#rankane Christmas fan fiction

[palabraasinnecesarias]

five times ranma didn’t say i love you and the one time he didn’t need to: (this was the time he didn't need to)

ao3 | ff.net | ship: ranma/akane | rating: general audience | words: 8,889

summary

Ranma and Akane throughout their relationship in which they wondered about each other, and the one time they didn’t need to anymore.

a/n: this is JUST the ending part of the longer fic btw [words: 2,331]

“Okay. Okay,” Akane released a deep breath as she closed her eyes, taking a moment to ease her mind and body as she sat with crossed legs atop her bed. “Just walk over to him. Mistletoe over his head, and then kiss him.” Right, as if it were that easy – otherwise she wouldn't be such a nervous wreck.

According to Nabiki, after talking to Auntie Saotome and Kasumi, they were to be wed by Spring. They, being she and Ranma, of course. She was fine with it, had come to terms with the whole situation long ago . All she had asked of her father and Auntie Saotome had been to wait after her university's graduation, which was up coming the following semester; they had fulfilled the end of their bargain by agreeing.  

Naturally, after the misfortunes that came about their last attempted wedding so many years ago, this wedding would be hushed with only immediate family attending. Afterwards, at Auntie Saotome’s insistence, they’d throw a larger celebration to announce the union of both schools and families.  

Ranma had trained all night at the dojo after the rest of their lives had been arranged that evening during dinner, as if it were another checked off task on the to-do list, and she had wondered if he was upset at her. Maybe not at her, but the whole ordeal. But then, it all continued as it was. He’d bump her when racing down the stairs at Kasumi’s call for dinner or battle as to who had first dibs on the bathroom when they’d reach it at the same time.  

But then Nabiki asked, oh, how she had hated that damn question , “Have you two even kissed?” Of course not!

Their relationship had remained so normal, sometimes she’d forget the wedding was actually happening and she’d have to kiss him and live with him and introduce him as her husband. Although, she didn’t have to kiss him, but oh god did she want to. Making herself think about it, she didn’t want their official kiss to be on their wedding night.  

Her cheeks flushed quickly, imitating variant berries as she cupped them, shaking her head embarrassingly just thinking about it – their wedding night.  

Akane jumped slightly at the sudden knock at her door, starling her as she called for them to come in.  

“Hey,” Ranma popped his head in, holding a mug steaming as he offered it to her, “Kasumi sends some hot chocolate. The climate’s dropping and she wants to keep us warm. Considering it’s almost Christmas, she insisted on hot chocolate,” he smirked, inviting himself to take a seat on the bed next to her.  

She could feel the scrambling of her insides jumble and knot within her abdomen when she felt his shoulders press against hers. They were both wearing long sleeves, but nonetheless, their shoulders were touching. She took the mug from his hand, thanking him under her breath as she looked at the chocolate filled mug with a soft smile, feeling like such a child with a crush.

She held a tight grip on the handle, breathing in slowly and then breathing out slower. Just do it. Right? No, that wouldn’t be right. Also, Ranma would stop it before she even got close to him, considering his agility. Bad plan. Bad idea. She chewed her lower lip nervously. 

“Everything alright?” His sudden inquiry pulled her out of thought, and she glanced up at him with one raised eyebrow.  

“Uh, yeah. Why wouldn't it be?” 

“Well, for starters,” he sighed rubbing his shoulder against hers, such familiarity cozying her further, and her smile only widen, “you have hot chocolate and haven’t taken a sip.”

He had noticed her distracted face as soon as he had walked in, unable to mask it as quickly as she would have wanted, and he was curious. Worried, too, but she didn’t need to know that.   

“What if I wasn’t craving hot chocolate?” She joked with a cocked eyebrow, lifting the mug slowly to her lips to take a slow taste as to test how hot it was.  

“You’re a dork.” 

She only grinned.  

Half done with her mug, Akane placed it on her desk, adjusting herself comfortably to be facing him rather than sitting sideways. They had sat together for quite some time, chatting, and one topic led to another and now they were discussing how pressing and overindulged his mother was. Something she was glad they could both agree on.  

“If it was up to your mom, we’d be getting married tomorrow,” Akane grinned at the absurdity of it all. It felt incongruous sitting together knowing they’d to be married in just four months when they hadn’t even officially kissed yet . Yet impling that the moment was to come, and what better time than the present, right? She knew she shouldn’t be thinking about it, their nonexistent kiss, but he was right there and she was sitting so close. She could just lean foward, and maybe he’d allow it.

Maybe he wanted to kiss her, too.  

Her laughter decreased softly, clearing her throat as she watched the pigtail wearing man drag the palm of his hands up and down his face with seemingly frustration.  

“I know, I know,” he replied, a sigh of his own before looking over at her, noticing the intense stare she was offering. One that told him she was thinking about something, brewing an idea, but wasn’t quite sure how to drag it out of her. “You sure there isn’t anything ya’ wanna talk about?” He tried again, shimming at her side, hoping his persistence would get him just a bit further.  

“Well,” she pursed her lips, glancing to the left and then to the right, as if pondering about something so nonessential, like an outfit she’d sport to a classmate’s holiday party.  

Shut up. Shut up. SHUT UP.   

“Well?”  

And then he watched her lean towards her desk, watched her open the top drawer and pull out a plant of some sort, as she held it delicately. And then she brought it towards, spreading her palm as the small stem laid on her flat hand in between them, watching him stare at it.  

“I was thinking...and I think we should...?” She gulped the inventible lump clogged at the back of her throat not letting her finish her question as Ranma’s eyebrows furrowed together, curious as to what she was getting at.  

“Should what?” 

Akane groaned mildly, an eyebrow of her own twitching at his ignorance, “You’re really going to make me say it?” Irritation was getting the best of her, but mainly because she already found this embarrassing enough.  

But they were to be married; they were to share a lifetime of embarrassing moments, right?  

“Kiss.”  

She blinked a few times, staring at the mistletoe laying on her palm, like that was the kiss itself.  

“Kiss?” He repeated, and this time she looked up to find him pondering, tapping his index finger against his chin and she couldn’t help but chuckle at just how dumb he looked.  

“We don’t have to,” Akane sighed, pulling away, but almost instantly both of her wrists were gripped and tugged forward by Ranma’s hands, and suddenly she forgot how to breathe.  

Ranma must have yanked her a tad too hard because she was now only centimeters away from his face, and she could see his light eyes scanning about her face as she tried to keep herself calm. His messy fridge just reached his nose bridge, and easily caught a whiff of her floral shampoo on him. 

“You want to kiss me?” He asked, and that was enough to knock her out of her daze. It wasn’t a lie, but she figured his question was coming from his egotistic self, rather than curiosity.  

“I was saying,” Akane continued, gently trying to push herself away but not successfully releasing the grip of his hands around her wrist, “maybe it’d be a good idea to kiss now,” she swallowed as Ranma softly tugged her once more, “rather...rather than wait...for the...wedding.”  

“Okay.” He breathed in, his half-lidded eyes watching her carefully. His voice was low, and she almost missed his verbal agreement at how distracted she was by his eyelashes pulling her in.  

“Okay?” It was that easy?   

“Y-yeah,” he stammered, his face so close that the tip of their noses skimmed faintly, “if ya’ wanna.”  

“Do you...do you want to?” Her voice was so delicate, it seemed, hushed as she waited for his answer. The question itself was insecure, and full of hope, and could easily break her. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to ask so early, but rather two months before the wedding. The thought itself sounded so absurd in her mind, she wanted to laugh.  

“I mean, I don’t mind if ya’ don’t,” he answered truthfully, and she scanned his face for any sarcasm, any disgust, and malice, but there was none. He watched her in wonder, with curiosity, making her feel dainty.  

“I don’t mind.” She replied quickly.  

And then she closed her eyes waiting for him, and he looked down at her, taking an extra moment to take in all the soft features of her round face with her glowing cheeks and curved nose. The hold around her wrist lessened, and instead he pushed his palms higher around her lower arm, as if to ground himself before kissing her.  

It was timid, the way he brushed his lips against hers; like feathery light touches, almost tentative about kissing her. But then he pushed just a tad further into her, and his hands lightly squeezed her arms. It felt good. He figured he was supposed to pull away after just one kiss, but he found himself wanting to continue kissing her.  

And maybe she did, too, because he caught the way her mouth opened just a bit when he pushed for another. It was slow, and very new, but there was a tingling sensation vibrating from his mouth down his neck and up his face that kept him wanting more. It was a good new.  

Her lips were softer than he’d imagine they’d ever be (not that he thought about her lips often), and as he continued kissing her, they were beginning to burn, in a good way; in a great way.  

He could feel her hands reach for his face, each fingertip almost stinging as they pressed onto his cheeks, easily melting against his skin. Had he known that kissing Akane felt this good, he would have done it a long time ago. Her palms smoothed across his skin towards his ears, dragging themselves down to settle on his neck, edging him to pull her closer.  

This was supposed to be a chaste kiss, right?  

He felt her nudge away momentarily, and he took that as a sign to pull away instantly because otherwise he wouldn’t. And when he did so, it took him a moment to open his eyes to look down at her already gazing up at him. She was breathing heavily, as was he, and her lips were reddish, like cherries. And she looked so beautiful, and he could admit that to himself and to her if she wanted to hear it.  

And then she laughed a breathy laugh, one that kept her smile intact with a toothy grin, her eyes searching his as she found herself compelled to say, “That was a good kiss.”  

Ranma chuckled, not sure why they found the situation amusing, but nonetheless refreshing. “Good.” He could feel the warmth easily diminish as she pulled her hands away from his skin, and he went to catch them, holding her hands in between his, “Are we...can we...?” 

Akane’s eyebrows pricked up at his unfinished question, allowing him a moment before she asked, “Do you want to kiss me again?” This time it was her egotistic-self rubbing it on his face, but she couldn’t help but find herself suddenly so sheepish.  

He knew she could see his ruddy face as soon as she was done asking, but man, did he want to kiss her that way again if she’d let him.  

“Ain’t that the sort of thing people do when they’re in love?” His question had been rushed out, in an attempt to remedy his embarrassment, with pure genuity. And then he heard himself ask it. “What I mean–”  

“Ranma,” Akane giggled, her hands pushing strands of hair away from his face, her touch very soft and tender as she looked at him, “you can kiss me any time you want.”  

“Any time?”  

She nodded slowly; a sly grin plastered on her face as she leaned closer to him, enough to peck him into another kiss, had he pushed himself forward.