Work Text:
Mousse stretches his arms as he steps out from the storage room, the door creaking shut behind him. His shift is finally over, and he has been counting down the minutes. Adjusting his glasses, he stifles a yawn and heads toward the counter, only to halt mid-step. Sitting in a booth near the window, Ranma — a very female Ranma at that — is attacking a towering parfait with single-minded determination. His red hair catches the light, and he is wearing a pale blue summer dress. Even with Mousse's poor vision and the distance, he can tell it is an ill-fit from the way it stretches across his chest. He wonders if Ranma has "borrowed" it from Akane.
Curious and seeing an opportunity to annoy the other, he marches toward Ranma’s booth, stopping abruptly beside the table. “What are you doing here?” he demands.
Ranma jolts, the cherry on his spoon falling back onto his half-eaten parfait. Ranma looks down at it with a pout. “Me?” he says before taking another bite. “Why are you here?” he counters.
“I work here,” Mousse returns. Ranma starts to frown, and Mousse decides he is not going to let the other flip the table and turn this into an interrogation of him. He points at Ranma's bust. “That dress doesn’t fit you,” Mousse remarks. “And why are you eating that?”
Ranma scoffs, slamming his spoon into the glass with more force than necessary. “So what? And there’s nothing weird about girls eating parfaits,” he says defensively, emphasizing the word “girls” like it is some kind of retort.
Mousse raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Sure,” he says flatly. “Except you’re not really a girl, are you?”
Ranma flushes, though whether it is from annoyance or embarrassment, Mousse can’t tell. “I just felt like having one, okay? Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Whatever you say,” Mousse mutters, crossing his arms. “So why the dress? Don’t tell me you’re playing dress-up now.”
Ranma rolls his eyes. “It’s Akane’s,” he grumbles, poking at the parfait with his spoon. “I figured it would all be easier if I just played the part.”
Mousse stares at him for a moment longer, unsure how to respond. He is tempted to push the issue further, but something about Ranma’s guarded expression gives him pause.
“Well,” Mousse says after a beat, his tone softening. “You look ridiculous.”
Ranma snorts, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, it’s not like I care what you think.”
Mousse hesitates before shrugging. “Fair enough.”
Turning to leave, he stops when Ranma’s voice calls him back. “Wait, when did you start working here anyway?”
Mousse glances over his shoulder, tightening his grip on the tray he is carrying. “A few months ago. My grandmother’s sick, so I’ve been sending money back home to help out. Can’t be there, so this is the best I can do.”
Ranma’s spoon freezes mid-motion, and his expression softens. “Oh. Sorry to hear that. Sounds rough.”
“It is what it is,” Mousse replies, shrugging stiffly.
Finishing his parfait off in a couple of gobbling, unladylike bites, Ranma springs up from the table. "I'll walk out with you," he says. "Just lemme pay."
That is the last thing Mousse wants. However, he doesn't know how to turn down his offer. Reluctantly, he follows Ranma to the register. His coworker, another teenage boy about his and Ranma's age, lifts his brows when he sees them approach. "Hey, Mousse," he says. His eyes drift to Ranma and then to Ranma's chest. "…And Mousse's girlfriend?"
"No," he and Ranma both refute firmly with disgust.
His coworker blinks. "Ah," he says as his ears turn red.
Mousse sighs. "Ranma wanted to leave with me but still needs to pay. It was a berry parfait he had."
"Oh, sure!" the other teenager agrees, probably still too flustered to notice that Mousse is using male pronouns for Ranma. "That will be 900 yen."
Ranma alarms both Mousse and his coworker by pulling a 1000 yen note from between his breasts. "Here," he says.
"T-Thank you," stutters Mousse's coworker. Quickly making change, he gives it to Ranma. "Have a good day you two."
Mousse nods. As he and Ranma leave, he chides the other teenager. "What was that? Taking the money from between your breasts! Have you no shame?"
"What?" grumbles Ranma, defensively. "It's not like this dress has pockets."
Mousse can barely believe what he is hearing. "There is no way Akane didn't have a purse you could steal."
Ranma scoffs and starts to walk quicker. Unbidden, Mousse notices just how short the skirt of Ranma's dress is as it flutter around his creamy thighs. There is no way he is wearing shorts under that dress. Mousse would see the hem of them right now if it were the case. His cock twitches in his pants. Ranma had no problem reaching between his breasts for money. Would he also have no issue wearing not underwear while in a dress?
Before he can think better of it, Mousse lifts the back of Ranma's dress. To his disappointment, he finds Ranma's pert ass is covered by a pair of pale pink panties. "Oof!" he grunts seconds later as his cheek begins to sting from a slap.
Blinking down at Ranma, he sees the other's face is red and a scowl adorns his lips. "What. The. Hell," hisses Ranma.
Mousse glowers. "Can you blame me for checking?" he demands. "After what you just did in the café?" He gestures at Ranma's breast. "Even your dress is indecent too! It's like you want to make a show of yourself to men!"
Ranma's scowl dissolves into a wobbling lip. Mousse can hardly believe what he is seeing. Panicked, he says, "Look, I'm sorry. I should have asked instead of being a— a—"
"Pervert?" Ranma supplies.
He clenches his teeth but nods.
The other boy sighs. "I'll consider the purse thing," he says. "As for a better dress…" he shrugs. "I wouldn't even know where to start to be honest." He plucks at the fabric of Akane's dress. "For being such a tomboy, Akane actually knows how to dress really cute." He grimaces. "I don't wanna ask for her help picking out something for me though…"
That, Mousse can understand. That would probably lead to quite a few questions Ranma had no interest in answering. Feeling a little bad, Mousse runs a hand through his hair and considers doing something quite stupid. Oh, what the Hell.
"You and Shampoo share a more similar build," he points out. "I have a couple of her dresses I've been mending at my place. I could give you one and say it was beyond repair to her."
Ranma blinks. "You fix her clothes?"
Mousse nods and looks away, feeling a little embarrassed. "She's an excellent girl but doesn't have patience for sewing. I, however, do."
The other hums. Then, with a smile, grabs Mousse's hand. "Lead the way," he demands. "Let's see if any of them will work."
-o0o-
Arms crossed, Mousse watches as Ranma steps out of the toilet, clad in one of Shampoo’s qipao dresses. A smug grin plays on Ranma’s lips as he does a slow turn, admiring himself. “Fits pretty good, right?” he asks.
Mousse grunts. It does fit— Almost too well. The cut and fabric accentuates Ranma's assets in a way that makes the crotch of his pants uncomfortably tight. The only flaw is the color: a soft yellow that doesn’t quite complement Ranma’s complexion. Still, it isn’t bad enough to insist he try the other dress hanging over the footboard of Mousse’s bed.
Ranma shifts, lifting a leg and kicking out. “Wow, this slit really allows for great movement!” he burbles.
Mousse’s gaze flickers to the exposed curve of Ranma’s hip, the milky skin catching the dim light. He swallows hard, heat creeping up his face, and quickly looks away. No doubt the other shed his panties in the toilet when he put on the dress. There's no way he wouldn't be catching a glimpse of pink cotton otherwise.
Ranma puts down his leg and turns to him. "I can really keep this?" he asks Mousse.
He swallows. "Yes," he says. "On one condition."
The other cocks his head. "Oh?" he replies.
Mousse, mouth dry, croaks. "Show me your panties again," he orders.
Ranma's face goes bright pink. "Pervert!" he cries.
He leers. "You can't be that outraged," Mousse needles. "You had no problem showing my coworker your cleavage today."
"I-I didn't," stutters Ranma. "I mean, it's not like I did it on purpose!"
Mousse scoffs, rolling his eyes. He turns his attention to the other dress hanging off of his bed, a soft aqua-blue number that would look very good on Ranma. He grabs it, holding it up for inspection. "I'll tell you what," he says, a sly smile on his face. "I'll give you this one too." He runs his thumb over the smooth fabric, his eyes never leaving Ranma's. "It's your color, after all."
The other looks away. "I'm not wearing my panties right now," he whispers.
He bites back a groan. "Oh?"
Pulling his lip between his Ranma nods.
"That's okay," replied Mousse, trying very hard to sound casual. "You could go put them on or—"
Ranma glances at him. "Or?" he echoes when Mousse doesn't continue.
Quietly, he suggests, "You could show me your cunt."
For a split-second, Ranma looks like he just might punch Mousse right between the eyes. Then, his expression steels and he nods. "I'll get both dresses?" he probes.
Mousse stifles a smile. "Yes," he agrees.
Ranma closes his eyes tightly. "Okay," he breathes.
His jaw all but drops as Ranma draws aside the front of his qipao to reveal a little bush of bright red curls sitting above a small cleft. He clenches his hands to stop himself from petting it. Eyes fixed on Ranma's cunt, he asks, "Have you ever touched yourself?"
"W-What kind of question is that?" stutters Ranma as the front of the dress slips out of his hands and hides his curls from Mousse's sight once more. He barely resists pouting.
Crossing his arms, Mousse glowers. "A normal one," he asserts. "If I turned into a girl like you do, I would be curious what it feels like."
Ranma squirms. Mousse raises his brows. He supposes the silence is answer enough.
"Have you considered letting a man touch you?" he inquires, taking the smallest step forward as he does.
Vigorously, Ranma shakes his head. "No!" he denies.
"It wouldn't be odd if you did," Mousse offers calmly, cock aching. "I even imagine it would feel good."
The other tries to turn away from him. "Doesn't matter," he mutters.
Mousse closes the distance between them and wraps himself around Ranma. Initially, he tries to fight him. Mousse holds fast and makes sure to press his hardening penis into Ranma's ass. "What if I promised to answer all of your questions and then never bring it up again?" he whispers into the other teenager's ear.
Ranma stops fighting. Trembling ever so slightly, he asks, "Never bring it up to anyone?" he whispers.
"I swear," he promises.
In response, Ranma goes lax in his arms. "Okay," he says.
Euphoric, Mousse lets loose a cackle and sweeps Ranma up into a bridal carry. Unsurprisingly, the other shrieks and instinctively wraps his arms around Mousse's neck. He grins down at his blushing nemesis and carries him over to his bed. Dropping Ranma onto it, he watches delightedly as he bounces on the mattress.
Ranma looks up at him, expression uneasy, and hands balling in the covers of his bed. Mousse doesn't let it bother him and pulls off his shirt. When he does, Ranma hunches his shoulders and blushes anew. Mousse grins, pleased at Ranma's cute reaction to his chest. He then taps at his chin and considers how he wants to approach exploring Ranma's cunt. He licks his lips and an idea comes to Mousse.
He'll start with his mouth. Since he first began to think about girls, he had been wondering just how they tasted. Nodding to himself, Mousse sinks to his knees.
"Mousse," Ranma murmurs nervously.
Mousse doesn't look at the other's face. "Shh," he soothes as he moves to push the skirt of Ranma's dress aside to once more reveal his cunt. Before Mousse can grasp the soft yellow fabric of the qipao, he is made to look up when tentative fingers twist into his hair.
Ranma stares down at him with an uneasy expression. He sighs partly impatient, partly to ease the tension building in his belly. "You'll like this," he promises Ranma.
The other's hand in his hair eases out. He smirks, feeling quite triumphant. Though it's short-lived. Mousse doesn't know if Ranma will like what he has in mind. Hopefully, he's right.
Mousse doubts Ranma will be forgiving if he's wrong.
A little less eager, Mousse returns his attention to the skirt in his hand. Pushing it up over creamy thighs, Mousse settles the skirt just over the top of Ranma's hips. A feeling of anticipation washes over him at the sight of pretty red curls crowned above Ranma's cunt.
His cock throbs inside his pants as he licks his lips. Mousse drags his fingers slowly down over Ranma's flesh, leaving a line of goose pimples in their wake. At last, he sinks his fingers into the meat of Ranma's upper thighs and opens him for his eyes to feast upon.
Mousse is captivated by Ranma's vagina, which is surprisingly small and nestled between the soft folds of his inner labia. He leans in, taking a deep breath.
The scent is unfamiliar, unlike anything he's experienced before. It's different, and he's not sure what to make of it. Even with a full view of Ranma's cunt, he's not quite hard enough to fuck him without risking embarrassment.
Cautiously, Mousse parts his lips and presses an open-mouthed kiss just above Ranma's vagina. Ranma jerks in surprise, clearly not anticipating the kiss.
Mousse smirks to himself, feeling a surge of inspiration. He runs his tongue from the bottom of Ranma's cunt to the top. Ranma's voice is tight as he gasps, "Mousse."
The breathy sounds go right to Mousse's cock. Now raging hard, he lets go of Ranma's thighs. "I need out of my shorts," he explains. Even as he tears out of the rest of his clothes, he can't help but be distracted by his mouth watering at the taste of Ranma on his tongue.
He had planned to enter Ranma as soon as he was hard, but the urge to taste more of him is too strong to resist. Grabbing Ranma's thighs again, he runs his tongue up and down Ranma's slit, eliciting moans that make his own dick twitch with need. He has to pause and squeeze the base of his shaft to keep from cumming too soon.
Regaining control, he starts to explore Ranma's most intimate places with deliberate intent. He sucks and rolls Ranma's inner labia between his lips, delighting in the way Ranma squirms and the way the flesh responds to his touch, plumping up with blood. He can feel Ranma's arousal coating his chin, and the realization that Ranma is soaking wet from his actions makes him want to laugh in disbelief. He didn't realize girls could get so wet from so little!
"Ah!" Ranma cries.
Mousse startles back as Ranma's hand appears. Looking up at the other, he sees his cheeks are flushed a deep red and his eyes are not quite focused. Even so, Ranma brings his fingers between his lower lips and lifts the hood above his labia with a finger. "Here," he says. "That's what felt the best."
Mousse doesn't need to be told twice. Diving back in he takes to sucking the hood of Ranma's vagina as he rolls his tongue over the spot Ranma so helpfully brought to his attention.
Ranma bucks. It's only Mousse's grip that keeps him flat on his bed. Ranma whines and begins to blather a litany of senseless curses and his name. His dick hurts from the sound of Ranma's wanton pleasure.
Mousse knows he could get on top of Ranma now and pound into him if he wanted to. However, Mousse is actually enjoying the act at hand. Holding Ranma down as he sobs for Mousse to finish him lights up a part of his brain he never even knew existed.
While continuing to pleasure Ranma with his tongue, Mousse risks letting go of one of Ranma's thighs to move his hand, now slick with Ranma's arousal, to his entrance. His index finger easily slips inside Ranma's tight, wet hole.
Ranma wiggles slightly but doesn't protest, his cries growing more intense and frequent. Confident that Ranma is close to orgasm, Mousse begins to finger him, marveling at the warmth and softness that envelops his digits. He adds a second finger, the wet sounds of his movement filling the room and making him suppress a moan of his own desire.
Eager to feel Ranma clench around his cock, Mousse pushes his fingers as deep as they will go, curling and twisting them to hit all the right spots. He's captivated by how Ranma's inner walls stretch to accommodate him, clenching and releasing with each movement. He pulls his fingers out only to thrust them back in, setting a relentless pace.
Ranma's body tenses suddenly, and he lets out a loud cry before a shudder runs through him, and he collapses onto the bed, spent. Mousse withdraws his fingers and his mouth, leaning back to observe Ranma's post-orgasmic bliss.
The other is laid out prone on the bed, sweaty, and panting. His expression is unfocused and a little slack. Mousse grins, feeling quite proud of himself. He made Ranma cum from his tongue and fingers alone.
Eagerly, he stands up and takes hold of Ranma's knees. He pushes them up near Ranma's hip and spread's his legs wide so that his eyes can feast upon his puffy cunt.
Mousse huffs. His glistening hole is unfairly hot. Shifting his stance, Mousse lines himself up with Ranma's cunt and presses inside Ranma.
As he does, he watches Ranma's mouth fall open and his eyes flutter. "You're so big," he says.
Mousse laughs, pleased. He knows he's not actually that big but it strokes his ego all the same. Buried inside of Ranma, he takes a shuddering breath as Ranma's walls spasm around him.
"Oh, fuck," he curses.
Ranma whimpers in return.
Pulling out, Mousse thrusts back inside; it elicits a high cry from Ranma and for him to arch his back. Mousse can't help but stare at Ranma's heaving breasts. His nipples stick out starkly from the fabric of Shampoo's dress.
Unbidden, his hands are drawn to his breasts. Undoing the fasteners that hide them from his sight, Mousse draws out Ranma's breasts and squeezes the white globes. Ranma whines as his thumbs brush over his pretty, pink nipples.
The sound goes right to his dick. Repositioning, Mousse sinks back into Ranma as he captures Ranma's parted lips in a sloppy kiss. Pumping in and out of Ranma, he twines his tongue with Ranma's and swallows his many breathy whimpers and mewls.
Mousse grunts when he feels Ranma shift and then one of his heels dig into the small of his back. His dick throbs as it's pushed deeper inside of Ranma's hot cunt. Instinctually, he thrusts his hips forward.
Ranma tears his mouth from his and yells, "Mousse!" in his ear as his inner walls squeeze around his cock.
Tipped over the edge himself, Mousse, curses, "Shit." As stars shoot across his vision, the coil in his belly is released and he can feel his cum spilling from his cock and filling up Ranma.
Collapsing forward, he brackets his arms on either side of Ranma and stares into his red, dazed face as he slowly comes down from his own orgasm. When he has his bearings, he carefully slides out Ranma. He looks down at the other's cunt and is tickled when he sees a small trail of his cum dribble out.
Ranma wriggles and groans. "Tha's so weird," he murmurs.
Mousse hums noncommittally as he moves to position himself beside Ranma. Once next to him, he slides his arms around his waist and pulls him flush against his chest. Mousse then positions them so they're laid out on his bed, his back to the room and Ranma's face to the wall.
Still heady from fucking Ranma, he puts his hand on Ranma's thigh and slides his fingers forward, petting the even more sensitive inner side.
Ranma shivers against his chest. He traces his teeth over the nape of Ranma’s neck, savoring the way his skin responds— Warm, sensitive, just on the edge of yielding.
“If it’s so weird,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, “perhaps you just need to get used to it.”
His fingers tightened around Ranma’s thigh, feeling the heat beneath his palm, the tension in soft flesh. The weight of the moment presses between them, thick and charged.
“What would you say to another round after a nap?”
Ranma stiffens slightly, hesitation flickering across his features before he forces out a smirk. "Sure, if you think you'll be up by then."
Mousse growls and gives Ranma's thigh a pinch. The other teenager yips. "Don't you worry, I'll be more than ready to make you scream my name again."
"I didn't scream it," Ranma denies.
He laughs and squeezes Ranma close. "Whatever you say," he snorts.
"I didn't!"