This story is the result of the RRyaoi license plate challenge. The challenge was to look around at the license plates of cars and come up with a pairing based on the letters on a plate. The numbers also had to be used in the story somewhere. The license plate I saw was DRR-225, and this is what I came up with.
Warning! This story is a lemon, m/m, with disturbing implications. Disclaimers at the end.
Surrogate
Ryoga was lost. At the moment, he didn’t care. He could think about the implications of this disturbing situation later. Right now, all he knew was that he had found a small piece of unexpected torturous heaven in this unfamiliar region that he had been wandering in for weeks.
A soft groan escaped his lips, and Ryoga tipped his head back to give better access to the lips of the young man who was slowly kissing away the sweat that had accumulated in the shallow where his neck met his shoulder. The air around them was hot and close, enveloping their paired nude bodies like a close blanket, wrapping around them in intimate caress. Ryoga’s strong slender fingers wandered their way through his partner’s spill of ink black hair, eventually tracing an urgent path to the pig tail that felt silky and knobby beneath his touch. Questing lips trailed down his chest, and a warm tongue lightly teased around his nipple.
"Ranmaaaa . . . " Ryoga groaned heavily, feeling a quickening weakness shoot through his joints at the very feel of the other young man’s talented tongue and massaging hands. Sapphire eyes sparkled at him briefly from the shadowy depths of the alcove bed, their shine mimicking that of the satin bedclothes beneath them. The pig tailed youth didn’t say anything, but hints of the cocky smile that Ryoga knew and loved so well played around his lips.
Ryoga caught a soft sob in his throat, body tensing as that ebony head ducked and the faint smile wrapped itself around his straining member. Oh Kami-sama! It all felt so real! So perfect! Just as Ryoga had always dreamed . . .
The beloved and cursed name came from between Ryoga’s lips once again, hardly articulate enough to be called a proper word. He tightened his hold in the soft hair, not exactly guiding the young man’s head, but holding on nonetheless as the warmth of that mouth became his entire world and a softly firm tongue licked in maddening spirals up and down the length of his shaft. The Lost Boy tensed and strained, hips hiking his erection deeper into his partner’s mouth, the throbbing head of his cock brushing the back of the offered throat.
The pig tailed boy drew him in entirely, accepting Ryoga’s thrusts deep into his mouth with the same faint smile and twinkle in his open eyes. His writhing companion took no notice of this, wouldn’t have cared to see it even if he had, for fear of shattering this tormenting illusion. As he felt his climax coming to him, shaking him apart from the inside out, Ryoga’s hands lifted from that tousle of hair and flailed uncertainly in the air for a moment, before dropping to cling tightly to the sheets underneath him. His partner swallowed reflexively as he tried to bring even more of the Lost Boy’s tensing cock into his throat, and began to hum softly, sending ticklish vibrations through Ryoga’s entire body.
That was as much as he could stand. Tears that were one-third pleasure and two-thirds bitterness ran from his tightly closed eyes as his body clenched and he cried out a strangled version of his rival/best friend’s name, as he lost his control and came almost violently into the offered throat of his partner. The sound of his climax quickly degraded into a low vicious growl as shame began to flood Ryoga even before he had completely finished his orgasm.
There was stickiness, as the receiver couldn’t quite swallow all of Ryoga’s starchy juices, and some spilled out onto the Lost Boy’s stomach. Neither really noticed. Licking his lips, that same twinkling gleam in his jewel-like eyes, the pig tailed youth slowly slid himself back up the length of his companion’s body, fingers tracing a walking path over firm trim muscles and smooth wind-tanned skin. Ryoga turned his head to one side, his expression pained and introverted.
Damn it. Damn it all.
Further tears rose and fell. Painful sobs built in Ryoga’s chest, and he tried to hold them back, he really did, but it was almost impossible. They erupted, fueled by the brutal unfairness of this entire situation. With a fearsome snarl of self-loathing and fury, Ryoga slammed his fist against the inside wall of the alcove bed, splintering the wood violently.
"CURSE YOU, RANMA!!" he screamed.
Eyes widening in fear, the other young man in the bed shrank back, and a strangely high-pitched whimper came from his throat.
The curtains on the other side of the bed snapped open unexpectedly, and a young girl glared in at the pair, large shining eyes snapping with anger. Despite her obviously young age, which was only emphasized by the large fluffy pony tails on either side of her head, the stern expression on her face left no doubt that she was obviously a force to be reckoned with. She really didn’t seem surprised to find the two young men nude, sticky and sweaty, but she did glower rather heatedly at the hole in the wall.
"All right," she growled, jerking her thumb over her shoulder in a ‘get out’ gesture. "That’s enough. I don’t think you should do this anymore, Ryoga. It was fine for awhile but you’ve been at it for . . . " she checked her wristwatch with a scowl, then twisted her arm around so that the Lost Boy could see the blinking numbers of the stopwatch function.
Two hours and twenty five minutes.
He groaned lowly, a flush spreading throughout his entire body. Perhaps he had gotten a little caught up in this fantasy . . . but it had seemed so damn real . . . so good . . . so . . .
"Gomen nasai, Duplica . . . " he muttered bleakly, pushing himself up into a supported half-sit, running a shaking hand through his damp and disheveled hair. "I’ll fix the wall . . . "
The girl’s expression softened and she sighed softly. This young man had been more trouble than he was really worth ever since he had wandered into her little theater a few days previously, tired and hungry. She had been happy enough to feed him and let him rest up and was pleased when he offered to do some work around the place to repay her. He seemed to be a good person at heart, though he did have a rather unpredictable and violent temper. She liked him, especially in his quieter moments when he forgot about his life for a short time and let himself smile. That beautiful expression on his face seemed capable of lighting up even the most stormy day.
"It’s all right, Ryoga," Duplica told him gently. It was painfully obvious that this poor wanderer suffered from some very serious emotional scarring, and if she could help him in some small way, then it would be worth the occasional property damage he caused. But, she had to admit that she found his quirk just a bit disturbing . . .
With a calming smile that hid her discomfort, she held her arms out to the pig tailed boy who was still crouched silently beside the distraught nomad, sapphire eyes still sparkling, though now with a bit of reserve. "It’s just that you’re scaring Ditto. You know he doesn’t like it when you get upset."
Ryoga watched, biting his lower lip as the Ranma-clone purred brightly and reached out to fit himself into the offered shelter of Duplica’s embrace. As he did, his familiar and beautiful bishounen features melted steadily, and the slender lithe body that Ryoga had been guiltily enjoying for two and a half hours shifted into that of a purplish blob, moving fluidly into Duplica’s arms. She hugged the shape-shifting pokemon tenderly, planting a loving kiss on its jelly-like cheek.
"Ditto!" it chirped happily, turning toward Ryoga with smiling eyes that were no longer the beautiful sapphires that tortured the Lost Boy so. Looking away, he heaved a sobbing sigh from his chest and sank back into the bed, curling around himself and trembling beyond control.
None of it was real . . . Ditto was a pokemon and not the boy that Ryoga both hated and loved with all of his heart and soul. This was sick . . . Ryoga pressed his hands against his temples, grinding his teeth against the feelings of extreme shame and disgust that bubbled up within and threatened to overwhelm him. Sick . . . sick . . . sick . . .
In Duplica’s arms, Ditto blinked its small pinpoint eyes and made a soft keening noise. A sad frown on its wide face, it looked up at the girl in obvious question. The purple pokemon had grown very fond of Ryoga since he had been there, and even though Duplica did find that disturbing, she understood. The Lost Boy was appealing in his pain . . .
"Dit?" Ditto whined hopefully.
She gazed for a moment at the tormented young man in the bed, her heart going out to him, empathizing with his emotional pain and extreme loneliness. She nodded down at Ditto and carefully set him back into the bed alcove beside Ryoga. She stepped back and watched as the transforming liquid pokemon shifted back into the form of the dark haired young man that seemed to give the Lost Boy so much pain and pleasure at the same time. She had to admit that the form was addictive and attractive, and Ditto certainly didn’t seem to mind taking it on to willingly assist Ryoga with his frustrations.
Ryoga turned over and shakily embraced the mock Ranma, tears punctuating the name of his heart’s desire once again. Duplica smiled sadly and stepped back, closing the curtains of the alcove as she left the two alone.
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Disclaimer: Ryoga belongs to Rumiko Takahashi. Duplica and Ditto belong to Nintendo.