RP for for_earth.
It's the shock of being female, really.
True to form, Nautilus sprung this on him while he was asleep. So he awakened with his balance all wrong and his hips too wide and don't even talk about the breasts...
He steps out into the exercise room, sheet wrapped around his body. Stupidly modest - Angilo isn't even here. No one's here.
And yet.
Rayne makes sure that the touchscreen isn't broadcasting - the last thing he needs is for the entire city to see him as a naked girl - and he lets the sheet fall.
Yeah.
He's a girl.
He manages to tear his eyes away from the total lack of a penis - Jesus this feels weird - and forces himself to examine the rest of his body. Pale skin, as ever. Hips, he already noticed that. His muscles are still defined, he's still strong. Breasts are small, for a girl, but definitely female. And the curves are new, the curve inward above his hip, the very slight swell in his abdomen instead of just muscle.
Rayne is terrified, shocked, curious all at the same time. Even his skin feels different. More sensitized, sharper, like he can feel everything.
He steps a hint closer to the mirror, gaze caught in fascination. His hand skims down his hip, stroking almost, sliding over the unfamiliarity of the new form. He thinks its just his imagination, but the skin itself feels softer, somehow.
The hand steals up, cautiously, like he still can't shake the impression that what he's doing is forbidden. One more hesitation, and he strokes the tips of his fingers up the curve of his breast - his breast, now that just feels weird in his head - and around the edge of the aureole. It doesn't feel different than the rest of his skin, for which he's obscurely disappointed, but then, the rest of him feels electric, sensitized, so he doesn't have much to complain about.
He traces down, to the nipple, and he's surprised to find that the exceedingly soft skin of the aureole is - not numb, exactly, but not as attuned as the rest of his skin.
Rayne becomes aware of a distant warmth, a strange, aching tingle inside him.
With a start, he realizes it's sexual arousal. That he'd become accustomed to arousal coming with the tight, hot feel of an erection, so accustomed that he almost hadn't recognized this for what it is.
Gods! He's staring at himself, gender-changed, and he's getting hot for it.
Rayne drops his hand, like he's been burned.
"Derek?"
Rayne turns, arms moving up to fold across his chest. Defensive. And fuck, it's Angilo.
Angilo who's just staring.
Rayne opens his mouth to explain --
"Who the hell are you?" Angilo demands, and Rayne wants to laugh, in a hysterical, driven-to-the-brink kind of way. What do you mean who am I? I'm your lover --
And then Angilo is against him, moving to pin him against the mirror.
Rayne freezes, consciously suppressing the reflexes that would have had Angilo on the mat straightaway.
"I asked you a question," snarls Angilo.
"Who do you think I am?" snaps Rayne. "Get off me, idiot." And he makes eye contact with Angilo, willing him to understand. To realize.
Angilo lets Rayne go, all at once, taking a quick, stung step backwards. "Derek?" His voice is soft, shocked, brows furrowed.
Rayne picks himself up against the wall. "Ow," he says, reproachfully, reaching up a hand to rub the back of his neck where it impacted with the mirror. And then he realizes that this is ap osition that rather emphasizes his breasts, and he drops his arm, hastily, reaching for the sheet on the ground.
Angilo stops him, a hand on Rayne's arm, his eyes caught on Rayne's body. Fascinated and shocked, just like Rayne was a few moments ago.
"But," says Angilo. "You're--"
"The city changes things," interrupts Rayne. "Sometimes it turns people into animals, sometimes it makes them sing, I'm guessing this is the latest weird event." He darts forward, ignoring the flush spreading across his face, and seizes the sheet. Pulls it up, wrapping it around himself, hiding the new skin, new curves, new sensations under comfortingly cool cloth.
"Wait," says Angilo, and he reaches out, stopping just short of Rayne's shoulder. Goosebumps spread across Rayne's skin, where Angilo hasn't - quite - touched yet -- And Angilo doesn't even touch there, but moves down, hooking his fingers under the sheet.
Rayne shivers, wishing he could make a protest, but he seems to have gone curiously silent. He doesn't want to speak, whether from humiliation or humiliated arousal.
Angilo draws the sheet aside, bit by bit, fingers close - so close - but still not quite touching Rayne's skin. Maybe he's still in shock too. Maybe he doesn't really know how to cope --
Angilo takes a breath, about to speak.
Rayne flinches back, away from him. Just a few inches. He's uncomfortable, uncomfortably vulnerable. He doesn't want even Angilo to see him like this, in the few awkward moments after transformation.
"Derek," and Angilo's tone is low, soothing. "Are you okay?"
"Well this is pretty fucked up," says Rayne, "so I'm a little--" And his breath stops. Just stops.
Angilo's palm is flat on the curve of his waist. Gentle, and he moves, skimming up Rayne's ribs. Angilo's eyes are wide, his touch not as firm as it should be, but he's touching all the same.
"David," says Rayne, weakly.
“Can I touch you?” asks Angilo. “Is that okay?” but he’s not letting go. Not breaking contact. Hand moves up Rayne’s side, fingers curving around to his back, and Angilo stops, waits.
Rayne nods, not really trusting himself to speak.
And Angilo’s hand moves to cup his breast, palm rolling against his nipple. The touch seems almost reverent - and Rayne’s expecting a stab of sensation, arousal, because this is an erogenous zone, isn’t it? But instead he just feels all too conscious of his new body. Trembling with it.
“You’re just as beautiful like this,” says Angilo. “Good god, look at you…”
Rayne swallows. “You’re dealing with this very well.” And it wasn’t really a compliment, more of an indication that Rayne isn’t dealing with this very well.
Angilo’s hand drops. “Sorry,” he says, and Rayne shivers, again, cold from the room. It’s an exercise room, he’s Martian, he keeps it cold, that makes sense. He just - he was just in here to figure things out. That’s all.
He moves to go past Angilo -
“Here,” says Angilo, and he drapes the sheet around Rayne’s shoulders. Covering him up. Using the excuse of the motion to draw Rayne closer.
Rayne is a little irritated to find that he’s even slighter, as opposed to Angilo’s form, than he used to be.
He shrugs the sheet closer around his shoulders.
An arm circles his waist from behind. Warm presence against his back, and he can feel - well. Rayne isn’t the only one feeling the pull of sexual arousal.
“I love you, you know that?” Angilo asks, softly.
Rayne nods. He knows.
“It’s shocking, I get it,” says Angilo, “but it doesn’t have to be all bad, right?”
Rayne already knows what he’s going to ask. Has to stop himself from saying yes, preemptively.
“We can figure this out.”
He doesn’t want to hear it. Doesn’t want to hear what Angilo would ask to do to him. Details, that’s all that is, and he doesn’t know what he wants. Or what feels the best. It’s all new.
Shit, shit, and is he going to trust Angilo with finding all this out? With a body he doesn’t even know?
"Yeah," he says.
True to form, Nautilus sprung this on him while he was asleep. So he awakened with his balance all wrong and his hips too wide and don't even talk about the breasts...
He steps out into the exercise room, sheet wrapped around his body. Stupidly modest - Angilo isn't even here. No one's here.
And yet.
Rayne makes sure that the touchscreen isn't broadcasting - the last thing he needs is for the entire city to see him as a naked girl - and he lets the sheet fall.
Yeah.
He's a girl.
He manages to tear his eyes away from the total lack of a penis - Jesus this feels weird - and forces himself to examine the rest of his body. Pale skin, as ever. Hips, he already noticed that. His muscles are still defined, he's still strong. Breasts are small, for a girl, but definitely female. And the curves are new, the curve inward above his hip, the very slight swell in his abdomen instead of just muscle.
Rayne is terrified, shocked, curious all at the same time. Even his skin feels different. More sensitized, sharper, like he can feel everything.
He steps a hint closer to the mirror, gaze caught in fascination. His hand skims down his hip, stroking almost, sliding over the unfamiliarity of the new form. He thinks its just his imagination, but the skin itself feels softer, somehow.
The hand steals up, cautiously, like he still can't shake the impression that what he's doing is forbidden. One more hesitation, and he strokes the tips of his fingers up the curve of his breast - his breast, now that just feels weird in his head - and around the edge of the aureole. It doesn't feel different than the rest of his skin, for which he's obscurely disappointed, but then, the rest of him feels electric, sensitized, so he doesn't have much to complain about.
He traces down, to the nipple, and he's surprised to find that the exceedingly soft skin of the aureole is - not numb, exactly, but not as attuned as the rest of his skin.
Rayne becomes aware of a distant warmth, a strange, aching tingle inside him.
With a start, he realizes it's sexual arousal. That he'd become accustomed to arousal coming with the tight, hot feel of an erection, so accustomed that he almost hadn't recognized this for what it is.
Gods! He's staring at himself, gender-changed, and he's getting hot for it.
Rayne drops his hand, like he's been burned.
"Derek?"
Rayne turns, arms moving up to fold across his chest. Defensive. And fuck, it's Angilo.
Angilo who's just staring.
Rayne opens his mouth to explain --
"Who the hell are you?" Angilo demands, and Rayne wants to laugh, in a hysterical, driven-to-the-brink kind of way. What do you mean who am I? I'm your lover --
And then Angilo is against him, moving to pin him against the mirror.
Rayne freezes, consciously suppressing the reflexes that would have had Angilo on the mat straightaway.
"I asked you a question," snarls Angilo.
"Who do you think I am?" snaps Rayne. "Get off me, idiot." And he makes eye contact with Angilo, willing him to understand. To realize.
Angilo lets Rayne go, all at once, taking a quick, stung step backwards. "Derek?" His voice is soft, shocked, brows furrowed.
Rayne picks himself up against the wall. "Ow," he says, reproachfully, reaching up a hand to rub the back of his neck where it impacted with the mirror. And then he realizes that this is ap osition that rather emphasizes his breasts, and he drops his arm, hastily, reaching for the sheet on the ground.
Angilo stops him, a hand on Rayne's arm, his eyes caught on Rayne's body. Fascinated and shocked, just like Rayne was a few moments ago.
"But," says Angilo. "You're--"
"The city changes things," interrupts Rayne. "Sometimes it turns people into animals, sometimes it makes them sing, I'm guessing this is the latest weird event." He darts forward, ignoring the flush spreading across his face, and seizes the sheet. Pulls it up, wrapping it around himself, hiding the new skin, new curves, new sensations under comfortingly cool cloth.
"Wait," says Angilo, and he reaches out, stopping just short of Rayne's shoulder. Goosebumps spread across Rayne's skin, where Angilo hasn't - quite - touched yet -- And Angilo doesn't even touch there, but moves down, hooking his fingers under the sheet.
Rayne shivers, wishing he could make a protest, but he seems to have gone curiously silent. He doesn't want to speak, whether from humiliation or humiliated arousal.
Angilo draws the sheet aside, bit by bit, fingers close - so close - but still not quite touching Rayne's skin. Maybe he's still in shock too. Maybe he doesn't really know how to cope --
Angilo takes a breath, about to speak.
Rayne flinches back, away from him. Just a few inches. He's uncomfortable, uncomfortably vulnerable. He doesn't want even Angilo to see him like this, in the few awkward moments after transformation.
"Derek," and Angilo's tone is low, soothing. "Are you okay?"
"Well this is pretty fucked up," says Rayne, "so I'm a little--" And his breath stops. Just stops.
Angilo's palm is flat on the curve of his waist. Gentle, and he moves, skimming up Rayne's ribs. Angilo's eyes are wide, his touch not as firm as it should be, but he's touching all the same.
"David," says Rayne, weakly.
“Can I touch you?” asks Angilo. “Is that okay?” but he’s not letting go. Not breaking contact. Hand moves up Rayne’s side, fingers curving around to his back, and Angilo stops, waits.
Rayne nods, not really trusting himself to speak.
And Angilo’s hand moves to cup his breast, palm rolling against his nipple. The touch seems almost reverent - and Rayne’s expecting a stab of sensation, arousal, because this is an erogenous zone, isn’t it? But instead he just feels all too conscious of his new body. Trembling with it.
“You’re just as beautiful like this,” says Angilo. “Good god, look at you…”
Rayne swallows. “You’re dealing with this very well.” And it wasn’t really a compliment, more of an indication that Rayne isn’t dealing with this very well.
Angilo’s hand drops. “Sorry,” he says, and Rayne shivers, again, cold from the room. It’s an exercise room, he’s Martian, he keeps it cold, that makes sense. He just - he was just in here to figure things out. That’s all.
He moves to go past Angilo -
“Here,” says Angilo, and he drapes the sheet around Rayne’s shoulders. Covering him up. Using the excuse of the motion to draw Rayne closer.
Rayne is a little irritated to find that he’s even slighter, as opposed to Angilo’s form, than he used to be.
He shrugs the sheet closer around his shoulders.
An arm circles his waist from behind. Warm presence against his back, and he can feel - well. Rayne isn’t the only one feeling the pull of sexual arousal.
“I love you, you know that?” Angilo asks, softly.
Rayne nods. He knows.
“It’s shocking, I get it,” says Angilo, “but it doesn’t have to be all bad, right?”
Rayne already knows what he’s going to ask. Has to stop himself from saying yes, preemptively.
“We can figure this out.”
He doesn’t want to hear it. Doesn’t want to hear what Angilo would ask to do to him. Details, that’s all that is, and he doesn’t know what he wants. Or what feels the best. It’s all new.
Shit, shit, and is he going to trust Angilo with finding all this out? With a body he doesn’t even know?
"Yeah," he says.