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It came as a surprise when John came out to his family. No longer “deadname”, no longer “she”.
Just John.
And, well, what other reaction could he have expected? It was a big shock for his parents when he, at the ripe age of 18, announced to them that he was a boy. Young and stupid, really. But despite his struggles, this was the one thing he was sure of. No matter what people told him, no matter how long his mother went on ignoring him. He stood by his decision.
If you asked his parents, they would've said they never saw it coming. Their lovely, smart daughter, who just so happened to have short hair and wear boys’ clothes, the one who always complained about hating her name, hating her body. How could she possibly be a man?
And yet.
It took them a while to come around to the idea of having a son. They still weren't perfect, even as he turned 37. Still slipped up and misgendered him. Still accidentally called him by his deadname when speaking with relatives he hadn't seen in ages. But they still loved him. And that was all that mattered.
It didn't matter that he clenched his jaw any time his deadname was mentioned. It didn't matter how he wanted to disappear whenever referred to as “she”. He just… had to deal with it. After all, there were bigger problems out there. Besides, he had people on his side. He had friends and colleagues who didn't care about such trivial things as gender. He finally had someone who loved him unconditionally, no matter what his body looked like.
That was why waking up next to Nikolai felt so surreal, even after years of dating him.
Usually, John was the last one to wake up on their days off. Yet somehow, today he woke up first. Just as the sun started rising, as it peeked in through the curtains, John's eyes fluttered open. The first thing that registered in his sleep-addled brain was the solid warmth against his back. The heavy weight of a sleeping Nikolai kept him grounded, and quite literally unable to move further than a few inches.
In those still-fuzzy moments of waking up, a wave of fondness washed over him. Who would've thought; a military Captain and a Russian helicopter pilot, cuddled up together in a bed peacefully. Or at least, as peacefully as they could.
It was always at times like this that John's thoughts started racing. Memory after memory, experience after experience, there wasn't much for him to do other than lie there and let them come and go.
It probably came as even more of a surprise when John announced to his family that he wanted to join the military. His mom nearly came down with a heart attack. His dad called him foolish for wanting that. After all, the military would never allow “his kind” in. Ouch, dad. He knew his parents were just worried in their own ways, but there was nothing that would stop him from trying. And look where that got him.
Being a Captain came with responsibility. And said responsibility was almost too much to bear sometimes. Barking out orders, making sure that nobody dies while carrying out their missions perfectly… It was no small task. He made many mistakes throughout his career. Mistakes that led to many deaths. With each new enemy they made and took down, another thing went to shit. Shepherd's betrayal still stung deep when he thought about it. Nowadays he barely knew who he could still trust.
And yet, there were still people out there who'd follow him straight into fire no questions asked. If he dwelled on it for too long, he felt guilty about it. For soldiers to put their lives into his hands, while he was barely managing to keep it all together? They either had to be mad, or John had to be damn good at manipulation. He never really knew which it was anyway.
What was probably more difficult than being a Captain of a Task Force, was being a trans Captain. He pulled at all of the strings he could when he got in, and ever since his promotion to Captain, nobody dared even look at him wrong for it.
The same couldn't be said about his rookie days.
Back then, he was still figuring out the whole shtick: how to walk like a man, how to talk like a man, how to be the man he was always supposed to be. There was a bunch of legal work to be done as well, with getting registered under the right name, making sure all of his documents were addressing him correctly, and all of the boring stuff. It all would've been fine, if not for the other rookies from boot camp who knew his deadname. They knew he was trans; he wasn't the most masculine-looking at the start. His voice was high-pitched, and he didn't have the money for a proper binder, so his physique gave him away. Damn his genes for giving him D's.
Nikolai shifted behind him once more, pulling him in closer. One of those big, rough hands splayed out on his sternum, holding him in place as its owner sighed deeply in his sleep. John cast a glance down at his bare torso, the D's staring back at him silently. A fresh wave of disgust and guilt washed over him. Fuck, the love-hate relationship with them was exhausting at times.
Other than his physique giving him away, some assholes got a hold of one of his documents. He had no idea how or why, but it resulted in… weird atmosphere, to say the least. Nobody said anything to his face; he was called John, and everybody was at least halfway civil with him. Behind his back, though, he heard his deadname whispered in the corners of the base. He always walked on with a straight face, never letting the comments get to him.
Except they did. They got to him and lodged deep inside the gash in his heart that had formed there years ago.
With time, things got easier. Hormone therapy, proper binders, and trans tape, all made John feel more like himself. He grew out his ridiculous beard, trying out a few styles before settling on the mutton chops. He never let his hair grow any longer than a few centimeters, and he made sure to train hard to gain muscle. For the first time in his life, he started to feel confident.
And then he met Nik. Nikolai, the former Russian soldier who turned his whole world upside down. At first, they were simply friends. They worked efficiently together and were an almost terrifying duo. If John called, Nikolai came, no questions asked. And then came the glances. Eyes catching each other from across the room, filled with emotions neither man could properly name yet. The quiet yearning filled them, pushing to make a move, and yet something always seemed to stop them. It was against the rules. They didn't have enough time during each deployment. Every time it seemed like they were gonna cross that line, something got in the way.
Until the one fateful day, when John took the matter into his own hands. Sitting outside the hangar in which Nikolai's helicopter resided, the two of them shared a smoke as John awkwardly confessed his feelings. He was never good at this kind of stuff. To his surprise, he managed to get through it without stuttering like an idiot. To his even bigger surprise, Nikolai requited his feelings.
That memory brought a small smile to John's face. As they lay among the crinkled sheets, the rays of the sun cast a warm, golden glow over the two of them. Almost fondly, John ran his fingers down the length of Nikolai's arm as it tightened its hold on him just a bit. Seeing how similar they really were, the calloused hands and rough skin, dark hair growing on their forearms? It made John's heart flutter just a bit.
It took some courage for John to tell Nikolai about his identity. For as long as they had known each other, John had been living in stealth. He was careful in all aspects of the word; never letting Nikolai see the binders or tape, never getting naked around him, and always changing any stories from his youth just enough to not seem suspicious. But when they finally admitted to their feelings for each other, John saw no other way out other than to tell Nikolai straight up.
The conversation went well. As expected, really. Nikolai wasn't the most knowledgeable on gender identity and its nuances, but he saw John as a man. Nothing else. That was really all that mattered.
Then came the topic of sex and intimacy. As the two of them got more comfortable with touching each other, brief squeezes here and there, maybe letting their knees bump together as they sat next to each other, John knew they'd eventually talk about sex. It wasn't that he didn't want it. Hell, he would do anything for Nikolai if the man asked. But sex? It was an uncharted territory.
John was no stranger to his own body. He didn't hate it, per se. He just wished it looked different. He knew what felt good and what didn't, and that was enough for now. John had also had a partner or two before, way back before his transition really began. The thought of it always made him grimace. Not because it was bad. At least not really. But more because it had been obvious that he wasn't happy in those relationships. Actually, he had been in pretty hard denial about being trans when he was young. That resulted in him trying to feminize himself, in the hopes that the weird, unknown feelings would go away.
It also meant doing stuff he probably shouldn't have done at that age. Nowadays, he didn't cringe as much when he thought about it. He just wished that he had been smarter then. That he didn't offer his body up in search of approval. It only served to skew his understanding of sex in the long run.
The conversation with Nikolai went… surprisingly okay. It was mostly establishing lines and boundaries that weren't to be crossed. John at least didn't want his chest to be touched. It was offending him enough by being there, he didn't need to add more to that feeling by letting someone touch him there. Even if it was Nikolai.
Nikolai was as understanding about it as he could be. He didn't protest when John declared parts of his body as off-limits. And yet, it wasn't enough to calm that part of John's brain that kept throwing the worst-case scenarios at him. What if the other man decided that he wasn't into trans men after all? What if he wanted more than John could give? What if, what if?
To put it bluntly, John was mildly scared.
Despite his worries, though, their first time went by smoothly. And the time after that. The third time they had to stop because of a wave of dysphoria that hit John in the middle of the act, and after the fourth time, John stopped counting.
It was a really weird feeling. Sometimes everything was just fine. With time, John even let Nikolai see his chest, let him touch it and damn near worship it. It made him feel so conflicted, because in those moments he almost liked having tits. Loved the attention he got and loved how sexy he felt. But then, other times, John could barely stand looking at himself. The thought of even taking a layer off was too much. He felt naked even while clothed. He didn't want to feel like a walking stereotype that looked in the mirror and saw himself as a girl, but there were just some thoughts that weren't possible to control. And fuck, Nikolai took it all in stride too. He didn't always do the right thing, or the thing that John needed at the moment, but he tried his damned best.
Despite the number of times John had lashed out in anger and sadness, or any time he felt like curling up into a ball and withering away in peace, Nik was there. One particular time, John remembered them sitting on the bed together. He himself was dressed in baggy clothes, trying to disappear into himself, and Nikolai sat behind him, arms wrapped gently around his midriff as the Russian whispered sweet nothings into his ear.
“My strong man. You're not just your body, Jonathan. I've got you, da?” He muttered quietly, as John shook slightly from the overwhelming emotions.
He remembered feeling so guilty that night. So fucking selfish. He had had a long day, filled with debriefs, training, and mounds of paperwork that he needed to deal with. Life as a newly promoted Captain was taking its toll on him, and he had a hard time adjusting. That's why, when he got back to his quarters to find Nik there already, he had felt his stomach tighten with dread. And when Nikolai asked if they could fuck, it was like the straw that broke the camel's back.
He had never felt so bad about refusing sex. He knew that his partner would accept his answer, even if it made his insides twist at the sight of his disappointed expression. Fuck, it really made him want to take it all back, suck it up just to make the other man happy. But he couldn't. The dysphoria and tiredness were too much to ignore. The idea of exposing his body, the body he hated and loved at the same time, made him feel disgusted once again.
And yet, Nikolai never got angry with him. Never yelled, never forced, never begged. He just… wrapped his arms around him and held him tight as a few tears slipped here and there. Reassured him and never demanded more than what he could give. He was one hell of a lucky man.
The guilt never fully went away. Any time John denied Nikolai something because of his traitorous body, he felt the shame and guilt wash over him in waves. It felt selfish to focus on his own needs, even though that's not what it was at all. But over time, John learned to stand his ground. He came to a point where he simply couldn't force himself into things anymore for Nikolai's sake. Sometimes his chest was off-limits, and that was that. Other times it was other body parts, and that was that.
Speaking of his chest; he couldn't wait to get rid of it. At the age of 37, he felt like he should've had the surgery ages ago. Yet there was always something getting in the way. Either he didn't have the money at the start, he didn't have anyone who could help him out during recovery, or he simply didn't have time for it. And maybe he was just a bit scared of it. Top surgery was always something he wanted, but the prospect of such a huge change terrified him. On top of that, he really fucking loved the attention that Nikolai gave to his chest.
The thought of that always made him feel like such a hypocrite. After all, he was supposed to hate his chest, wasn't he? Was he even trans at all, if he couldn't even get himself to transition properly? Those thoughts plagued him at night, and he honestly didn't think he'd get answers for them.
A soft, low groan behind him finally snapped him out of his thoughts. Nikolai's deep breathing turned more uneven, and he felt the man shift further behind him, waking up slowly. John smiled slightly despite himself and turned around onto his other side, pressing his chest against Nikolai's own, plush tits meeting plush pecs. It was a slightly funny comparison, if one thought about it for too long. But at that moment, neither of the men seemed to care.
John reached out to wrap one of his arms around Nikolai's neck and hummed quietly. Nikolai grunted in response as his eyes fluttered open.
“Morning.” He whispered roughly, leaning in to nuzzle his face against John's neck. The display of affection made John huff fondly.
“Morning yourself.” Came the whisper in return. And by God, if this just wasn't the perfect morning. The thoughts John fought against would likely never leave. They would always stay in the back of his mind, and he would unfortunately have to live with them. But as Nikolai pulled him in closer, pressing small kisses all over his face and neck?
John supposed it was worth it.