Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Threads ❯ Side Stitch ( Chapter 2 )

Ryoga followed Nabiki toward the living room, carrying the blanket she’d gotten for him from the linen closet under the staircase. She tossed the pillow she’d carried under her arm onto the couch, and waved her arm around the room. “Your accomodations, sir; breakfast is at eight o’clock, sharp, and the bath should be free after. No fighting with my future brother-in-law,” Ryoga flinched, “oh, and, no sneaking into my sister’s room.” Nabiki smiled acidly.

Looking down at the floor and his bare feet, Ryoga huffed, “When… when did he tell you?” Ryoga asked darkly.

“Oh please, I figured it out ages ago myself. It’s pretty screwed up,” she paused, “but you’ve been gone for a while, since before they went to China. Have a change of heart?” Nabiki asked, sitting down on the sofa, looking for all the world like she wasn’t going anywhere for a while.

Feeling trapped and alarmed, Ryoga twiddled his fingers. “I started to feel guilty,” he mumbled, “why’re you asking me about this all the sudden?” He burst out, gripping the blanket hard in his hands.

Nabiki’s eyes narrowed and she stood, coming to stand close to him. She was nearly a head and shoulders shorter than him, and he could still smell the whisky on her breath. It was not unpleasant. Earthy. She did not look drunk as she glared up into his face and poked him in the chest. “She’s my little sister you creeper!” She hissed, her cheeks turning pink, looking entirely affronted.

Panic welled and shuddered within him, and then he glared back at her, “I’ve seen those pictures you sell to Kuno. Of your own sister? Ranma I can understand, but your little sister?” He did not mention his own… portraits.

Nabiki sneered, “You really think that’s the same?” She scoffed, turning her head to the side.

“And how is it different, exactly?” Ryoga said coldly. “Besides, I ceased my pretending a while ago. When was the last time you sold some panty-shots of your sister to a maniac?”

“You!” Nabiki huffed, stomping her foot, “You’re infuriating! Stubborn! You’re a guest, Ryoga-kun. How dare you speak to me that way. Do you want me to turn you into an appetizer?” She said, again poking his chest, harder this time.

Angry, but aware that he was bigger and stronger than Nabiki, and thus must do more to control his strength, Ryoga took a deep breath. Then, he puffed out his chest and closed his eyes, feeling the noble sense of righteous indignation that was always close at hand. “Thank you for your hospitality, Nabiki-san. I would like to sleep, now.” He said with mustered dignity. He opened his eyes and stared at the crown of her head. Nabiki faced his chest, no longer looking at him, quivering. For a horrifying moment he thought she was crying, the way her shoulders shook. Then she looked up at him again.

She was giggling. Laughing at him. What else was new? That was what people did to Ryoga. They laughed at him. Tired and harangued, Ryoga moved to brush past her to the couch, but she caught his sleeve. Unwilling to break her hold with force, Ryoga looked down at her with a thunderous expression. Her face was transformed by her mirth. Gone was the smirk, the affectation of boredom. The face he saw was lit up by delight. “I can see why Akane-chan and Ranma-kun argue so much. It’s kinda fun,” she smiled at him; he felt his face heat and turned away, “say, you probably won’t be very comfortable down here. Want to come sleep in my room?” She asked innocently.

The floor seemed to tilt under him. The complete turnaround non-sequitur threw him off-balance, and his entire body seized up. Slowly, mechanically, he turned his head to stare at her. “Wh-what? Y-y-your—your room?” He emphasized the possessive.

Nabiki shrugged, examining her nails, a faint color on her cheeks, “Sure, Ranma’s sleeping in Akane’s.” She said slyly, and smirked as Ryoga’s anger broke through.

“What?” Ryoga ground out, his chest heating, his face prickling. “How dare he! I’ll—I’ll—” He flexed his fingers, indecisive. When Nabiki clamped a hand over his mouth, he froze up again. Her hand smelled ever-so-faintly of linen.

“You’ll come up to my room with me.” Nabiki said. Ryoga’s face went nuclear around the contact of her hand, and then she grabbed his wrist and began to lead him away. “I’ve got to keep an eye on you, apparently.” She whispered as they climbed the stairs. Looking at the duck plate with Akane’s name on it, hearing the sounds of soft music coming from under the door, Ryoga felt the urge to run inside and brain Ranma with the heaviest object. But he was helpless against a cute girl, always had been. Nabiki’s insistent tugging was like a spiritual force, and before he knew it, the door to her room was shutting and locking behind him.

Nabiki’s room. He had come in here a few times, when he’d gotten lost trying to find his way to Akane’s. The room was neat as a pin, covered in posters, and smelled like fresh laundry. Ryoga felt large and clumsy in the nice space, and stood in the middle of the room where Nabiki left him. She sat on her bed, crossing one long leg over the other. With a smile, she patted the bed beside her, turning on a small, low light at her bedside.

“Come, sit.” She said when Ryoga did not move. With staccato shuffles of his feet, Ryoga went and sat gingerly on the edge of her bed, as far away from her as he could and still be on the bed. He was sure this was some kind of a trick. Perhaps Ranma’s girl form in disguise? He looked at Nabiki, her sly brown eyes, her pert lips, and the roundness of her breasts, and tore his eyes back up to the crown of her head. “What’s wrong, Ryoga-kun?” Nabiki asked, putting her hand on his shoulder. Had she moved closer?

Ryoga looked down at her eyes, which were looking at his mouth, and swallowed; he felt the bed sink as she deliberately shifted closer, her leg almost touching his. “N-nothing. Well, um, I should sleep.” He said quickly, and tried to stand. The parts of his brain responsible for running away shut down with the force of a train derailment when Nabiki put her hand on his thigh. He sat down with a creaking of the bedsprings.

“Wow, you’re so tense,” she murmured, looking up at him with her shoulder tilted toward her cheek; leaning closer to him, her hand pressed more insistently against his thigh, “are you sure nothing’s wrong?” She asked, that sly smile crossing her lips.

Ryoga felt his face heat further, like there was a button on his thigh that turned on the furnace in his chest. He watched her hand inch upwards toward his groin, and finally found his voice. “Nabiki…! What are you doing—ah!” He cried out when she leaned up and kissed his throat, running her open mouth up to his jawline. Sparks danced across his body, goosepimples rising to his flesh. Other parts of his brain began rapidly shutting off, and the full focus of his attention was on the feel of her mouth.

With her free hand Nabiki reached over and tangled her fingers in the hair at the base of his skull, fiddling with his bandana and drawing him close to her. Capturing his lips, Nabiki Tendo kissed Ryoga Hibiki hard on the mouth. Gasping, his mouth opening slightly, he felt her tongue slide between his lips and closed his eyes, giving over. She tasted… a little earthy, still, but also minty.

Nabiki was an incredible kisser—not that Ryoga had much experience, but he found his toes curling, every other thought he might have about what was happening dying in the face of the raging inferno she lit in his body with her mouth and tongue. She moved her lips over his, guiding him, coaxing him with her movements, sucking on his lower lip before stroking his tongue with hers, stoking the fire in his belly. Briefly thoughts about the other women he pined for, Akane and Akari, rose up like clouds of vapor in his mind, but then Nabiki put her hands on his chest and slowly pushed him down on her bed they evaporated.

Straddling his hips, Nabiki kissed him more forcefully, practically crushing their mouths together. Where their bodies nearly made contact below his waist was very hot, and Ryoga’s eyes rolled back in his head when she settled the juncture of her thighs right on his erection and ground gently against him. He groaned into her mouth, kissing her back more enthusiastically than before, wrapping his large arms around her tiny waist, pressing her breasts flat against his chest. Nabiki tugged her mouth away and laughed breathlessly. “Be careful,” she murmured, mouthing the corner of his lips, digging her nails into his chest, “you’re strong.”

He shuddered and came back to reality. With determination Ryoga went to move her off of his body, to refuse her advances, but Nabiki began to gently suck on his neck and instead of his hands moving to her waist to pry her off, he found himself running his hands up and down her sides, fitting his fingers against her ribcage.

With a slow, sensual movement, Nabiki sat up and began to undo the buttons on her boyish dress shirt. Ryoga was breathing heavily, his broad chest heaving, his eyes wide and staring. He was fairly sure he’d just died on his way to the Tendo’s, probably fell into a manhole and cracked his skull open, and now he was bleeding out in the sewers, because there was no way Nabiki Tendo was opening her shirt and putting his hands on her breasts over her lacy blue bra.

Sighing in pleasure, Ryoga used the gentlest pressure he could to cup her breasts. They were fuller than any he’d been close to, and heavy in his palms. His erection swelled, twitching, and Nabiki rocked on him again, one of her hands holding his wrist, keeping his hand on her breast—as if he would let go—while the other worked his shirt out of the waistband of his pants.

“Wait…!” Ryoga whispered when, arching her wrist, Nabiki began to undo the drawstring on his pants. He stilled her hand with one of his, unwilling to let go of her breast with the other.

Nabiki stared at him, her face a calm mask. “Would you prefer not to have sex with me, Ryoga-kun?” Nabiki asked quietly, neutrally.

Ryoga’s brain, which had tried very hard to reassert its control over his body, abruptly short-circuited. “S-s-s-s—” the word refused to leave his mouth. Nabiki leaned down and kissed him again, mercifully silencing him.

She sat back and worked her hips again, eliciting another groan from him as pleasure ached through his groin. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Ryoga-kun.” Nabiki murmured, her hands running under his shirt to dance across his abdominals, her nails grazing his skin pleasantly, causing one of his legs to kick a little. She giggled. “This could be the beginning of something really stellar, though.”

“Um, I’m, uh—I’m thinking,” he panted, sweat beading in his lower back; Nabiki stopped her sweet, sensuous, torturous movements and he couldn’t help but grip his hands into her hips, sorely tempted to get her moving again, “why are you—why are you doing this, with someone like me? I mean, why—” He shut up when Nabiki put her finger over his lips, not unkindly.

“We can talk about that later,” she whispered, leaning down, “does it matter?” She asked, resting her upper body against his, her breath caressing his face.

Beyond the crown of her luxuriously silky brown bob Ryoga saw the curve of her spine and the sloping rise of her beautiful rear end in her dress slacks. He swallowed.

“Uh…” he began again, unsure what he was going to say; when he looked back into her eyes, sparkling with anticipation, Ryoga felt most of the tension leave him, “uh, no, no it doesn’t.” He leaned up and initiated a kiss for the first time. Nabiki moaned softly in her throat and the sound did something pleasant to his stomach. A knot formed right above the base of his erection.

“How about… I’ll tell you after, depending on how it goes.” She said sweetly when they pulled apart again. Ryoga just stared stupidly at her. Nabiki giggled.

They kissed again, Ryoga running his hands into the open sides of her shirt to touch her back, his fingers shaking when they made contact with her bra. He wrenched them back down to the safe territory of her slender waist. She had put his hands on her breasts before, but he wasn’t sure that she wanted him to do so of his own volition.

Nabiki—Nabiki Tendo, someone he’d spoken to maybe a handful of times—kissed down his throat and started to inch his worn shirt up his torso. Without thinking Ryoga lifted his arms and let her remove the shirt and his undershirt at once. She tossed them carelessly aside, and he unconsciously followed the arc of her hand. Sighing longingly, in a way that made Ryoga’s ego unexpectedly swell, Nabiki ran her hands down his chest and across his navel, tucking her fingers into the waistband of his pants. He jumped, gripping her hips against the sweet torture of her lower body still pressed, hot and inviting, against his groin. The fingers in his trousers were warm, soft.

“Like that, eh?” Nabiki said, and for the first time since she had brought him into her room he saw her cheeks change color. He had never watched a blush appear on a woman’s face. Akari wasn’t one for blushing, and Akane thought he was a pig. Ryoga pushed the thought from his mind. It was rude, to think about other women when Nabiki was reaching into his pants.

Ryoga let out a gasp of surprise when her fingers touched the tip of his penis, and his hips bucked. They tumbled immediately from the bed, Nabiki less balanced than him, and incapable of doing much against the sudden movement of his bulk. At least, as the world tilted and tipped, he managed to roll them so he was still under her when they landed on the floor with a thump, tangled together. His heart was pounding. He could have hurt her if he had fallen atop her.

A heartbeat, and Nabiki started whisper-cackling, Ryoga joining her a second later, his own giggling sounding manic.

“That was loud.” Nabiki whispered, smirking at him and standing, pushing against his chest for leverage. Her hands were hot. For a moment she reached out her hand to help him up, then seemed to think the better of that and merely waited as the heavy young man righted himself. They stood facing each other, the woven spell broken but not forgotten. “Do you want to stop?” Nabiki asked, absently running her foot up and down her opposite calf, her breasts pushed out as she put her hands demurely behind her back and gazed at him through her lowered lashes.

Ryoga did not want to stop. There was a strange feeling inside him and after a moment of self-doubt he realized that he was excited. Not exactly happy, just eager. Never had a woman been like this with him, sexy, sexual, hot for his caress. Akari was chaste. Akane thought he was a pig and was probably in love with Ranma. He shuddered.

The powerful feeling of being wanted surged in him and his hands shook deliciously, not with nerves but with anticipation. Reaching out, he grasped her shoulders and, bending considerably as she was much shorter than him, kissed her once more. This time, he took the kiss further. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, and Nabiki groaned and leaned fully against him, pressing her bra-cupped breasts against his bare chest and rubbing her hand down his side and around to the front of his groin again. Ryoga did not jump this time when she put her hand over his erection through his trousers, but he did freeze up momentarily, leaning into her touch when she began to gently stroke him.

Pulling away from his mouth, Nabiki licked her lips and smiled up at him from under her bangs. For the first moment that evening, he was able to see her flushed face right near his, without shadows or obfuscations. All the Tendo sisters were beautiful. Nabiki’s face was slightly narrower, more foxlike, compared to Akane’s heart-shaped face and Kasumi’s more gentle, softer features. Her nose was longer and sharper, her eyebrows manicured, and her eyes were more angular, and a softer brown, amber. He saw flecks of gold in the iris, and was fascinated by the way her pupils dilated slowly as he watched, adjusting to the dimming of the evening light.

“Ryoga-kun?” She asked, and Ryoga realized he’d been just staring open-mouthed at her face while she rubbed his dick through his pants.

His brain caught up with how good her hand felt. “Aah, oh, uh—that feels—would you like—uh—” His words came out like they’d been run through a shredder and stitched nonsensically back together. He felt a fog roll through his brain as Nabiki’s hand moved more insistently.

“Oh, I would like lots of things from you, Ryoga-kun.” She purred, kissing the hollow of his throat, sucking at the flesh over his collarbone.

“Yeah, but—what should I do?” He asked, feeling out of his depth. His earlier confidence was dwindling as he touched her back and waist with his big, callused hands. Shivering, Nabiki wrapped her arms around his torso and pressed her body against his. Her skin was soft, hot.

“Whatever you want; touch me, kiss me.” Nabiki whispered, kissing his chin.

“Where?”

“Anywhere you want.” And she moved away and sat on the bed, one of her knees bent, her heel resting on the edge of the mattress, the other on the floor. Ryoga stood paralyzed for a moment, as she leaned back, tossing her hair out of her lovely eyes. The motion made her breasts jiggle enticingly.

Ryoga moistened his lips with his tongue, still tasting her, and looked her up and down, his eyes taking her in greedily. His erection was painful, but she’d asked him to touch her, kiss her, not the other way around. A thousand images crossed his brain. On his travels, he had spoken to many different kinds of people, seen sights many people would never see. And he had learned a lot, from wandering, from training to take his vengeance. That being said, there had been little tenderness, little gentleness in such a life. Ryoga had only become familiar with these things at Akari’s farm, and Akane’s arms.

But he wasn’t going to think about them, because there was an absolutely gorgeous woman in front of him, her breasts had been in his hands, and she was starting to look impatient.

Instead he thought about some drawings he’d seen in an Indian temple, anatomy diagrams he’d studied during his training for the Bakusai Tenketsu. Like he was getting ready to pray at one of those temples, he knelt on the floor in front of Nabiki. She gazed down at him in surprise and curiosity, tilting her head to the side in a silent question. With hands that now shook with nerves, Ryoga reached up and unzipped her pants. Grinning, Nabiki giggled and worked her hips out of the slacks with his help excitedly, her motions eager and weirdly adorable, leaving her in her open shirt, bra, and matching lacy blue underwear. He could see the dark curls at the apex of her thighs. His mouth watered.

“Like what you see?” Nabiki murmured coyly, her voice higher-pitched than before. She leaned back on her elbows and spread her legs slightly, her knees quivering despite the confident smirt on her face. “You—ss!” She hissed out a surprised breath when Ryoga leaned his face against her sex and mouthed her through her underwear. Her panties were already moist, hot, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head when she dug her fingernails through his hair.

With his big hands he held her quivering thighs on either side of his ears and worked his mouth and tongue against her body. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing, though he knew anatomically where his mouth was, what he was caressing. However, Nabiki seemed to be enjoying his attention immensely. She was whispering his name and caressing his face and hair. Her body tasted salty and a little sour, that earthiness, and he thrilled at the little squealing noise she made when he increased the pressure of his mouth and tongue on her body.

“Ryoga, will you—will you them off?” She asked. He pulled away, salivating, and stared at her for a moment. Her hand was over her heart, her chest was flushed, and her whole body shook. Ryoga nodded mutely. Hooking his thumbs through the sides of her underwear, he slowly pulled them down her shapely legs, enjoying the rasping sound of the silk, and the chance to graze her skin with his fingers and palms. As he slid the tiny garment off her feet, he found himself kissing and mouthing her thigh, and grinned, unbidden, toothily, when Nabiki groaned in response. He ran his pronounced canines across her jutting hip bone, and she jerked and grabbed his head again.

“Will you lie back?” He asked, kissing the inside of her thigh, watching her face attentively, the confidence swelling. His chest filled with pride and excitement when she nodded emphatically. “Lie down,” he said, his voice more hoarse than he remembered; he enjoyed watching the liquid movements of her breasts as she settled herself on her back, “there, like that.” He whispered, not really sure what he was saying.

He pressed his hand against her quavering body, just above her curls, and dove between her legs with his tongue and lips. The soft, silken flesh parted and he found the exposed portion of the most sensitive part of her, a fan-shaped organ that he knew ways to hit to cause serious damage—his enemy, the target of the Bakusai Tenketsu, the point of much of his training, turned into a girl, after all. He had to cover all of his bases.

Nabiki sounded like she was trying not to sob, and when he looked up as he masturbated her with his mouth, to check that she was not crying, she had her hand fisted against her lips and her chest was heaving. Sucking the small bud into his mouth earned him more nails deliciously scraping against his scalp. He knew she was close; Ryoga was going to bring her to orgasm, and the thought made him push harder against her, made his body tense up with desire. Nabiki’s own body had grown taut as well, her breath coming in short, bursting gasps behind her hand. But he needed to do something more, something else. Unsure but wanting her to come, he cupped his hands under her bottom, just trying to get her sex to stay still against him. He found himself blushing hotly at touching her pert rear despite the very intimate way he was already touching her, and pressed himself harder against her. He actually felt the opening to her sex tighten against his chin, and as she squirmed under his mouth, his thumb slipped into her opening.

Nabiki’s back arched, like a thread was tied to her heart and had been suddenly tugged up, hard. Realization dawned. Ryoga pushed his thumb further inside the hot, wet, clenching space as he continued to suck and lick at the small bud in his mouth. He imagined his thumb as his cock, and pushed more insistently, moving the digit in circles. He knew she was going to come when her body tensed up so much that he actually felt the moment the muscles in her thighs go rock hard, but he wasn’t sure what happened to girls when they did. So when she started to squeak and writhe against his face, he held on, and his imagination ran away with the feeling of her inner walls clamping down on his thumb, rhythmically. He could swear he felt her heartbeat from inside her.

Eventually, though, her body’s movements became slower, less erratic, and finally she laughed breathlessly and gently pried his face away from her center, “Ah—ha, too sensitive!” She whispered, giggling.

Ryoga wiped his mouth on the edge of her bed and stood up. He was hard as a boulder, painfully hard, but not sure what to do next. Slowly and almost clumsily Nabiki sat up. He loved the way her breasts moved when she did that. There was a large wet spot under her bottom, and her face and chest were red as a cherry. Her hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat, and her eyes were darkened, staring at him half-lidded. She looked almost drunk. “You’re gorgeous.” He burst out, then clamped his lips shut on the delicious remembered taste of her, embarrassed for some stupid reason.

The woman favored him with a brilliant, genuine smile. “Wanna try and take off my bra?” She asked cutely.

“Yes.” Ryoga said quickly. With a giggle, Nabiki clambered up her bed on her hands and knees, a little unsteadily, he thought cockily. After shimmying sexily out of her dress shirt, she lay down on her stomach.

Ryoga was transfixed by her shapely rear and strong thighs. Nabiki wasn’t a martial artist, but she obviously kept in shape somehow. Muscles flexed under her skin, muscles he had felt against his cheeks—Had that actually happened?—and as she lifted up her torso to look at him, he liked the way her shoulders and biceps tightened. “Well?” She asked sweetly, a little shyly, he thought.

Eagerly, Ryoga climbed onto the bed and settled his hips over hers. For a moment he had to close his eyes when his erection pressed against her rear, and fought the urge to grind against her. Reaching out, he touched the clasp of her bra, stroking his fingers around her back, liking the way her muscles twitched under the skin. Nabiki shivered and let her head drop. “I knew you’d be good at this.” She murmured, so quietly he almost didn’t hear her.

“Why?” Ryoga whispered, examining the clasp and establishing for himself how it worked.

“Because you pay attention,” Nabiki said, turning her head to the side and eyeing him bashfully, “you always bring the snacks I like.”

He chuckled. He didn’t know why; it was funny, and he was nervous again, even though he’d just had his face buried between her naked legs. “Well, I would prefer you like me.” He said. Finally the clasp came undone under his hands, each side springing away without the tension to hold them together. Nabiki shimmied her shoulders and the straps fell down to her elbows.

Ryoga realized two things. First off, that Nabiki must do a lot of nude sunbathing, because her back was uniformly caramel-colored. Second, that her breasts were even bigger than he thought they were, because he could see them around her ribcage.

“Why do you want me to like you, Ryoga-kun?” Nabiki asked sultrily, trailing a hand down her chest.

His eyes followed her hand. “Because, because—” but he stopped. Because of Akane, he was going to say, but even Ryoga knew that would be a stupid thing to say. He swallowed the rest of the sentence.

However, Nabiki seemed to know what he was going to say, because her expression hardened. “I see,” she said, “do you like me?” She asked, putting a hard edge on the last word and raising a twitching eyebrow.

“Yes!” Ryoga said quickly, and not just because he wanted to see what else she was going to do with him, to him, and what else she would let him do. His stomach sank when she sat further up on her elbows with an irritated expression cast over her bare shoulder. The curve of her spine and the way her body wiggled against his groin made his heart speed up.

“Ryoga-kun, I know you have a crush on my little sister,” Nabiki said dully, resting her chin on her hand, “but you just ate me out so good my body is still tingling, so just do me a favor and shut up.”

“Okay.” He sank down a little, feeling himself deflate, his erection softening.

The mood seemed dour. Nabiki began to roll over, but Ryoga gently touched her shoulders and rubbed them. After a moment, she groaned in acquiescence and lay down, wriggling against her mattress as he rubbed her pliant flesh, digging his thumbs and fingers into her silky skin and stiff muscles. There was a breath where he had to pause because her movements brought back his erection so fast he felt light-headed. Ryoga kept up the massage despite that.

He had trained to hurt the human body, to break it, but that meant he knew how to touch it in a way that felt good, too. Working on her shoulders, Ryoga tried to think of what he could say to understand better what Nabiki wanted from him after this, or a way to make her understand that he wasn’t thinking about another woman, or that tomorrow mattered, or that he cared about… or…

“That feels amazing.” Nabiki murmured, her eyes drifting open. “What about you?”

Ryoga flushed, “Uh, me?” He asking, which was silly given that he was poking her bare rear with the tent in his pants. He was enjoying just touching her the way he was enough that stopping to get himself taken care of was not a high priority.

Nabiki giggled, “Yeah, you,” she reached up and touched one of his hands before slowly turning her body so that Ryoga had to sit up again on his shins to let her face him, “this.” She said throatily, touching the front of his pants again. Ryoga gripped his hands into his pant legs, shivering as Nabiki ran her nails against his abdomen. Trying not to just stare at her full breasts, Ryoga focused on her face, watching her admiring his body, instead.

Once again the confidence that usually eluded him, especially with women, reared itself inside his chest and he found himself unconsciously flexing. He let himself look down at her bare breasts and his heart started racing at the sight of her dark brown nipples, and the dusky tinge of pink on her tanned flesh. His breathing came quicker. He’d made her cum with his mouth and he was staring at her breasts like his eyes were tied to them.

For the third time, Nabiki brought her hands to his drawstring, and this time Ryoga did not want to stop her. He clenched his fists again as she pulled on the string, actually feeling the sensation in his cock. He closed his eyes, suddenly shy, as she tugged the waistband down around his hips and ran her hand over the bulge in the front of his boxers. “Ryoga-kun, it’s going to be hard to do anything about this with you sitting on me.” She whispered.

Ryoga had only moved so fast when fighting Ranma.

He shifted to lay down beside her, marveling at all the naked flesh displayed to him, unable to resist stroking his hand down her flat stomach and across her hips, then back up her waist and across her ribs to her breasts. While he explored, Nabiki helped relieve him of the rest of his clothes, and when they were both naked completely, they lay and stared at one another. “Wow.” Nabiki murmured. “Just… wow.”

“You’re amazing,” Ryoga murmured, and leaned forward to kiss her gently, shy of pressing too close too fast, marveling at how big his hands looked on her body, “you’re so beautiful.” She pursued his mouth with hers, and then made his heart leap out of his chest by pressing her entire body against him. Ryoga groaned into her mouth when his erection slipped between her thighs and rubbed against the wet flesh of her sex. He found himself gripping the sleek musculature of her back, unconsciously rubbing himself against her hot center, mouthing her face and plunging his tongue between her lips. So much naked skin, so hot, so close, so soft, made his brain feel like it was made out of liquid.

Nabiki was not idle. She ran her hands over his back, his shoulders, his biceps, squeezed his erection between her thighs, and grazed his chest with her breasts. Panting, she pulled away from another breath-taking kiss with a sigh and said, “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?” Ryoga asked, drunk on her kisses, trying to recapture the mouth which she needed to answer him.

“Ryoga-kun,” Nabiki laughed out, mewling when he sucked on the skin of her neck, “here.” Gently she prodded his shoulders until Ryoga figured out what she was doing and rolled to lie on his back. He thought they were going to explore more, but suddenly her hand was on his erection, and she had positioned his head at the opening to the center of her body.

Shocked and somewhat alarmed, Ryoga reached out to stop her, holding her hips and staring at her pouting, huffy face; the heat of her so close to his erection seared him, and he had to fight to get words out. “Wh—but you could—should we—what if you—” He sputtered.

“Oh? That?” Nabiki snorted and grinned, “I’m on the pill, Ryoga.” She said.

Without the honorific, his name from her mouth sounded… dirty. He shivered with pleasure at the intimacy. But he also did not know what she meant, and had to ask. “Pill? What pill?”

Nabiki looked at him with a touch of affection, not pity, which would have sent him spiraling into embarrassment. “Birth control—to prevent pregnancy.” She said; he thought she sounded a little shy. “All the Tendo girls are. Daddy’s not that old-fashioned.” She said with her usual confidence.

This information was at first unpleasant to Ryoga. He tried to sort that into his knowledge of Akane and Kasumi, and decided that doing so was going to ruin what was happening in the present. Instead, he relaxed his grip on Nabiki’s hips and ran his hands down her thighs, digging his fingers in with anticipation, and a little trepidation. Nabiki resumed her earlier motions, running his head back and forth over her wet labia. Eyes rolling back in his head, Ryoga almost, almost drove his hips up, bought fought for control. He realized he’d closed his eyes and snapped them open as she sank down onto him.

The feeling was unlike anything he’d ever experienced in his life. As his length disappeared inside her, it felt like she was burning him. The muscles inside her wrapped around him like a throat. His cock pulsed once and Ryoga grabbed her hips again to stop her from moving, just until he could get used to the sensation of her all around him, hot and wet and impossibly tight. He could hardly breathe.

Worried a little that he might hurt Nabiki if he took over, Ryoga let her guide the pace after a few moments of adjusting, the slow slide of their bodies curling his toes and once again emptying his skull of any other thoughts than the woman above him.

“Ryoga…” Nabiki moaned, leaning forward, digging her nails into his chest, “I’ve never done this before.” At this admission, something inside Ryoga’s mind, the part of him that made him feel so incredibly alone, shattered.

With a groan of pleasure and satisfaction, Ryoga used his impressive abdominals to sit up, grinding against her, kissing her breasts, sucking on her fat, brown nipples and enjoying her panting moans across the crown of his head. He wrapped his arms around Nabiki’s back and squeezed gently, meeting her thrusts, not even thinking about the squeak of the bedsprings under them. Her legs kicked out to encircle his hips and she tossed her head back, her breath high and reedy.

All too soon he felt the approaching tension of his own release, but Ryoga wanted to watch Nabiki break apart again. She had been so beautiful, so out of control, so honest. Additionally, he wondered what it would feel like when the woman’s inner walls clamped down on his cock, as they had on his thumb.

Carefully, monitoring his strength, Ryoga pressed a hand against Nabiki’s sternum and lay her back against the tangled sheets. When he trained for the Bakusai Tenketsu, studied the vulnerable points on the human body to learn how to cause the most pain and damage, he hadn’t known it was impossible to use on a person. Ryoga’s anatomy studies had been clinical, focused entirely on the need to extract his righteous vengeance. This knowledge had already helped him to bring Nabiki pleasure that night, and he concentrated all his training again.

Reaching between their bodies, thrusting with smaller motions to keep himself in check, Ryoga pushed his thumb against the part of Nabiki’s clitoris that was visible, pressing the rest of his hand and fingers against the fan of nerves he knew to be under the skin of her vulva.

The face Nabiki made alone was worth all the horrible training Ryoga had undergone: her eyes clenched shut, her chin tilted up. Open-mouthed, panting, she stared at him with such intense focus he actually felt a blush spread across his face. His short, hard thrusts made her breasts bounce pleasantly, and before he knew it she was tightening around him like a vise, her teeth clamping down against her moans. Ryoga tipped over at the first tightening of her body, somehow managing to keep his hand on her most sensitive spot. With his free hand he grabbed her hip and held her against him, grinding their bodies together and groaning as quietly as he could manage. His palm slipped on her sweat, down her thigh to the back of her knee as his cock erupted over and over. “Nabiki…” he ground out, thrusting feebly against her.

Nabiki stared at him with a glazed look in her eyes. Without really thinking about anything but feeling more of her skin against him, Ryoga gathered her up against his chest, lying back to hold her. Recovering more quickly than her, he slipped out of her body with a soft grunt and tucked her against his side while she caught her own breath. Their sweat-slick bodies were practically stuck together, and Ryoga enjoyed the cooler air of the room against his moist skin.

“Ryoga,” Nabiki said softly, yawning, “You gotta stop being P-chan.”

He froze, his entire body prickling with anxiety, going more rigid than he had when Nabiki first touched him. “That’s—it’s not—” He did not know what to say, “I didn’t mean—” His mood plummeted, his body going cold. He sounded like Ranma, he realized in disgust.

Nabiki clutched him, holding him there with her, throwing a leg over his hips and kissing his face, grabbing his chest possessively. “I don’t hate you,” she murmured into his ear, “but it has to stop.” He felt his stomach clench, but her warm, soft body felt so good against him that he found himself heating up again.

“It has—I have.” He said quickly; it was the truth. He had been unable to enter Akane’s bed as P-chan in months. Visiting with Akari had made him feel less and less interested in being a pig, in being treated like a pet. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not who you need to apologize to.” Nabiki murmured, sounding sleepy, her leg and arm tightening against him.

“I know.” He rattled, pushing his nose into her hair. Tired to his bones and yet wide awake, Ryoga sighed and draped his arm across her. Eventually the tension left his body, and his limbs began to feel heavy, like they were filled with warm water.

“So why me?” He said. “After what I’ve done… I mean, why someone like me?” He didn’t mean to sound so miserable, but he feared the risk of being too hopeful just as much as he feared sounding pathetic.

Nabiki yawned hugely, and he was filled with a sudden affection for her that had nothing to do with what they had just shared. There was just something about the Tendo girls. “I’ll be honest with you Ryoga. I don’t really know why. That’s why I didn’t answer you, before,” she stroked her hand down his chest, across his stomach, idly, absently, like they had laid together this way many times, “I don’t really like many people, Ryoga. But I like you. You’re… I dunno. You’re sensitive. You’re sweet. What you did to my sister is pretty bad, though. It surprised me. I would have never expected it, and I pride myself on knowing what the people around me will do.”

“I never—I didn’t look… at her…” Ryoga said lamely, picking at the bedsheet, feeling his cum dry on his cock and hips, “I wasn’t trying to hurt her.” He whispered.

“Ryoga,” Nabiki sighed; he liked the way his name breathed out of her mouth, “how about we make a deal. You apologize to my sister, and do whatever you can to get back in her good graces, and make up for what you did, and we’ll keep doing this.” She grinned toothily at him, then kissed his jaw.

“Y-you want to do this again? With me?” He asked, unable to stop himself from smiling back.

“Absolutely,” she said firmly, her eyes glittering hungrily, “without question.” Nabiki stretched against him, kissing his neck. “That was… way better than I ever expected my first time to be.”

“Won’t Akane-san,” he said, licking his lips; it felt strange to say her name when he was lying naked beside Nabiki, her sister, “be upset with you?”

Nabiki snorted, “Trust me, Ryoga, she’ll be way madder at you,” she reached down the tugged the blankets over them, settling back against him, much to his delight, “now let’s go to sleep. We gotta get up early and get in the furo before anyone else is up.”

“Right.” Ryoga said. For a few minutes he listened to Nabiki breathing. Before the breaths got too long, he said, “Nabiki?”

“Mm?” Nabiki murmured, snuggling closer to him. He smiled stupidly, convulsively. Would he be like this forever?

Looking at the crown of her honey-brown hair, he whispered, “This is the best night I’ve ever had.”

“I know, I’m pretty great.” She yawned and kissed his chest. After a pause, she said, “To be honest, me too. I’ve been lonely… since Mama died.” Her whisper turned high-pitched, thready at the last word.

Ryoga’s chest tightened and he clutched her more firmly against her, “Come closer, here,” he murmured, tugging her up his body and nearly pulling her atop him again; the skin of his neck was wet with tears, “I’ve been lonely, too.”

“Sorry, m’spoiling the mood,” she mumbled, hugging his neck, “this isn’t like me.” She sniffled.

Stroking his hand down her naked spine, Ryoga tried to think of something to say that would bring her comfort, squinting at her dark ceiling. “Nabiki,” he murmured, “where do you go to school?”

“Huh? Oh, Tokyo University.” She answered, confused. “Why?”

“I’ve never been to the city proper.” He said.

Nabiki looked up at him and smiled coyly, her eyes shining, “Oh yeah? Well, I leave tomorrow.”

He perked up, “Oh?”

She looked shyly down at his collarbone, “What about—” He silenced her with a bold kiss.

“I don’t have enough money for a train ticket,” he admitted, “but I could try to visit, somehow.”

Nabiki gave him a wry smirk, “Just because you can find… special places on me,” she said, blushing and causing his own face to heat, “doesn’t mean I have any illusions about your sense of direction. Don’t worry, I’ll get you a ticket. You can repay me.” She said sultrily, then kissed him again.

Ryoga tucked her against him again. Tomorrow might be one of the worst days of his life since he was cursed, but something about having a beautiful, warm, sultry woman squashed pleasantly against his body made him feel a peace he didn’t usually feel. He was… happy.

Grateful that he had been able to stop Nabiki’s tears, Ryoga kissed the side of her head, breathing in the subtle smell of her hair. He knew he was a sucker for a pretty girl, he knew he fell easily, and hard, for women. But Ryoga did a lot of things by feel, especially navigating. When a guy’s life is spent on the road, he has to trust his gut. Slowly, Nabiki’s breathing began to even out, getting longer and longer. Ryoga’s mind was still empty of other thoughts. The usual brooding he found himself doing wrapped up in the softness of the exhaustion of satisfaction. As he drifted off to sleep, Nabiki’s breasts against his ribs, her leg draped across his hips, he was lulled by the soft sound of music from the room next door.