldn't stop, repeating, "Oh God, oh God, oh God...."

The bed sheets were rucking up under his hands and whatever thin veneer of control he'd managed earlier was evaporating far too quickly. "Rodney."

"Oh fuck, I'm—"

"Rodney."

"I'm—"

And Rodney was grinding up against him, skin damp with sweat, so beautiful John couldn't breathe, and when John came it was like bleeding out, too heavy and too light and all at once.

His arms trembled over Rodney for a second before crumbling underneath him. He just barely managed to land on Rodney's side instead of directly on top of him. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling for a long minute, blinking the sweat out of his eyes.

"You got off, right?" he asked.

Rodney cleared his throat. "Yes."

"Oh, good."

They were quiet for a moment.

"Are you heading back?"

"Was planning on it."

"Right."

John let out a long yawn. Rodney reached out to pat him on the stomach before pushing himself laboriously up into a sitting position. "I'll go ask Beckett about birth control in the morning."

John closed his eyes and smiled. "You do that."

Goto: part 1|part 2

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Current Music: "How Many Cans" by Soul Coughing