Work Text:
“We had a deal!” John said, outraged.
“We were drunk!” Rodney protested. “It doesn’t count.”
“It sure as hell counted when it was me on the receiving end,” John reminded him. He slammed the box of condoms down on Rodney’s desk, crossed his arms, and glared.
If one of us ever gets turned into a woman by an Ancient device, we are totally having sex, they’d sworn, and it had taken Rodney about five minutes to cash in on that little oath when it was John who woke up in the infirmary without his dick.
And Rodney hadn’t been messing around. He’d fucked John about a dozen times in less than four days, and when he couldn’t get it up anymore, he'd happily gone to oral town on John’s brand new girl parts. Rodney was definitely no slouch in that department, either; John'd spent a month feeling like he'd short-changed every woman he'd ever gone down on in his life.
It had been an awesome couple of days, like living in a porno, and John had thought about it a lot in the two years since--mostly when he was alone and he wasn't wearing any pants--but he'd given up hoping it would ever happen again. How many genderswapping devices did one civilization need, anyway?
At least two, apparently, and they hadn't seen fit to label either of them, so here they were. John was ready to return the favor or die trying, but now that it was Rodney who was temporarily de-dicked, the asshole wanted to back out.
“I can change my mind if I want to,” Rodney said. He was sitting on his bed, primly holding his bathrobe closed like some proper Victorian maiden, thighs pressed together as if he were in danger of being ravaged at any moment.
Your loss, John wanted to say, but that sounded cocky even for him, so he just sighed and reached for the condoms; he’d be damned if he was going to leave them here for Rodney to use with someone else. Then he looked over at Rodney again, just to make sure he’d really seen what he thought he saw.
There was no mistaking it: Rodney had shaved his legs.
Instead of pocketing the box and walking out, John ripped it open and tossed it on the bed. Rodney glanced at it nervously and pressed his knees together tighter than ever. A flush crept up out of the bathrobe and over his cheeks as John moved closer.
Rodney was really kind of pretty like this, John thought. His eyes seemed even bigger and bluer, his mouth vulnerable and soft in a face suddenly without stubble. His hair was still short, but it looked okay, and even cute where it curled on his forehead and behind his ears. John could see the curve of a hip, the soft press of breasts, through the bathrobe, and it made him want to touch him.
"I guess if you don't want to, you don't want to," John said, putting as much nonchalance on it as he could manage when he was half-hard. "But I think I still owe you a few orgasms from last time." He unbuttoned his BDU shirt in what he hoped was a manly and attractive manner, and tossed it in the direction of the nearest chair.
“Well,” Rodney said, eyes flicking from John to the condom box, "you did hold up your side of the bargain.”
“I sure did,” John agreed, kicking off his barely-tied boots. He hadn't even thought twice about fucking Rodney back then, something he was a little self-conscious about now in the face of Rodney’s coyness.
John had jumped right in—had even been looking forward to it, once it had been verified it wasn’t a permanent switch. He probably would have shown up in Rodney’s room, just like he had this time, if Rodney hadn’t appeared at his side two seconds after he left the infirmary. "But if you want to back out..."
Rodney’s grip on his bathrobe loosened, and his knees opened just a bit.
“I suppose I’ll never hear the end of it if I do,” Rodney sighed, and he was probably trying to sound put-upon, but he reached up and hooked a finger behind John’s belt buckle, tugging him closer.
“You’ll never live it down,” John said, and went where Rodney’s finger was leading him. Down and down, onto the bed, easing Rodney back so he could brace his arms and hover over him. Rodney’s legs fell open, and John grinned down at him.
Rodney still looked a little nervous, but his hands were sliding up under John’s T-shirt, running up his sides. John settled, pressing his erection down into soft warmth as he nudged the robe aside to get at a nipple. Rodney had a really nice rack, John noted. This was going to be stellar.
Rodney’s back bowed when John closed his mouth around his nipple and sucked, fingers digging into John’s shoulders. “Jesus fucking Christ,” Rodney said, so John did it again.
It didn't take long for things to pick up speed after that, and while John had pictured himself really wowing Rodney, lavishing attention on all his new equipment, Rodney seemed more interested in eating John alive. He latched onto John’s neck with his mouth, groped him through his pants, and shoved two fingers in his mouth when John tried to bring up the concept of undressing first.
In the end, John barely had a chance to do much of anything before he was flipped over flat on his back, shirt pushed up, pants pushed down, while Rodney rode him like there was no tomorrow. He was at least able to get one hand between Rodney's legs, which had a pleasingly quick result, but mostly he just held on and tried to keep up.
He was gritting his teeth, aiming for one more orgasm for Rodney before he let himself come, when Rodney suddenly, thankfully, slowed his pace. John ran his hands up and down Rodney’s sides and rolled his hips to match the easy rhythm as he tried to catch his breath, grateful for the break. It didn't even seem weird when Rodney leaned down and kissed him, though that was something they hadn't done the last time.
“I want to do this again,” Rodney said, grazing John's chin with his teeth. His eyes were still closed.
“Oh, we’re doing this again,” John panted. He’d spent the whole morning clearing his calendar for the rest of the week.
“No, I mean later." Rodney opened his eyes. "You know, after.”
John went still, uncertain, and made himself meet Rodney’s eyes. “After--" He had to stop and swallow. "After you change back?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t know you wanted that,” he said carefully, because there were probably a hundred things he could say that would be absolutely wrong right now, and it was really important to not screw this up. "You want that?"
Rodney stopped moving, too. “I think I do,” he said. His voice was hoarse.
John grabbed Rodney's face--too rough, he had time think--and kissed him hard. “I do, too," he said, against Rodney's mouth. "Rodney, I do. God…” Rodney dug his nails into John's shoulders and started moving hard and fast, and John couldn't talk anymore.
Everything got weird and disjointed as John was caught up between the smooth drag and pull of Rodney on his cock, the feel of Rodney’s soft breasts bouncing in his hands, and the kaleidoscope of images that ran through his head—Rodney back to normal, getting him on his stomach and fucking him, really giving it to him like he had before; Rodney sucking his—no, John sucking Rodney’s cock, long and slow, taking him deep—and John came so hard his hamstring seized up and the whole thing ended with him yelping and flailing as Rodney clenched tight around him, and there was almost a disaster with the condom.
"Holy shit," Rodney said, once he'd flopped down on top of John's arm. "That was..."
"Yeah," John gasped, pressing his other hand to his chest so his heart wouldn't pound right through. "Holy shit."
They spent some time sucking wind and holy shitting some more, and then John got his arm back from Rodney long enough to get rid of his creased and sweaty clothes. It took a little more work to get Rodney’s bathrobe untangled and shoved aside, and Rodney was flatteringly little help, still clumsy and boneless.
John, feeling vindicated, couldn't help rubbing it in a little. "And you almost missed out, playing hard to get."
"I was hard to get," Rodney said, pulling the sheet up and tucking it under his armpits. "I just let you convince me." He probably would have tossed his hair, if he’d had enough to toss.
"Bullshit. You shaved your legs. I've dated enough women to know what that means."
"It was a precautionary measure," Rodney said, and he was getting that prim and proper look again, so John rolled on top of him and kissed him for a while.
It started out lazy and comfortable, but it wasn’t long before Rodney was making little moaning sounds and wrapping his thighs around John’s hips. "You ready for more?" John asked, even though it was obvious. Two could play hard to get.
Rodney snorted in John's ear. "There's no way you're ready to go again."
John slid down the bed, taking the sheet with him, pausing to press an open-mouthed kiss to Rodney’s hip before he gently eased his knees open and got comfortable. “Let me show you something a guy taught me a while back.”
THE END.