A/N - Have fun with this one, y'all.

Twenty

Feeling very shy but not wanting to make a big deal about it, Kate turned away from J'onn immediately and snaked her hand into the shower to turn the knob for the hot water. Then, still faced away, she began to shakily undress, not sure if she was shaking from the prospect of standing in a shower or because J'onn was about to see her naked for the first time.

"I can look elsewhere," he said helpfully. "Or keep my eyes closed."

She laughed a little, feeling ridiculous. "I want you to look at me. I just… this isn't going to be sexy. I'm probably gonna cry halfway through the shower."

"I know," he said, his voice very serious. "I am only going in there with you to keep you steady. This isn't…" He took a breath. "I would never take advantage—"

"I know," she said, turning toward him. "I'm just sorry that this is how… you have to see me naked for the first time."

"Do not be sorry," he said, lifting her chin with a finger. "I am not sorry."

Smiling—maybe grimacing—she pulled off the rest of her clothes, face heated, and piled them beside the door, standing naked before him.

He kept his eyes calmly on her face, then looked away and put his hand under the water to check the temperature. "I think it's warm enough now," he murmured, adjusting the knob.

She didn't know how to feel about his utter non-reaction and tried very hard to feel nothing at all. Of course he wouldn't react. He was only here as moral support in case she flipped out mid-shower. They'd just talked about this.

Your body arouses and intrigues me, he said quietly into her mind. But I am ignoring these feelings for now because I want you to feel calm and safe.

She smiled at the floor for a moment, heart skipping a beat, then remembered she had to get into the shower, and the smile fell from her face.

"I'm right here," he said. "Focus on me."

She remembered all the times he'd said that before, the first time he'd ever said it, when she'd had to get into the Batwing. The night she'd rescued him seemed so far away now, and she seemed so different now. She didn't know where all that courage had gone, the courage she'd somehow found that had made her drive three hours to a military base to save a being she'd never met.

You are still courageous, he said. You are courageous every day. Someone with no courage would not have gone to another planet to try and save John Stewart from a sham of a trial, would not have plumbed the depths of the ocean to try and save a king from a plot to overthrow him.

Yes, she thought, and look where all that courage got me. Now I'm even more traumatized than I was and have nothing to show for it.

Look at yourself, he argued. Look at your muscles, feel the strength in your body that wasn't there before.

They were wasting water. She sighed and stepped into the shower, holding his hand to keep from slipping. He joined her a second later, becoming intangible to slip through the curtain even as she moved it back in place. The second the water began to drum down onto her head, she flinched and tried to step out of the water, running straight into J'onn, who had just gone solid again.

He wrapped both arms around her as she gasped for air, hating the feel of the water on her skin, over her head, running down into her eyes, over her mouth. Quickly, he turned them both so that now he was under the water and she was mostly out of it, his body blocking it from touching her.

She stood and breathed, heart pounding, face pressed to his chest, trying to ignore the trickle of water droplets running down her head. She wanted to throw up.

"I am terrified of fire," J'onn said suddenly.

Kate was so surprised she pulled back to look at him. "What?"

He gave her a tight smile. "All Martians… we have pyrophobia. It's passed down genetically."

She stared at him. "Why?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. No one does. It's… It had been passed down in our species for… as long as anyone could remember." Once more, he'd caught himself speaking of his people as if they still lived, and had to correct himself.

Kate lay her head on his chest again, trembling, though she couldn't tell from what. "How do you deal with it?"

"I haven't needed to in a very long time, but… mostly, I panic."

Kate laughed, more out of surprise than anything else. Immediately, she cut herself off. "Sorry. I just… I can't imagine you panicking about… anything."

"I am not as stoic as I've led you to believe," he said. "I've had to work hard to reach this point."

"I remember. You had to meditate for years after the war on Mars. You told me."

"Yes."

"You're trying to make me feel better about panicking over a shower."

"Is it working?" he asked.

She laughed again. "It's distracting, at least. Remind me never to light candles around you." She pulled away to look at him again. "But… the stove. You seem fine around that?"

"It's electric," he explained. "It has no flame."

"Right," she said, nodding. Taking a deep breath, she reached around his body and stuck her arm in the water, then flinched, then pressed her forehead to his chest and closed her eyes, leaving her arm in the drumming of the shower. It was warm, not like the drowning chamber in Atlantis; that water had been cold—freezing salt water piped in from the ocean surrounding the city. This was warm, clean, fresh water. She tried to remind herself that she liked showers, that they were calming and refreshing, that it would be extremely difficult to drown herself in one unless she purposefully stood under the spray with her mouth open for several long minutes, snorting the water up her nose.

J'onn snorted a laugh at that image, then immediately stopped, feeling remorseful.

What are you doing? she asked. Practicing your drowning technique?

They both burst out laughing.

She took a moment to look at him, curious as to what form he'd chosen to take. He stood in his superhero form, minus the clothing. No cape, no shiny yellow buttons, no red harness. Blushing, she peeked down below, wondering… His speedo was also gone, yet he remained smooth as a doll. She pouted a little, though she wasn't sure what she'd been expecting. Martians did not have genitals.

Not yet, he said, his voice trailing across her mind like teasing fingertips. Soon.

Her eyes trailed back up his body, noting the muscles in his chest, eventually landing on his face. There were those eyes, deep orange and hypnotic. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized they stood naked in a shower, pressed together.

He closed his eyes. You should focus on getting yourself clean, or at least getting used to the water.

She put a hand on his chest and he lay one of his own atop hers and squeezed, his eyes flicking open to stare down at her. She took a breath, then gently pushed him backwards in the small space. He allowed her to, taking one, two steps back, which was as far as he could go. She followed him, until they both stood under the spray of the water.

It hit her face, her head, the rest of her body. She stood and breathed through her mouth, shaking, feeling it pour over her. Her body became tenser and tenser the longer she stood there, as memories of the drowning chamber filled her mind, then the Imperium, J'onn's screams as he was tortured. Her own screams.

"Focus on me," J'onn said.

She opened her eyes, staring at his chest in front of her, keeping her head down so the water wouldn't get into her eyes or nose. She stared at her hand held in his, studied the difference in the coloration of their skin. Watched the water trail down his chest. Emotions and memories warred in her head, one half of her still traumatized, terrified, the other half hot and aching.

Her hand, still pressed to J'onn's chest, tingled and buzzed as his body vibrated. Just once, short and sudden. Then he grunted and she felt his effort to quell his own arousal.

"No," she whispered.

He said nothing, but she sensed his head tilt, felt his mind touch hers curiously.

Stop trying to be nice because I'm traumatized. You always tell me to focus on you when I'm scared or upset. I am focusing on you. She dug her fingers into the skin of his chest. Make me focus harder. Distract me. You're not taking advantage of me if I want it.

She felt some emotion of his sweep over her, through her, something deep and nearly forgotten. He vibrated again, but this time he did not stop.

"Wait," she said quickly, "if you do that too much, won't you split apart?"

"Yes," he said, his voice a deep growl she'd never heard before. "But I can control it… enough."

"I don't mind it," she said, trying to explain. "I just… can't have sex with you if you, you know, fall apart. I don't have the same… equipment."

"I understand." He reached behind her and pulled the bottle of body wash down from the caddy and squeezed some into his hand. Then he placed the bottle back on the shelf and lathered the soap in his hands. "May I… touch you?"

She released a shaky breath. "God, yes." A wave of warm, aroused pleasure washed over her at those words. She closed her eyes as the strength of his lust hit her, feeling a little dizzy.

He started at her shoulders, squeezing, massaging, lathering the body wash into her skin. Then he trailed down her arms to her hands and fingers, squeezing each one and pulling, digging his thumbs into her palms, vibrating all the while, which only made everything feel better.

Despite her own arousal, the pounding of her heart, she found herself relaxing under his touch, eyes fluttering closed, head bowing. She felt him reach for something else, heard him squeeze more soap into his hand, lather it. Then his fingers were in her hair, scrubbing, massaging, pressing into her scalp, then the back of her neck. She groaned in pleasure.

Another wave of lust hit her at that groan, a strong wordless desire trailing along behind it that felt something like, Never stop making that sound.

She laughed a little, head still bowed, eyes still closed. Her body felt deliciously light and heavy at the same time, several parts tingling from his vibrations.

Now comes the frightening part, he said.

She opened her eyes, confused.

We have to rinse the shampoo from your hair.

She went stiff as a board, forgetting her arousal, her teeth clenching.

Do you trust me? he asked her.

She nodded jerkily.

"We're going to switch places," he said aloud. "So that you will be hit with the brunt of the water. I'll be right here. Nothing bad will happen to you."

She let him maneuver her in the shower until she stood under the water and he stood outside of it, too far to be touched by it. She gasped for air immediately, feeling it pelt her skin, overly-sensitive from the vibrations in his hands. Her mind went, Nonononono.

"Hold on," he said, his voice firm. "Listen to my voice. Tilt your head back—just a little. That's it. Good. The shampoo is almost gone. You're doing very well."

She was crying now, trying not to remember the sting of saltwater up her nose, down her throat, the way her whole body had screamed for air, the way the Imperium's tentacles had broken through skin and muscle, tearing up her arms, up her shoulders into her neck—

The water shut off.

She seemed to tumble through space for a moment, so dizzy she couldn't tell up from down, then teetered forward and fell against him.

J'onn caught her and held her there for a long time as she stood and seemed to spin in place, her chest heaving for breath. Some time later, though she did not remember getting there, she found herself lying in bed, her head on his chest, the blanket up around them. It took a while even then for her to remember how to speak.

I'm sorry, she thought, feeling strangely far away, as if she were looking down at herself from a great height.

No, he said.

I ruined it.

You ruined nothing. Hush.

She fell silent for a long time, and her body eventually began to feel normal again, as if she were actually inhabiting it like she was supposed to. She felt heavier, and so tired. It was nice… before…

Yes, he said. It was nice.

Her eyes were drifting closed of their own accord. She tried to keep them open, tried to find the part of herself that had been so aroused earlier.

Sleep, he said.

I don't want to sleep. I don't want to have nightmares.

If you have them, I'll be right here.

She slept. She did not have nightmares. At least, not this time.

When she awoke, some hours later, she was disoriented for a time, stuck in some memory despite her lack of nightmares, as if she hadn't fully gone to sleep. When she came completely awake, she realized that J'onn was humming. He was humming and watching her from the other side of the bed. At some point, she must have rolled off of him in her sleep. She sat up, worrying about wet hair on her pillow and saw that he'd laid down a towel there for her. Her shoulders slumped and she smiled at him.

He smiled back, though his eyes were sad.

She touched his face. "Pitying me again?" she asked softly.

"No," he said, kissing her palm. "I was…" He looked away from her. "Thinking of M'yri'ah. My daughters."

That would explain the humming. Some part of Kate deflated at his words. She looked away also, unsure of what to do now. Nothing she said could help him feel better about the loss of his first family, and she never wanted him to think that she hoped to replace them.

"I don't think that," he said. "I have never thought that."

She gave him a quick smile, though it didn't reach her eyes.

"Now who is pitying whom?" he asked, and some life returned to his face.

She laughed a little. "We're hopeless."

"I used to think I was," he said. "I don't anymore."

She looked at him.

"I never thought you were," he said.

Her heart skipped a beat just then. She tried to quell the feeling rising inside her as she stared at him lying in her bed, did not want to tarnish the memory of his family—

"Katie," he murmured, his voice low.

Her eyes snapped to his face again, mouth opening slightly. He had never called her that before. The way it sounded, the way his mouth shaped that fond nickname, did things to her.

He stared at her, chin dipping toward his chest, eyes glittering.

She fell atop him, pressing her mouth to his, her tongue touching his own, then pulling away in case he did not want that. He shoved his tongue into her mouth, pulling her up on top of himself further, ran his hands down her back, hesitating at her ass. She wiggled invitingly, moaning into his mouth. He groaned and cupped her ass in both hands, squeezing.

In a faraway corner of her mind, she thought, Are you… I mean… Do you even enjoy this? This isn't normal for you. This kind of sex, this touching.

I haven't had sex in hundreds of years, he replied. Nothing is normal for me. I will learn a new normal. I want to touch you.

She pulled away from his kiss at those last words and breathed, "I want you to touch me."

"Where?" he growled. "How?" His body had begun to vibrate again, lowly at first, and then stronger.

Something clicked in her mind and she stared at him for a moment, slack-jawed.

He pulled back, that vibration stuttering. "What? Is something wrong?"

"No," she said, laughing. "I'm just an idiot."

His brows drew together, wrinkling.

She scrambled off of him and lay down, heart pounding, face heated. She took his hand and pulled it toward her slowly. He moved in the bed, laying on his side facing her, propping his head up on his other hand, letting her guide him. She pulled his hand down, down, until it hovered there between her legs. Then she looked at him, breathing shakily, eyes half-lidded, a begging question in her mind.

His own eyes smoldered, nostrils flaring as he breathed, and he closed the distance between her body and his hand, rubbing her gently.

The feel of his fingers, his whole hand—his whole body—vibrating, made every hair on her own body stand on end. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, her head dropped to the pillow, and she moaned.

His hand stopped moving for a moment, as if surprised, and then he made some noise in the back of his throat, like a growl, and redoubled his efforts, rubbing harder, faster, the vibrations stronger. His fingers flicked across her clitoris, back and forth, back and forth. He knew enough about human anatomy to understand, roughly, what to do. Had read so many romance books that hundreds of sex scenes flashed in his mind. He was not so naïve as to think that those books were realistic, even if she hadn't warned him of that early on, but they all had certain things in common. Those scenes, combined with all the real sex books he'd read late at night while she'd been asleep, seemed to be proving their worth right now, under his hand.

That, and he could read her mind, her every desire, every fantasy laid bare before him. He had never looked before, never would have violated her privacy like that. He'd seen only glimpses and had never tried to hold onto those thoughts as she buried them, not unless she wanted him to see. But now he saw each and every one, scattered across her mind as she squirmed beneath his hand, her fingers curled in the sheets. He tried to capture them all, to catalog each one, to engrave them to his memory. He would give her everything she desired, would fulfill every fantasy, even if it took years.

Her eyes snapped open and she stared at J'onn, panting, moaning, wanting to close her legs around his hand and buck. "J'onn… please…"

He stopped flicking his fingers back and forth and instead pressed the heel of his hand into her clit, holding it there, body still vibrating like the best toy she'd ever had. She cried out at the added pressure, exactly what she'd wanted, and now she pressed both her hands down on top of his as if to anchor herself and ground her pussy against his hand. "Fuck!"

J'onn growled low in his throat. "I love it when you use obscenities."

She would've laughed at his wording if she weren't so close. Instead, all she could do was pant and stare at him, grinding against his hand. "J'onn… I'm gonna…"

"Yes," he said, and pressed his forehead to hers. "Oh, yes."

His sudden closeness only spurred her on. She gasped, closing her eyes, feeling him there, hearing him breathe almost as harshly as she was. Then she was gone, her core exploding with pleasure. She gasped and moaned and shuddered beneath him, fingernails digging into his hand, though he did not seem to care. "Fuck… fuck… fuck!"

It was wonderful—until she realized he was still pressed hard to her clit, still vibrating, even as she came down from the high. "J-J'onn!"

He yanked his hand away, realizing what had happened. "Sorry."

"No," she said, smiling tiredly at him. "That was…" She trailed off, staring at him, realizing he was still just as aroused as he had been a moment before, his whole body blurring in vibration, the bed humming with it. "Oh…"

He closed his eyes, brows drawn in careful concentration as he tried to calm himself down. "Just… give me a moment."

"What? No!" She sat up, flushed from her orgasm. "Tell me what to do!"

He looked at her, blinking quickly in surprise.

"J'onn," she said, smiling indulgently, laying a hand on his arm. "Let me reciprocate somehow. I want to."

He leaned toward her and pressed his mouth to hers. She returned his kiss eagerly, scooching closer to him, putting a hand on the back of his head, wishing for one nanosecond that he had hair she could curl her fingers into. Do not grow hair, she immediately told him. I think I'd scream.

He chuckled into her kiss, then pulled away and glanced down at himself, flicking his eyes back to hers, then down again, encouraging her to follow his gaze.

She did, and gasped quietly, her eyes glazing over. "Oh…"

He lay slowly on his back, allowing her full access to his newest shapeshifted form, everything the same, but for one organ. "Is it… Does it look…?"

She felt his strange new shyness, his hesitation, and looked up from that beautiful cock he had made just for her and smiled at him, touching his face. "It looks perfect," she said, voice dripping with desire.

He warmed with pleasure at her words, at the look on her face, and his brand-new penis twitched and throbbed in excitement. He shifted on the bed, trying to get used to the sensation. He'd changed just enough of his DNA to prevent his body from vibrating with arousal, and instead, all of that energy went to this strange organ between his legs. Still… even for all its newness, it felt… good.

"Um," she said.

He cringed internally, wondering what he'd forgotten.

"You don't—have any testicles."

Ah. "I didn't think they were necessary," he explained, "given their function. I… didn't think you wanted to… get pregnant."

"Oh!" she said. "No!"

He nodded, smiling, amused by her vehemence.

She stared at him. "Can you do that? Get me pregnant?"

"Yes, although the child would be so close to human that any Martian DNA would be… indiscernible. Negligible. Essentially, I could only impregnate you by shapeshifting into something compatible with your species—a human, or something close enough to one. Probably, right now, even with testicles, I could not impregnate you. The rest of me is still too Martian."

He felt her mind shift for a moment into J'onn is a Fascinating Enigma and I Must Ask Him a Thousand Questions Mode, but she slipped out of it again a second later. Instead of peppering him for details about DNA and impregnation and human-Martian hybrid children, questions which he would have readily answered even mid-coitis if she'd wanted him to, she said, "But… I…" And then her mouth clamped shut.

He had miscalculated something. She wanted him to have testicles, but not to give her a child, clearly. Curiously, gently, he reached a tendril into her mind, asking to be let into that shy space wherein she kept every naughty thought about him. What do you wish of me? he asked her, his own mind running through dozens of fantasies he had seen earlier, trying to recall something that would make this moment clearer.

It came to him as images, even as she sat and blushed scarlet as he saw them: her body covered in thick, warm, white ropes of… Oh. He breathed through that thought and it came out as a growl. Instead of vibrating in arousal, however, he merely throbbed and twitched between his legs. Her flash of surprised lust smacking him in the face told him that she had seen, and it pleased her. He turned that part of his brain off for just a moment, enough to concentrate, to create a pair of testicles just for her, and he could not help the tiny smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth as her surprise and lust only grew. He opened his eyes to see her staring down at his crotch, practically drooling.

"You like them," he said, and it wasn't a question this time.

Her eyes flicked up to look at him, her face still flushed—beautiful.

"They are fully capable of producing semen," he said, "but not sperm. I am sterile in this form, but I can pleasure you however you wish."

She blinked at him several times in quick succession, mouth opening slightly, surprised by his words.

He smiled in amusement. "It has been a long time for me, but I am not inexperienced. Well." He hesitated. "I am with this kind of sex, but not sex in general. You… you need only guide me. I will do whatever you wish."

She said nothing for a moment, instead reaching down for him, to touch him there between his legs. His own pleasure at the feel of her hand was doubled as he felt everything twice over, feeling her hand wrapped around him, and also feeling himself through her hand, as if he were her. He could tell he'd gotten the skin texture correct, smooth as velvet, especially on the head.

"What about what you want?" she whispered, stroking him slowly, driving him to madness.

He breathed slowly, trying to maintain a level head to allow for conversation. "My desires are yours. I enjoy… pleasuring my partners."

"So do I," she murmured.

He stared at her, breathing, feeling as if he was being tortured with pleasure, this sensation entirely new to him.

Then she bent down over his crotch and—

He could not hold back the cry of pleasure that tore from his lips as her own slid down over his cock. He felt torn asunder in the best way possible, felt so sensitive. Her mouth was deliciously warm, her tongue so wet as she bobbed her head up and down, up and down. The small part of him that he'd made human enough to enjoy this wanted to bury his fingers into her hair, trap her head between his hands and thrust up into her mouth. Instead, he fisted the sheets, little moans escaping him every few seconds. He was at her mercy now and he enjoyed being here, enjoyed existing for her pleasure, even if her pleasure was to please him.

She moaned as she sucked him and he clung to that noise, feeling it hum through his skin, across his mind. He realized she was moaning because he was. She wanted to hear every noise, every breath, feel every squirming shiver underneath her. She wanted him to enjoy this with abandon, just as he had wanted that for her. He should have used his mouth, he thought angrily, before he lost himself entirely. He would have to remedy that immediately. Then, all coherent thought slipped from his head.

Watching, feeling J'onn come undone beneath her made Kate feel… incredible. This man, usually so stoic, was grunting and groaning and thrashing beneath her like a wild creature, and it turned her on so much that she ached. She had not expected this at all, and now that it was happening, she couldn't stop. She took him as deeply as she could, fondling his balls, occasionally releasing his cock from her mouth just to lick a stripe from the base to the tip. She gasped and moaned almost as much as he did, excited by his pleasure, and made her sucking sounds as obscene as she could. It had been so long since she'd done this, and she didn't think she'd been in love with anyone she'd ever done this to before. It made her feel… powerful, knowing she could reduce J'onn to this whimpering mess, so different from his usual self.

She did not know how long it took—not long at all, surely—before…

"K-Katie…"

God, that name. She moaned onto his cock again, bobbing her head quickly.

His hand shot out and stilled her head. "Katie, I… I'm—"

I know, she said into his mind, and continued to bob her head.

He lifted his own head from the pillow to stare down at her, right on the precipice of orgasm, eyes wide and wild and clearly trying to ensure that she wanted this, thinking of water and drowning and—

She stared up at him, never releasing his cock from her mouth. I want to drink it, she said.

His heart seemed to stop in his chest for one moment, then he was releasing into her mouth before he knew what was happening, his head falling back onto the pillow, hands clutching the sides of her head. She moaned eagerly, continuing to bob her head, though slowly, and the sensation drove him to insanity.

He forgot where he was, his head buzzing pleasantly, a ringing in his ears. He opened his eyes after what could have been a hundred years and glanced down at her. She slowly pulled her mouth off of him, keeping her lips firmly closed. Then she stared at him… and swallowed.

His eyes widened, his nostrils flared, and he sat bolt upright in the bed, softening cock going rock-hard again. This was the good part about not being human. Human males had refractory periods after orgasm. He was not bound by such things.

She looked at him in surprise, rising to her knees. "J'onn—"

He kissed her, open-mouthed, darting his tongue along her lower lip in question, and when she opened her mouth in return he tasted himself on her tongue, a bitter, salty tang that could not possibly taste good, and yet she had swallowed it all and had seemed to enjoy it. He must remedy that, as well, make himself taste like something pleasant. Anything she wanted.

I like how you taste, she argued.

Even so, he replied.

She laughed against his kiss. Fine. Pick another flavor, then.

I will think on it, he told her, and then lay her down on the bed and kissed her thighs and buried his tongue inside her.