Title: The Thing with Feathers
Author: HYPERFocused
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: R
A/N: For svmadelyn’s 13 challenge.



They came home from the mission with a promising new ally, and a supply of what was almost popcorn. Dr Weir gave them the next two days off, which John and Rodney planned to put to good use.

The sex was amazing. It was always good, but this felt magical. Rodney fell asleep like he usually did. Chest to John’s back, face pressed in to his still slightly sweaty shoulder. His right arm was secure around John’s chest, the left underneath them. The perfect position to grab his nearby data pad if an important thought grabbed him in the middle of the night, though honestly, in this mood? It was more likely to be "Rodney want more," his inner sex fiend being both demanding and ungrammatical.

He woke up like usual as well: too hot, horny again, but needing to pee like a bitch, and with feathers in his mouth. Wait a minute-- feathers in his mouth? What the hell? He didn’t even have down filled pillows -- he’d made sure of that when requisitioning bedding. He was going to need a lot of caffeine to make sense of this one.


All thoughts of morning erections, whatever the cause, left him as he processed that. He spit the nasty things out, bits of lavender, light blue and pale green littering the space where John had been sleeping next to him. He was nowhere to be seen now, but Rodney could hear the shower running, and John’s mumbling. He couldn’t hear what John was saying, but the tone was clearly distressed.

Walking in and taking care of his own pressing business first -- Atlantis’s bathrooms were far enough advanced that one could flush without affecting the hot water output -- he talked through the opaque shower door at John before opening it and climbing in.

"Are you all right? Did you get a new pillow or something? You know I’m allergic --" Rodney stopped short as he opened the door. "Tell me I’m not seeing what I think I’m seeing." Something -- a pair of somethings -- fluttered behind John, angelic and strong looking, edged with wisps of iridescent pastel. Rodney couldn’t believe they were real. Except that this was Atlantis, and anything was possible.

"You can see them, too? Damn. I was hoping I was still dreaming. Hallucinating, maybe." John’s shoulders slumped, making the new additions to his anatomy shimmy like the wind rushing through a field of grain.

Rodney sneezed in reaction. He could just feel his eyes water and nose redden.

"Yes, of course I can see them. You have wings. Great big pastel-colored teenage-girl-drawing wings. To which I am allergic."

"You would make it all about you, Rodney. ’John barked a slightly hysterical laugh, which made his wings wave wildly. "I think the important point here is that I went to bed human, and I woke up -- this way."

It was way too early for this shit, Rodney thought. "I wish I had something to drink."

The next thing Rodney knew, he had a corrugated cardboard wrapped cup in one hand, and a Dewars on the rocks in the other, complete with a paper napkin from a bar in Boston he hadn’t been in since grad school.

"Well," Rodney said, after taking a healthy gulp of the liquor, and setting the coffee down for John, who had best stay sober considering the circumstances. "I guess we know what happened to you." He was oddly calm about it.

"I grew wings?" John gave them an experimental wave.

"Obviously. No, you woke up fairy."

"What in the world are you talking about?"

"It’s an internet phenomenon, one I’d always assumed was fictional."

"You mean like ‘waking up gay’?"

"Yes, exactly." Though in their case…

John read his look. "I always knew, Rodney. I just never felt like it was worth exploring until I met you."

"And aren’t I lucky."

"I’d like to think we both are." John grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist, walking back into their living area. "This feels very weird."

"Can I touch them?" Rodney gingerly ran his finger down the edge of a wing, then let out another sneeze. He didn’t care. It was just too cool not to touch. John shivered, and Rodney could see his erection distorting the line of the towel.

"That feels really good. I wish you weren’t allergic to feathers." John looked expectantly at him. "Okay, try it again."

Rodney did, and sneezed again. "I wish I wasn't allergic, too." Suddenly he felt a lot better. "Hmm, I have a theory. Wish for something else." He waited, but as he had surmised, nothing happened.

"I can’t make my own wishes?"

"Nope. That’s generally the way these things work. Let me try another one." A large, cylindrical, foil wrapped package plopped onto the bed.

John unwrapped a bit of it. "A chocolate dildo? Rodney, you sick puppy!"

"I can’t help it. It was the first thing that came to mind. I guess I can‘t decide if I‘m hungry or horny."

"That still doesn’t explain why it only works for you."

"Actually, I’m hoping it only works for me. Can you imagine if everyone on Atlantis could get their wishes granted?" What little time they had to be alone together would be gone. That simply wouldn’t do. Rodney was much too selfish to share. "We’re going to have to go tell Carson, get you checked out."

"Can’t it wait?" John was petulant. "I’m having a hard enough time dealing with this as it is. I’m not ready to be dissected yet."

"You aren’t in pain, are you?"

"Not really. It just feels weird. Like I have new muscles."

"I do wish we could keep this to ourselves a little while." He hoped that would do the trick. "Besides, I’d like to try a little experimenting on my own." He kissed John, reaching down to grip his cock and stroke it with the slow, steady pace that drove John craziest.

As John’s arousal grew, Rodney felt his wings wrap around him, and a moment later they were rising in the air, a few feet above the bed.
John gasped and came, spattering what looked a lot like glitter-glue.

"Well, that answers the flying question."

"Yeah. I tried, but I never could get into the air."

"You’re a very limited sort of fairy, aren’t you?" Rodney didn’t think he could make any serious changes, like say eliminate the Wraith threat, or find them a thousand ZPMs.

"I don’t want to be a fairy at all." John complained.

"Maybe it’ll go away. But I hope not."

"The flying is cool, isn’t it?"

"You know this means we’ll have to have a lot of sex."

"I can go with that." John floated them gently down to the bed. Pretty soon, wish or no wish, Rodney knew they were going to have to show everyone what had happened. Heck, for all he knew other people had gone through some kind of change, too.

But for now, John was his fairy, and his alone. And when he looked at John’s beautiful, flushed face, he was glad that he hadn’t woke up Basilisk.