Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Shotgun ❯ Shotgun ( One-Shot )

Shotgun

 

The wedding was really… quick, Akane thought absently as she stared at her sleeping husband.

Husband; the word wasn't alien to her, not after three years of hearing the promise of it over and over. Well, that promise had been kept, whether she had wanted it or not.

She had, of course - maybe not so soon after college started, maybe not so early in her comparatively short life, but she had wanted it, someday. Maybe today was the right day for it, maybe it wasn't, but whatever sort of day it was it had ended with a ring on her finger. And Ranma, of course; it had ended with Ranma.

Akane shifted to lie on her back and stared up at the ceiling. She listened to the sound of Ranma's breathing, and was surprised he wasn't snoring. She'd heard him snore before— Akane frowned suddenly and looked over at him again. He was sleeping next to her, in a queen-sized futon that their fathers had set up in Ranma's bedroom at the Saotome home. Their family - not “families” anymore, they were one family now - had insisted they stay at his mother's house that night, and his mother decided to stay with Ranma's father at the Tendou home. “It's your honeymoon!” Genma had shouted in his drunken stupor, though no one had asked him his opinion.

Ranma was, for the moment, in girl form. She hadn't even asked him to change.

“Ranma…!” Akane hissed quietly - she didn't want to wake him if he was actually sleeping.

Ranma cracked an eye open and turned his head to face her. “Yeah?” he said softly. Akane wondered when she had ceased to refer to girl-Ranma as a “she” in her own mind. She didn't think she ever had.

“You are awake, then.” He nodded a little sheepishly. Akane turned away from him, not prepared to look him in the eye as she spoke. “We've been married for almost eight hours, and you… and we,” Akane faltered, feeling her face heat; she wasn't really sure what was on her mind, but she was positive of what was in her heart; the only problem was translating those feelings into words, something she just couldn't seem to do. “We should be happy, shouldn't we? I mean, it's over.”

Ranma snorted inelegantly, a noise that sounded rather feminine and silly in his female falsetto. “I dunno, Akane. Whatever.” Akane frowned, anger bubbling up in her stomach and threatening to erupt from her throat in a slew of angry words; actually, she really just wanted to vomit. She had been wanting to all day. She felt sick to her stomach over this, this marriage; it was like she'd forced herself on him in a way that Shanpu, Ukyou and Kodachi never had.

But Akane hadn't asked for the wedding. When she'd shown up at the house -

Ranma in tow - that weekend, it was just to visit with her family. She missed her father and sisters at college, and just wanted to come down for the weekend, to spend a day with him. Ranma wanted to check in with his mother, maybe even his father.

She'd called ahead, her first mistake. When they'd arrived, Akane had gone into the dojo first, just to look at it for a minute. Her second mistake; she was greeted by a huge crowd of silent people, all staring at her with huge shit-eating-grins on their faces, and a makeshift alter, complete with a very bored-looking priest. Ranma came in to see what she was doing, and then thirty minutes and several shouting matches later, she and Ranma were husband and wife. He was no longer a Saotome, but a Tendou.

She looked over at him again, watched his eyes squinting up at the ceiling. “Look, Ranma, I just meant that we don't have to deal with Shanpu and Kodachi anymore,” Akane said tightly, deliberately not mentioning a certain okonomiyaki chef, “I mean, Shanpu will probably go back to China, and Kodachi has to give up now.”

He sighed and rolled over onto his side, facing her. “Yeah,” he paused, picking at the coverlet with his small fingers, “whatever.”

Akane let out a huge sigh of frustration and rolled over herself, putting her back to him. “Fine; I just thought we should talk about it. We never seem to talk about anything else; I thought `Hey, why not give it a go!' But I can see you don't want to cooperate!” silence forced a wedge a mile wide between them. Akane's back felt very cold, and she wondered if it Ranma was glaring at her, but she was too mad herself to care if he was angry.

“Akane… Okay, let's talk about it,” she didn't roll over right away, hoping in vain that he might apologize, “please just look at me!”

Akane did as he asked, before he shut her out again, and their eyes met and held. “I just—”

“It's so—” they both started talking at the same time, and then clamped their mouths shut.

“You first,” Akane offered, propping herself up on her elbow. It made her feel a little more confident to have her head above Ranma's, she wasn't sure why.

Ranma cleared his throat nervously and tugged at his pigtail. Akane had always found the gesture cute; it was like he was checking to see if it was still there - which was perfectly reasonable, judging by who their principal had been. “Well, I guess I'm not unhappy, I'm just… kinda…” Ranma sat up as he spoke, moving his hands about helplessly as he tried to describe his feelings, something she knew he wasn't very good at. She smiled bitterly; correction, something neither of them was very good at.

Akane sat up, too, and took one of his hands, mostly to get his attention, but also because she just liked holding his hand, even when he was a she. “Look, Ranma. Just because we're married doesn't mean we have to act like it,” he looked at her, puzzled, and she elaborated, blushing and trying to keep the quaver out of her voice, “that is, I mean, we don't have to, you know, live in the same room or anything, you know, at school, and we don't have to… have to…” Akane trailed off, letting his hand go to make a sort of circling motion with hers as she tried to come up with a euphemism for the thing she so desperately did not want to discuss with him.

Ranma ducked his head a little and raised an eyebrow, waiting expectantly. The look on his face was so innocuous and annoying, that Akane finally half-snarled out her answer just to get him to do anything else but stare at her. “Be… intimate with each other, okay!”

He stared at her for a minute longer, confused, and then his eyes became the size of saucers, and his mouth formed a little “o.” “Right, yeah,” he looked pained for a minute, and rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, “yeah, sure, I mean that's cool, if… if uh… y-you want.” He cleared his throat again, head bobbing up and down in assent.

Akane huffed and flopped back down into bed. “Is that it, then?” she asked airily, feeling a little put-upon.

Ranma grunted and snuggled down underneath the covers. “Guesso,” there was a long, pregnant pause, and Akane thought he was going to say something important, but all that came out was, “`Night, Akane.” She sighed and draped the back of her arm over her eyes. She was sure there was something else he wanted to say, but he just wouldn't… out with it, and Akane knew she couldn't very well force him.

“`Night Ranma.”

She listened to his quiet breathing for a time, and blushingly relished in the feeling of him just lying next to her, his heat traveling through the blankets to warm her. He was very still, and the space between them was vast, but she felt closer to him than she ever had in that moment. It wasn't because they were married now, or even because they were in the same bed; it was because they were both reaching for sleep. It was a silly thing, really, such a small excuse for a connection, but it was there.

And Akane wanted to keep it.

“Ranma,” she paused, waiting for him to acknowledge her. After a while he made an “hmm” noise, so she continued talking. “Is there something you want to say? I won't… get mad or hit you or anything, I… I promise.” She couldn't bear to look at him, as she could feel his body tense with terror or panic or whatever he was feeling.

“Wuh… um…” he sucked in a breath, let it out slowly, “yeah, there's some stuff I wanna say.”

Akane's pulse quickened and she could actually feel her heart thudding in her chest; blood rushed through her ears and she fought to keep from shaking. “Well, you can tell me, you know, I mean, that is, if you want.” She felt a sudden sense of urgency; what Ranma was going to say was important, she just knew it.

She felt him roll over, and then the weight shifted and she knew he'd left the bed. Akane sat up quickly, but she saw him standing at the foot, arms folded across his chest, back to her in the dim light of the moon washing in through the window. Relief washed through her; what she had thought he was doing, she didn't know.

Ranma rubbed the back of his neck and sighed, tilting his head back and popping the bones in his neck loudly.

When he spoke, his voice was very quiet, even quieter than normal because he was a she. “Akane, I'm not… I'm not sure what I want. I mean, your compromise is nice an' all, that's real… nice… of you.” He turned to look at her, fiddling with his pigtail again, and Akane could see his face redden, even in the dark. “But there are so many things I thought… that we'd talk about, y'know, before we got married,” her heart soared; he'd been thinking about them being married, in that way, her way, “but we never got the chance.” frowned and left the room suddenly. Akane tensed, wondering if she should follow him - the way he left was not in anger, so she assumed he was coming back. She stared at her gym bag, slumped in the corner, TENDOU painted on it in white letters. Somewhere in there was a small, innocuous box full of something that she didn't even want to think about. A “wedding present” from Nabiki. On a strange impulse, before he came back, Akane reached over and dug through it like a madwoman. Hand finding the box, she yanked it out and shoved it underneath the pillow, just as she heard the sound of running water somewhere in the house.

Heavier footsteps than those that left returned a male Ranma to her. After closing the door and locking it, he got back into bed, deliberately not looking at her. Only once the covers were settled over his lap did he finally look her in the face. “I don't want no interruptions,” he said firmly, “not from anyone in the house, or from you, okay?” Akane nodded, mouth shut tight; she would never speak again if he said what she wanted to hear.

Ranma visibly steeled himself there in the dark; Akane could see the muscles in his jaw tighten. “Akane, I… like you, a lot,” he smiled a little shyly, “I mean, y'gotta have figured that out by now, an' there ain't no point in lyin' anymore.” Akane had to do everything short of clamping a hand over her mouth to keep from squealing; one day he'd say it, but “I like you” was positively musical for now.

“I like you an' I ain't unhappy that we're married, an' all. I'm just,” he started talking, very quickly, as if afraid he was going to lose his nerve if he didn't just spill it all out at once, “I don't know how to do this, you know? I don't got any experience bein' a husband; I barely even have any experience bein' a boyfriend. I mean, we've never even been even sorta i-intimate so I don't even know what that's like or what I'm missin' or how that affects us. I don't know what I want or what… I don't know. I don't not wanna be married to you I just don't know if I wanna be married.” Akane's first instinct was to angrily shout “well what do you know” but she beat that one into submission and waited, hoping he'd open up some more. However, after a long silence, it seemed he was spent. She pushed the box a little further under the pillow with her hand, felt a brief moment of crazy abandon—she could just throw herself at him.

Probably not the best idea, though.

“My turn?” he nodded sheepishly, shaking all over like a small, frightened rabbit. Akane felt a strong sense of maturity and responsibility; she felt, suddenly, that this was a turning point for her and him. There would be many of these points, but this one was crucial, she knew it was. In her heart of minds, she knew.

“Ranma, I like you too,” he looked over at her, and smiled in such a handsome way that she suddenly wanted to kiss him, but she held back; she had to say what she had to say… first, “and I'm not unhappy with our situation, either. I don't know what I want, but I know what I don't want.” She took in a deep breath, like he had done, and let it out in a shaky stream before she spoke again. “I don't want this— us, to end, I want to stay the way we are— married, I mean,” her hands were twisted very tightly into the sheet, so she let it go and started nervously smoothing the wrinkles out, anything to keep her eyes away from his, “and most of all I want you to be happy, w-with me. I mean, I can't cook or do anything that your other fiancées could, but I still want to make you happy. I made that compromise a moment ago because I thought that's what you wanted, but I didn't really ask what you wanted, so— so we should talk about that.”

Akane dared a glance at him; he was watching her, a very neutral expression on his face, but he was still shaking a little. She stared him in the eyes now, as she spoke again. “I know you said you don't know what you want, but maybe we could find out, together?” she spoke hopefully, and without really realizing it she'd taken his hands again. They were warm and calloused, and they clung to hers tightly, as if afraid she was going to go somewhere.

 

What did he want? Ranma stared into her eyes, or what he could see of them in the dim, and felt his hands shaking in hers, felt his muscles twitching with nervousness, and his tightening diaphragm forcing the breath out of his lungs in quiet, shuddering bursts. Their faces were a foot apart, and the distance suddenly started to lessen, and then they were kissing. Ranma wasn't really sure what had happened, but he was sure that this was the best on-purpose-kiss they had ever shared. Neither knew what they were doing, really, but they felt it out, and when the kiss ended they were both breathless and shaking.

He'd heard from the boys at university stories about how they'd kissed a girl and suddenly something left them, and they were all over her before they knew it, like white on rice. Ranma had understood what they meant, but had of course translated it into a form he could understand easily, like martial arts. They'd laughed at him, shaking their heads knowingly.

Ranma sort of understood better what they'd been saying now, but he wasn't really willing to give it up yet. Something in him was stronger than something else in him and he held back, just gripping her hands, his lips a few inches from hers so that he could feel her breath against his.

“Ranma, I…” Akane trailed off and hung her head. He looked at the crown of her head, and then found himself pressing his forehead against it, and then his cheek. Akane cried out and wrapped her arms around his waist, as though she was trying to burrow into him. She mumbled things into his chest, and her hot breath was mapping a path down his abdomen to his groin, and making every part that it touched tingle and shiver. He held her tightly to him, gripping the back of her night shirt with his hands.

Ranma had no idea what was happening. He felt like something important was transpiring, something on the level of saving Akane's life from Saffron. He felt that, if he didn't do this right, however, that he'd lose her, for good. Of course, he was just being dramatic, but what else could he be but dramatic? This was serious business.

“Akane… Hey, look at me,” Akane lifted her head, slowly, until she was looking him in the eye, “I…” he suddenly realized he had no idea what he wanted to say, so he said what he thought would be the best thing to say at that moment. “You're really cute, Akane— a-and beautiful. And I don't care that you can't cook - that ain't what marriage is about, right?” It was lame and silly, but apparently Akane liked it enough to whisper his name and bury her face in his chest again.

He decided to roll with it. Things were going well, why not push it? “And I lied…” she stiffened, “I… I love you.”

Akane let out a small sob. “I lied, too, I lied, I lied, I lied,” she shook her head several times, pressing her lips to his, her own shaking, salty with tears and snot, “I love you. I love you so much.” To finally say it, have it hanging in the air between them like the air from a burst balloon felt… really good.

Ranma kissed her again, firmly. He pulled back, but she dragged him forward, kissing his face and throat and mouth until they were down on the futon and somehow she was under him, small and shaking. He pushed himself up on his elbows and stared down at her. There was no shaft of moonlight cascading through her hair like in all of Nabiki's dirty novels he'd “researched.” In their closeness and the shadows it created he could barely see her face. He reached above her head and switched on the lamp on a low table behind the futon.

Akane was a mess. Her eyes were red from crying, and her nose had mucus running out of it. He chuckled, helped her wipe her face with the blankets, and she laughed, too, quietly, in the back of her throat. Eventually, their giggles subsided, and Ranma stared down at her again, his expression falling into something serious. Akane looked up at him in the orange light from the bedside lamp, and her mouth opened a little. He leaned down and kissed her, settling his lower body against hers, hesitantly at first, then with confidence, wrapping his arms around her head and toying with her hair.

She made a small, high-pitched noise and pushed up against him, fumbling with his tongue in her lips. Ranma was just as inexperienced as her, but that didn't make her mouth any less soft and warm and wet. A tingle spread from his mid-thigh and into his groin and up into his chest, leaving behind a trail of fire that flared just under the surface of his skin. A part of him wondered how Akane was feeling, how he would feel if he was a girl right now, but he pushed them aside - he was a man, and that's what he wanted to be, and dammit it felt so good pressed against her soft breasts, with his knees between her legs and her body shifting against his groin—

Akane pulled away from him like he was on fire, pushing her hands against his shoulders and staring up at his red, slightly sweaty face. Both of them were breathing heavily. Her eyes flashed briefly down his body, and Ranma followed her gaze to the lump in his boxers. “Oh… that.” he got off of her as quickly as he could and pulled a pillow over his lap. After she'd stared at him in mutually embarrassed silence, Ranma got up, unable to keep his face from drooping into a sulk, heart still pounding out a lustful rhythm in his chest he never felt when he was alone and wishing…

“Ranma, where are you going?” Akane asked a little breathlessly. He looked back at her, and her mussed hair - she'd been keeping it even shorter since they'd started attending college, and he really, really liked the way it framed her face. When it was messy, she looked punkish, spunky; she looked so Tomboy it made his chest ache with longing.

“To uh… to change… into a girl… so we don't—” Akane jumped up and pulled him back down to the bed, and he realized he still had the pillow over his crotch. Akane saw, too, yanked the pillow away and tossed it across the room. He gulped.

“Why would you do that unless you can't help it…?” she whispered, kissing him again. It was easier, now, more comfortable. Ranma liked it better, he decided, when they didn't accidentally bite each other.

“But, we… I mean…” he tried to protest in between kisses and pauses for breath, but couldn't figure out why or what he was even protesting, so he fell back into it, into her. Or rather, she pushed him down onto the futon, straddling his hips and staring down at him. He was relieved to see that she was shaking, that her face was red as a tomato - at least she was as confused and embarrassed as he was.

“We—” she took in a breath, let it out, and it passed moistly across his face as she leaned down towards him, “we can… I want to… with you.”

There was nothing in the world that could have prepared Ranma for that. He was sort of ready for “I love you,” he'd practiced saying it to Akane in the mirror often enough. “I love you” suddenly seemed an easy thing compared to this. This was more than fast, this was… instantaneous.

Did he want that?

Akane was looking at him expectantly, unmoving. He stared back at her, weighing thoughts and emotions and worries. Sex. Sex, sex, sex… it was a weird word, difficult to get around, a mental blockade in his head. Sex. He could say, honestly, sex with Akane was not something he ever even thought was going to happen before he was twenty.

Or dead, whichever came first.

Most of all, he had never thought of Akane wanting to have sex with him. After watching her beat the crap out of any guy who ever tried to touch her - granted, they were also trying to beat the crap out of her.

Akane was sitting on him now, one eyebrow raised, hands folded over her pajama top. Ranma reached up and pulled her hands down to his chest, felt them shaking. His own were quivering as well, but from fear or excitement, he didn't know. She gripped at his chest with her hands, breathed out slowly, and Ranma realized she'd been holding her breath, waiting for him to answer.

As a response, Ranma reached up and started fumbling with the buttons on her pajama top. Akane gasped, and his hands froze, like she was a bomb he could set off. But she didn't move, just stared at him, eyes half-lidded. Ranma continued, unbuttoning her top to reveal a tank-top underneath. He sighed, half in displeasure, and half in relief - at least the final decision to remove that would probably have to be hers, and that made the going easier for him.

“Ranma, I really do love you… but… I'm not ready,” he sighed, smiled ruefully, slightly disappointed, but also feeling a little relieved, again, “no, not that way, idiot.” She grumbled, and then reached behind herself and under the one pillow left on the futon. A box came out from under it, clutched in her hand, and blushing she turned to him and shoved it in his face. “For kids, I'm not ready for kids.”

“Uh… oh… um…” he stared at the box, “LATEX” stared back at him, “OH!” he shouted in surprise. Where the hell did she even… how… why—

“Nabiki.” They said in unison. Akane nodded, blushing.

“She's my sister—my business is hers, as far as she's concerned.” Akane shrugged, speaking as though she wasn't holding a box of condoms in his face. Ranma took them and set them aside for now. “Let's uh… let's worry about that when we get there… um, you know… a little later.”

Akane looked away, obviously embarrassed, “Right, yeah, sorry.”

Ranma chuckled a little. “Hey, `always be prepared.'” Akane laughed and slapped his bare chest. He caught her hand and held it, kissing her fingertips, not knowing why. He tugged on her hand and pulled her down against him, tried to find that rhythm again, caught it up, held on to it.

Shifting so that they were lying side-by-side, equally in control of the situation, Ranma rubbed her sides and hips. Akane moaned and pulled her pajama top all the way off, tossing it carelessly across the room. Afterwards, she reached up and ran her nails across his scalp. This time, it was different. Hands were more urgent, more explorative. Ranma had… experimented in his female form, a few times. He wasn't really attracted to himself, though, not in the way Daisuke and Hiroshi were always teasing him. No matter what form he was in, touching someone else and being touched by them he knew would always be more exciting.

And exciting was the only way to describe this. Akane was pressing a leg between his thighs, and when he pressed against her with his own thigh, he felt heat through her pajama pants. Touching Akane was so different from touching his own female form that he might as well have been exploring an alien planet. Her hips were wider, more sensual - Japanese women may want to be boyishly thin in his experience, but damn were her hips sexy. And her arms and shoulders were strong, firm. Tentatively, he reached around and clasped her buttocks in his hand; it was like a rock under his hand. Akane giggled and started kissing his throat.

“Oh… uh… wow…” he gasped out; her kisses were clumsy, maybe, he couldn't tell around the tingling sensations spreading out from her mouth. He gripped her butt even harder, dragging her into him and trying to occupy more of her space. “Ranma… I love you.” she said again.

“Uh… jeez… I love you too.” the words became difficult. This was the farthest they had ever come. His erection was pressed painfully now against his boxers, threatening to pop the button on the front. Akane mouthed his ear, now, and his hand on her rear travelled up and over her hip and slender, strong waist, and to her breast. It was an awkward angle, and he ended up rolling her partially on her back so he could explore better. They kissed again, deeply, her running her tongue almost to the roof of his mouth, him chewing on her lip when she started to pull away, making her gasp.

Her breasts were smaller than his, but he liked them better. They were on another person, they rose and fell quickly with her breath, and they fit in his hand. Her nipple was hard under his hand, even through the tank top. “Hold on, lemme…” she pushed him back a little and then reached down and lifted her tank top, but couldn't get it off over her head. Ranma had seen her breasts before. When she was sixteen. These were a woman's breasts. He reached out to touch them - they were so soft he didn't realize he was actually touching them at first.

“Ranma… can you help?” she squeaked behind the shield of the tank top. Ranma gulped and lifted her up under the small of her back so she could get the garment off. She tossed it near the pajama top and looked away from him. Her face and chest were red with embarrassment. “Oh man, Akane. You are so… you're really, really beautiful.” he said breathlessly, and he meant it. Pert breasts stared up at him with a sort of defiance that only a part of Akane's anatomy could put forth.

He looked at her searchingly, and she bit her lip. He slipped his arm out from under her, letting her back down onto the futon, and reached up to grasp her shoulder gently. Leaning down, he kissed her, lightly, between her breasts. She mewled and squirmed against him. “That tickles,” she whispered. He smiled against her skin and kissed to the right.

Porn was fun, but Ranma was not an idiot. He was aware that most of it was bullshit. Especially considering that he'd touched his own girl body, and knew firsthand, so to speak, that it was mostly a load of crap. The few times that he had indulged in dirty comics, and the many times he scanned through Nabiki's harlequin romances for the naughty bits, he almost laughed at how outrageous some of the scenarios were. But he hoped, just a little, that Akane was as sensitive as his own girl-form was, because he really, really liked breasts, and getting to touch them and have his wife feel good would be… amazing.

His mouth found her nipple - his eyes were closed because he was still feeling shy - and she gasped. When he laved his tongue across it, she moaned quietly and pressed her chest up against his mouth. His stomach lurched against his abdomen at that sound, not unpleasantly, and his groin felt electrically charged.

“Mmm…” he murmured against her skin, pleased that she was enjoying it more than he'd hoped, and she ran her fingers through his hair and made little sounds of assent and encouragement. Her knees were rubbing together, and her shins brushed lightly against his erection, sending little shudders through his body, tiny tremors that even made his mouth shake. He kissed across her chest to her other breast, but as he lavished with his tongue, Akane reached down with her hand and—

“Holy shit!” he cried out when she touched his cock through his boxers, and almost came right there. Ranma did not masturbate often, and someone else touching him was very unusual. Akane clumsily pulled her hand away.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked, voice quavering a little. He held himself above her on his elbows, head hung so that his bangs brushed against her chest.

“No, no, no, you didn't… you didn't hurt me. I was just surprised.” He smiled at her, and was pleased to watch her expression melt into one that he'd caught glimpses of, fleetingly, before the wedding, before Saffron. Love…?

“Do you want to stop?” her question made him hesitate. Did it mean that she wanted to stop?

 

Akane didn't want to stop, but she was now concerned that things were moving too fast for him. After all, he'd said that it was “nice” of her to agree to hold off on intimacy, but in reality she didn't really want to. Akane had lived her entire life a sheltered child, and when Ranma came along, that all changed. Suddenly, people actively started trying to kill her and do major damage to her home. At first, she blamed him, but slowly she began to realize that she was learning, and she liked to learn - even if it was a little scary sometimes.

This was all scary too, but in a good way, like cliff-diving or an intense sparring match. Her nerves were all jumpy, and every piece of exposed skin was hot and shivering at the same time. Her father's sheltering… it had made her feel smothered. Now, knowing that she had made the decision, ultimately, to stay with Ranma, she felt free, even with a gold ring on her finger tying her - hopefully - forever to another human being, she felt free.

Ranma looked at her face, eyes flicking down to her chest briefly. Conscious of her nakedness, Akane resisted the urge to put a hand over her breasts - they were pretty, nothing to be ashamed of, and damned if she was going to be, even if her husband's were bigger.

“I'll stop if you want, Akane,” he looked away from her, and then at her out of the corner of his eye.

“I don't want—” she chose her words carefully, “We're adults, we're married, and we love each other,” he smiled at that, warmly, and her tummy fluttered, “I don't want my wedding night to fall to the wayside because of some jitters, but more than anything, I want us to be happy together.” Then she smiled at him, because that always seemed to do the trick, and she felt like smiling. That was the most adult thing she said, and she even managed to say it with her top off. Akane felt pretty confident.

Ranma turned and looked at her fully in the face, smiling broadly. “Okay, yeah, I mean, we're married, we can do whatever the hell we want,” suddenly he looked giddy, and Akane giggled a little when he leaned down and whispered, “may I continue to uh… kiss the bride?” she nodded rapidly and he laughed throatily and continued. Her mouth, her cheeks, her ear were kissed - the loud popping noise made her wince, but it still felt nice. Wrapping an arm around her waist, hand tunneling between her and the sheets, Ranma lifted her slightly off of the futon and pressed her against him. His erection pushed against her legs and she felt the heat coming off of his groin through her pajama bottoms.

Her remaining clothes felt oppressive, sweaty as she was. “Ranma, can you—” she managed between kissing him and him kissing her face.

“Can I what?” he murmured - his voice had gotten so rich and deep now that he was a man, and it made her shiver.

“Can you… um…” she hummed a little when he pulled one of her nipples into his mouth again - he was suspiciously good at that, “can you let me down… so… ah… I can get my pants off?” he looked up at her, mouth slightly open, lips slick with saliva. And then, slowly, eyes wide, he laid her back down.

He was staring at her, straddling her hips. Trying not to look at his crotch and look sexy at the same time, Akane reached down and pulled at the tie holding her pajama pants up, then started to slide them and her underwear down her hips. She couldn't help but briefly close her eyes in embarrassment when she had to lift up her legs and torso to get them all the way down her legs and toss them aside. Her knees brushed his back briefly before she settled herself flat on the bed.

There, she was naked. First. Hah. Ranma the Chicken.

They had a staring contest for a few moments before Ranma finally dared to start looking at her. Feeling awkward from the close attention he was paying her, she looked away, but he reached up with his hand and touched her cheek. “Hey, why so shy? You ain't got nothin' I haven't seen before,” she looked at him in a huff, feeling a little spark of anger flare up, “though, can't say I haven't wanted to see it, like, a lot.” He smiled goofily and she melted a little inside again.

“Oh, Ranma, you big dummy.” She reached up and pulled him to her so that she could kiss him again. His hands ran up and down her sides and she shivered when he gripped her thighs.

“Akane,” he murmured her name with his eyes closed and she wondered if he even realized he'd spoken it aloud.

She kissed his neck and ran her tongue along the outside of his ear, trying to remember, for once, Nabiki's dirty comics - she could swear her sister left those out on purpose for her to find - and what her friends would brag about when their parents were out of town, and they were left with their boyfriends, alone in a dark house. Akane may have called Ranma a “pervert” hundreds of times, but she really just did it to make him mad, something she'd tried, pretty successfully, to stop doing. In reality, Akane had always been curious about Yuka and Sayuri's talk of “heavy petting,” and now that she was exploring her own sexual nature, she felt she knew why they were so excited about it.

It was fun.

Ranma was groaning into her ear as she latched on to his with her teeth and nibbled a little. He tasted salty, and she liked the ability to smell his hair when his pigtail brushed her cheek. His hands did not seem to know where they wanted to go at first, wandering wildly as they were across her body. Over her breasts often, across her stomach, down her thighs to her knees. Finally, one stayed on the futon next to her waist whilst the other ran down her stomach and pressed against her inner thigh. His palm was hot and she let go of his ear long enough to suck in a surprised breath. Before she could return to kissing him, however, he moved and pressed his entire hand, after a moment's hesitation, against her crotch.

Akane had masturbated, guiltily, a few times. But except for baths when she was young, and one thoroughly horrible gynecological exam that Kasumi had taken her to when her period refused to start even at thirteen, Akane had never felt someone else's hands on that part of her. She didn't know if she liked it, yet, but his hand was warm and kind of rough in a way that felt good.

Ranma, meanwhile, was frozen in place. He wasn't looking at her, and as he supported himself, still as a stone, he barely even breathed. “It's okay, Ranma,” she murmured against his neck, finally, “I'm nervous, too.”

He let out a breath and then looked at her. “I… I sorta know… some stuff, I mean—” he began to speak then cut himself off several times, face redder than she had ever seen it, to the point that the air was actually hot this close to face. It took her a moment, but she slowly realized what he was saying.

Ranma had touched his girl-form, probably more than she'd ever thought he would. “Oh, uh,” she interrupted him, and he clamped his mouth shut, staring at her like she might clobber him, “that's… probably normal?” Akane was trying to be mature, but inside she felt stupidly jealous. Even though “Ranko” was technically just Ranma, she felt like he'd touched another woman before her.

“It wasn't anything like… like this, Akane. Touchin' you is, um, it's really good, and different,” he pressed the heel of his hand against her pubis, the area science told her was a few inches below her belly button and filled with nerves, and the place her suddenly overwhelmed body told her was the happy, happy Akane place that lovely, wonderful, amazing Ranma was touching, “I like touching you, Akane…” he whispered into her ear before kissing the sensitive place between her neck and shoulder.

Akane was at a loss. Her hands gripped the futon, and she tried not to move. A small moan escaped her mouth when he started moving his fingers, clumsily, against her labia, and she scrunched her eyes shut and bit her lower lip, unwilling to respond for fear he think she was weird, or goofy, or a pervert or—

“Hey, you okay?” or hurt. Dammit. She was ruining this because she couldn't lighten up. Akane wanted this, as much or maybe more than him, but there were walls that she had put up and they were difficult to tear down.

“Yes, I'm good,” she forced herself to open her eyes; he was looking down at her, concerned; his hand had stopped moving and had pulled away, but she still felt the heat from his palm and fingers.

“Y'sure?” She nodded vigorously. Even though the interruptions of their own inexperience sort of broke the mood, she didn't really care, and he didn't seem to, either. That was the way things were with them, and probably always would be - sort of awkward, clumsy, unsure. Though, maybe someday…

Ranma resumed touching her, this time kissing her full on the mouth and, probably by accident, mimicking the motions of his hand on her labia with his mouth on hers. Akane cracked an eye open to stare at him, found that his own were closed and his brow was furrowed in concentration.

It was time to encourage him. Ranma was a person who, though confident, needed reassurance just like anyone else. If this… thing was going to go where she hoped it would, Akane was going to have to let loose a little. They were alone, with no one around to hear anything. Only Ranma could hear her. That was nothing to feel weird about. He was her damn husband.

Pulling away from his mouth, Akane wrenched her hands away from the futon and wrapped them around Ranma's neck, and let out the noise she'd been holding in - a squeaking moan that sounded ridiculous, but felt so good when she finally let it out. “Does… does it feel good?” Ranma asked, speaking a little louder, a little more confidently, than he had since they'd started. Akane nodded, flushed with arousal and awkwardness, but feeling proud of herself for finally letting loose a little. It felt good, all of it.

She looked at him, intending to try and explain how good his ministrations felt, but he said, “Just… gimme a sec…” confused, she lifted herself up on her elbows and watched him pull his hand away and kiss down her body until he reached the juncture between her legs. Akane flopped back down on the futon and pressed her hands over her eyes; he was looking at it like it was… something… he wanted to look at. She didn't know what.

“Ranma, that's really emb— ahh!” she gasped out and reflexively grabbed his hair when he pressed his tongue against her and licked. “Oh, oh my God, please…” she didn't know what she was saying. When Akane was mortified, she babbled. And she was babbling now, saying unfinished pieces of sentences that eventually just turned into soft little panting moans.

Ranma, meanwhile, kept licking, and eventually started sucked gently on her clit. Where the hell he had learned to do that, she could only guess. “Mmm…” he murmured, dipping his tongue inside her. Akane gasped and her hips bucked a little. A familiar knot was forming in her pelvis and when Ranma pressed his whole mouth against her clitoris the knot unwound like a spring coiled up too tight, too fast and too hard.

She couldn't make any noise. Akane, in all her own exploration, had only orgasmed a few times. But this was a little different, because it was happening all over her body. Her entire frame shook and little lights actually danced across her vision. Her head rocked against the futon and her back arched and she pressed herself against Ranma's face. Her entire body was throbbing, slowly, fading until she gasped a little and lowered herself back down.

 

Ranma didn't dare move. He did dare to look up at her, and what he saw made him feel pretty damn pleased with himself. Saotome-Tendou School of Improvisation - all he'd done was found what made her moan the loudest, combine it with what he'd learned from touching himself, and went with it. It seemed to work. Martial arts could be applied to almost everything!

“Oh… Ranma… oh… wow… where did you learn… to do that?” Akane gasped out. Ranma kissed her labia, and nuzzled her inner thigh a little, wiping his face off on the futon once before crawling back up to straddle her again. He smiled at her, aware that he smelled like her crotch and not really caring - she smelled like syrup. He liked syrup.

“Uh… well, y'know, I improvised,” he smiled cheekily, “I must have done a pretty good job, huh?” he waggled his eyebrows at her and she laughed.

“Yeah, okay, fine, that was, wow.” she draped an arm across her face and yawned. Ranma glanced over at the clock - it was 10:45pm. He was prepared to stop, and claim he had to go to the bathroom so that he could rid himself of his throbbing erection, if and only if Akane was too tired to help him with it.

His mind reeled at how she might.

“Akane?” he queried when she hadn't moved in a little while. She dragged her arm away from her eyes and smiled up at him.

“I'm not tired, Ranma.” She giggled and rolled over so that she was on top of him. He liked the way her breasts jiggled when she laughed, and tickled her sides a little to get the reaction again. “Heehee! Cut it out!” she slapped his hands away playfully and he caught her wrists on an impulse. Using his stomach muscles, he sat up and started kissing her breasts, letting her wrists go to cup her firm buttocks with his hands. Akane dug her fingers into his hair and sighed through her teeth, and he grazed her nipple with his canines.

“Oh, Ranma, is it okay if…” please, Ranma almost said out loud, please don't let her say she wanted them to stop, “if I touch you again?” His heart thudded so loud in his chest he could swear it reverberated off of his sternum. He looked up at her, pressing the upper part of his chest against her breasts, enjoying the closeness of her skin.

“Yeah, I mean, if you wanna.” He gulped.

“Well, to be honest I'm nervous,” her voice was very small, unlike her, “but I just want to take our time tonight, you know? Just sort of… ease into things?” he nodded enthusiastically - he certainly wanted to take his time. That seemed reasonable, and positively amazing.

Akane pushed him so that he was lying on his back and then began to kiss him, shyly at first, just on the mouth and then across his cheek to his throat. He turned his head slightly to brush his cheek against her wiry hair and breathed in; she smelled so good. Her soft little mouth trailed feather-light kisses down his neck until she reached his collarbone, where she nipped him, lightly. He chuckled and she pressed her face into his chest. “No laughing!” she said, muffled.

He couldn't help it. “I'm sorry, I'm laughin' at us, not at you,” she looked up at him, confusion written in the lines formed between her furrowed brows, “we're such virgins.” She laughed at that, too, tittering in embarrassment and humor. She moved up and kissed him again.

“Okay, but try not to laugh at me?” he nodded and smirked at her, an expression he was perfectly aware made him look even more handsome - Ranma had no illusions about whether or not he was attractive, he just tried not to let it go to his head… often.

Akane began kissing down his body again, pausing briefly to lick his nipple. He groaned, and she mimicked his earlier actions on her breasts on his chest, nipping and licking and sucking, even leaving behind a small red mark on his left pectoral. He pressed his hands against her shoulders, trying not to push on her and at the same time willing her to continue down.

Eventually, her nipples grazing his flesh, she reached the barrier of cloth that was his badly-strained boxer shorts, her taught stomach just brushing his knees. Without even hesitating, Akane tugged them off so fast his erection almost smacked her in the face. Luckily, they were both saved at least that awkwardness and she tugged them down and off without further incident, throwing them onto the pile of clothes they had made out of her pajamas.

They were both naked together. This was actually the only time since the first day that they'd met that they were naked, and Ranma was a boy. Akane's eyes were firmly glued, unabashedly to his penis, which was standing up, proudly, a good seven inches from his crotch and twitching a little as the blood pumped through it.

She glanced up at him, and then caught his eyes and held them before reaching up and grasping him in her small calloused hand. Ranma's head rocked back of its own accord at the pressure and he gasped a little, purposefully stopping his hips from jutting forward in response. “A… Akane… aah…” he started to have trouble breathing as she moved her hand up and down, slowly, using his foreskin as a way to help her hand glide up and down smoothly.

Every time she breathed in those few moments, her hot breath landed squarely on the head of his member and sent Ranma's senses whirling. He couldn't help himself from at least tugging a little on her shoulders and whining in the back of his throat. “What's wrong?” her hand stopped and pulled back as though his dick was a hot poker.

“Nothin'… that feels really good, I just kind of…” he looked at her mouth and then closed his eyes, not really willing to ask for… that out loud. Also, not really remembering what it was called in his lustful haze.

“Um… like this?” something hot and wet and soft was placed on the head of his penis and Ranma's eyelids shot open as thought spring operated. He looked down at her - she had her mouth wrapped lightly around the head of his erection, eyes closed, brows up, and she was moving, slowly, down his shaft.

“Y-yeah… p-please don't stop,” he squeaked out, unable to tear his eyes away from her even though it was straining his neck. Akane made a small noise in the back of her throat and wrapped her hand around the base of his penis before moving back up. Ranma gently put his hands in her hair, just barely resting his fingertips there, and tried desperately to keep from thrusting into her mouth. He was totally going to thrust somewhere else later, and didn't want to scare her.

“Oh, Akane, you might wanna… I mean… I'm gonna…” her mouth was moving up and down, and even though her teeth grazed him a little, which kind of hurt, he still felt pressure building up where her hand was gripping him solidly. Her mouth and tongue were softer than… than anything and her lips were pressed snugly against him. It was really hot and really wet and it felt better than anything he'd ever done—

“Oh… shit… Ah!” he came suddenly, barely aware of how quickly it had been building up in him. His cock spasmed in her mouth and the whole thing felt like it was on fire, briefly. His head slammed back against the futon so hard it bounced and he cried out her name and gripped his hands in her hair, thrusting forward just a little before his hands lost their strength and fell to his sides.

Akane squeaked, but didn't move. Ranma's whole body was quivering, and he could hardly breathe - nothing, nothing in his life, had ever felt so satisfying. He could not imagine that sex could be better than that. Could. Not. Imagine.

Akane's mouth left his penis and he heard a swallowing sound, loud above his quiet, shuddering breaths. He looked at her, saw the surprised expression on her face. Mortified and slightly ashamed at having lost control, he sat up and touched her shoulders gingerly. “I'm so sorry, Akane! I should have pulled away or something!” Akane touched her lips and stared at him, eyes the size of dinner plates.

“It's okay, really, I was just a little shocked, I guess,” she paused, licking her teeth, “it doesn't taste too bad, and it would have ended up on my face otherwise.” she muttered. Ranma winced at the image, and then sighed with relief and rested his forehead against hers. When they parted, he kissed her and could taste a bitterness. He knew that that was some of him in her mouth, but wasn't grossed out, like he thought he'd be.

“I did not expect that to be your reaction,” Ranma said carefully when they pulled away, “I totally thought you was gonna hit me.”

Akane barked out a laugh. “Pfft, why?” she raised an eyebrow.

“`Cause I totally came in your mouth? I dunno…” when he said it out loud, it didn't seem to be that big of a deal.

Akane ducked her head a little and poked his chest. “I kinda… came in yours, too,” he snorted and kissed her again, feeling a little breathless with affection for her. They hugged, tightly. “Ranma, you are the only person I trust enough to do this with,” she whispered, “do you want to get the condoms?”

He moaned a little and kissed the side of her head. “Yeah, definitely.” Ranma practically leapt for the little black box at the far corner of the futon. He couldn't get it open fast enough. He pulled out a ribbon of little foil packets and tore one off, accidentally opening the package a little. A glistening white edge of the condom peeked luridly out from the ripped foil. Akane and him stared at what Ranma held between them and then up at each other.

“Do you know how to put it on?” Akane asked quietly, one eyebrow raised.

“Sorta…” he muttered, pulling the condom out and pinching it between his thumb and forefinger like it was something unidentifiable found under the sofa. After a few seconds, Akane made an exasperated noise and snatched the condom out of his fingers. She looked at it for a second, then slid it onto his cock - which had stiffened again as a testament to his stamina - huffily. Akane could do anything in a huff, apparently. “Well, that works.” Ranma said with a small laugh. Akane chuckled and then silenced. His dick looked strange, like a ghost almost, but he tried to not feel weird about it.

 

Akane continued to sit in front of her husband, not particularly sure what to do next. Ranma seemed to visibly steel himself and grabbed her shoulders gently, then started to push her onto her back. Akane frowned a little - that wasn't what she wanted. She wanted some control over the situation. Ranma's eyes opened wide when she pushed him back until he was the one lying down, and then straddled his hips.

 

“Uhh…” Ranma muttered when Akane placed the head of his penis at the opening of her vagina. She looked down at him, mouth open, chin looking as though it was nestled between her flushed breasts. Ranma sighed and his eyes closed halfway in affection, and then she slowly sat down until he was partway inside her and he gasped and grabbed her hips.

 

Akane felt slightly stretched, but it didn't hurt nearly as bad as some of the girls at school had claimed it did. She kept moving, sitting down slowly until he was all the way inside her - hymen long gone from martial arts - and her legs were pressed against his hips. “Oh…” she moaned; it felt like this was what she had been waiting for. His warm hands on her hips, his head tilted back so that his throat was exposed and quivering, and his hot, throbbing… “Oh Ranma…” He groaned, loudly.

 

Ranma had been wrong. This was better.

 

Akane started to move, not really sure what she was doing, but knowing that it felt so good she wanted to cry. Ranma looked up at her, a glazed expression on his face, and she continued to ride him, putting her hands on his chest and arching her back. Ranma groaned out her name hoarsely and started to rub the place where their bodies met, his thumb grazing her clit as she moved. After just a few moments, the sensation was too much and she gasped and came again, her body rocking back and then forward until she fell onto his chest and something popped behind her closed eyelids again.

 

Akane's insides suddenly constricted around him, and Ranma cried out and grabbed her hips, digging his fingers in. She panted and moaned and rubbed his chest and ground her pelvis against him. Her wetness coated his crotch and inner thighs, and he knew she'd come again. “A… Akane…” he grabbed her around the waist with one arm and, on impulse or instinct, rolled her over onto her back and began thrusting inside of her as hard and fast as he dared.

 

Grabbing his hair, Akane wrapped her legs around him. She let go completely. No one was going to make her feel weird or strange or embarrassed ever again, not when it came to this. “Ranma… I love you, I love you so much,” she moaned in his ear and kissed his throat.

 

“I love you too, oh… shit… I'm gonna…” he lusted into her a few more times, and then came hard, wrapping his arms under her shoulders and gripping them for leverage. He bucked against her gently, whimpering slightly and not caring how ridiculous he sounded. Akane made another mewling sound and rubbed her body against his slightly before letting herself relax onto the futon with a breathy sigh.

 

“I'm sticky.” Akane found herself saying dreamily. She was a little sore between her legs, too, but she had sort of expected that. For some reason, she had not expected to be so sticky. Ranma laughed breathily from his boneless position on top of her, only her berserker strength keeping him from crushing her completely.

After a moment, he slowly slipped out of her, carefully holding on to the condom with one hand. He sat on his knees between her legs and looked down at her, and she watched in mild, almost comfortable amusement as his penis drooped in the white sack of the condom. “Y'wanna hit the bath?” he yawned, then blushed and rubbed the back of his head. “What? What is it?”

Akane sat up and hugged him, and he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and hugged her, too. She was crying, she realized, and soft little sobs began to escape her throat. “Oh, no, no, no, please, please don't cry,” she heard the ache in his voice, felt a wetness on her neck as he pressed his face there, knew he was crying too, “please, please Akane, please don't cry. I'm sorry, whatever… whatever I did, I'm so sorry.” His voice was moist and muffled in her neck, and so desperate.

 

He would never touch her again if she just stopped crying. After a few seconds, however, she pulled away and kissed him with quivering lips. “I'm happy, I'm happy,” she said over and over, “don't ever be sorry, I'm so happy.” He sniffled and kissed her again and again.

“I thought—”

“No, never, never, never,” she sighed softly, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” It was so much easier, now, after all that. After everything, it was just so easy to say, he didn't know why he hadn't said it until now.