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After nineteen years, Leonardo still can't discern why his younger brother lives hell bent on self-destruction. Raphael shared the same upbringing as Leo and the others and yet remains inscrutable to Leo although only Splinter knows Raph better.
As the turtles grew up, Donatello developed his enthusiasm for technology into mastery thereof. Michelangelo took to heart the fact that no one would ever expect him to act like a grown-up and turned his reliability and good nature into a full time job, whether working for pay or as a part of the team. And Raph...
Upon Leonardo's return, the eldest turtle first thought his younger brother had nurtured only his rage until it blinded him to the safety of their family. On a rooftop in the rain, Leonardo learned with mortal certainty that Raphael had honed, too, his deadly prowess.
Since their victory over the immortals, all four brothers had started to adjust to acting as a unit again. Their diverse personalities fit together at different angles than before; Raphael at the strangest.
After nearly skewering Leo's jugular, suddenly instead of the lone wolf that sniffed out danger by running ahead of the pack Raph became an almost-reliable second. Leo has to say "almost" because it remains impossible to predict Raphael one hundred percent of the time.
A couple nights ago Raph came home drunk. Again. Not just drunk, but trashed. At least it was for the first time in awhile.
Soon after Leo's return, Donatello privately confided in him that for the past year drunk had been an occasional side effect of a night spent with Casey when April wasn't in New York to chaperone. Forbidding boozing had been the first law Leonardo lay down with Raph after their reconciliation – one of the few restrictions he'd had to demand.
Here he'd almost believed it'd taken.
"Listen to you," was all Raph said after Leo spent maybe ten minutes drilling into him that ninja practiced sobriety as a natural extension of the pursuit of clarity of mind. With that and a glassy-eyed grin, Raph wobbled to bed
Out of all the possible responses, especially the expected fit of anger, that one left Leo staring speechless after his unsteadily retiring brother. The first time Leo berated him for drinking Raph had been pretty sour.
Leo watches Raph now while Raph and Don trade blows on their dojo's tatami. Don and Mikey are out of shape, but Raph's never been better. Raphael's toying with Donatello. Don knows it.
Unlike his hot-headed younger brother would, Donatello plays it safe. Leonardo can see Don's intellect racing to catalog his own every weakness. Raphael tires of Don's stalling and puts Don to the floor. The red-masked turtle leans in close and smiles an evil smile.
"And I am done," Don concedes, greeting Raph's malice with a genial grin. As relieved as Don is to be freed of the burden of policing his younger brothers (however poorly), Don has grown steadier because of it. He no longer slips off with Mikey when Raph's looking to get a rise from somebody.
"Oh, you're done," Raphael agrees, except he gets off of him. He tucks his sai away without so much as a show-off twirl.
"We're both fighting Okinawan style but as a ninja, I'm weak at dirty fighting," Don confesses. The staff and the sai are traditional weapons from Okinawa's martial tradition, but the work Raph's put in to perfecting his technique with the sai grants him superior skills in close quarters, one-on-one combat where he innovates the unexpected. "Next time, maybe we can go without weapons and you'll show me a few tricks?" Don pursues. He's serious about regaining his edge and not ashamed to ask his brothers for help.
"Alright," Raph consents. With his accent, it's more like Aaright. Raphael little stands out from his brothers more than with his Brooklyn brogue. Leo and the others learned their Midwestern, American-standard accents from television. Raph's native.
"Don, you're done. Raph, you don't look half tired enough," Leonardo officiates.
Donatello bows to Raphael, then to Leo, and takes his leave for the evening. Leo himself already exhausted Mikey.
Knowing he may or may not go down hard, Leo retrieves a couple katana – not his own, best-forged katana – from the rack.
"Why're th' other kids always early to bed?" Raph drawls. His hands aren't on his weapons – but they will be as soon as Leo takes position.
"Don't push it or it'll be Don and Mikey every day," Leo warns, not afraid to put that threat into action.
"And then you?"
"And then me."
"I gotta do three times the work around here?"
"The point of our martial training is to improve ourselves. I expect you to improve alongside the rest of us."
Karai's parting words at their last meeting have stuck with Leo. Preparing the turtles to face the Foot is foremost on Leonardo's mind.
Leo corrects his casual grip on his blades. Raphael drops to the ready.
"Ya want me to beat on all three of ya; three it is. Maybe you oughta call for some back-up."
Leo's younger brother attacks first. Leo has no trouble parrying the attack. Once he discerns Raph's exact limits, then if it's in his power he'll force him a step past them. Two and three on one is already part of their weekly regimen, but Raph perennially prefers the odds of ten or thirty to one. (One lesson Leo's still working to instill in him is when it's better to beat a tactical retreat.)
Raphael's no longer playing. Leonardo would accept no less. While Leo sparred with Mikey his thoughts had ranged from best putting the youngest turtle through his paces to planning for the four of them to trade weapons, tomorrow – necessary to practice; sometimes unavoidable in battle. Against Raph, it's split-second reactions and the certainty that weakness is punished with pain.
Raph has forced Leo to up his game. Raph's hard. Leo's not soft, but he learned his lesson and discovered humility by underestimating his brother.
Leo doesn't win. Not that he hasn’t been winning, but lately Raph has him three for five. If they were playing rock/paper/scissors Leonardo would be doing all his chores.
Michelangelo's hanging out watching the remake of Miami Vice in their living room and Leonardo joins him. The drug smuggling's all a little too familiar from his sojourn in Central America, despite the quality of the film.
For some reason, Raphael's in Leo's room when Leo retires – just one more thing Leo isn't prepared for. Leo keeps an uncluttered room and decorates with artful objects that invite contemplation.
"Hey."
"Hey."
"Is something wrong?"
Raph shrugs.
"Nah. I just thought I'd take a look at where our back-from-the-dead leader dwells."
"Live up to your expectations?"
"Yea. Boring and sort of pretentious – just like you."
Leo sticks his hands on his hips, cocking a brow.
"Nothing else on your mind?"
"Do I gotta have a problem to talk to ya?"
"That's our tradition."
"That ain't true."
"No."
Leo's shared plenty of good times with Raphael. It's true they fight more than the others. Nonetheless, at times Raph's grudging concessions mean more than Don and Mikey's easy compliance, and they're not constantly at each other's throats.
Leo strips off his belt and mask and knee pads, getting ready for bed like usual.
"I don't think I've found you lurking in my room since the first time you saw Alien," Leo teases as he climbs into bed, pulling the covers up to his plastron. He's not convinced Raphael isn't planning some sort of confession, or assault, but Raph just shrugs.
"So I hate the idea of slugs gettin' inta my stomach when I'm unconscious."
"I'm going to bed, Raph."
"I wear you out, boss?"
"Night."
Leo turns off the lamp next to said bed. Raph will leave when it suits him. He can't expect Raph to do anything except when it suits him. (Luckily, getting along has recently started to suit him.)
Minutes later, in the dark, Leo's startled when Raphael slips under the covers and gets close – plastron to carapace. He's forced to assume Raph intends to spend the night like this. It isn't entirely novel. The second youngest, Raphael comes to him and Don for support, while Raph himself goes out of his way for Mikey. It's just become rarer and rarer since sometime after Raph turned thirteen.
"When I said 'bed' I meant me to mine and you to yours." Leo isn't really protesting. It's just another spontaneous behavior of his brother's in a lifetime of.
"Leo…" Raph sounds surprisingly serious at his back.
"Raph?"
"I need to know I don't wanna kill you."
Leonardo stopped trying to gauge everything Raphael says and does by the litmus a sane person would be held to years and years back.
"I thought we worked that out."
"Me too."
Leo gives in. With a little effort, and Raph's cooperation, he turns over so they're plastron to plastron. Hugging between them and any other intimacy has always been kept private, unlike between Raph and the others. Leo puts an arm around him and holds him. Their bodies create heat under the covers.
"Do you want to kill me?"
"Nah. I love ya."
"Me too...Not that I'm saying this is like you."
Their heads rest together, cheek to cheek. Raph's slightly tucked.
"You don't know what I'm like."
"Don't hold that over me."
"Don't leave again."
Leo lets it lie. He doesn't intend to abandon his family, but he can't make an unconditional promise that would bind him for life. He'd never knowingly betray Raphael like that, or any of them.
"…shit," Raph says, after awhile.
"Go to sleep."
"Just tell me you won't go." Raph sounds different this time, even a little dangerous.
"I can't promise that. Last time Master Splinter sent me away."
"An' you chose not to come back."
"No. I chose to come back. You can't know what it was like."
"You smug piece of shit."
"Hey. You don't hear me pretending to know what it was like for you."
That defuses Raph a minute. Thankfully. Leo assumes Raphael is unarmed but entertains for a minute the uncomfortable thought that Raph brought a sai to bed in case he wanted to kill him after all. It's not the death he fears as much as the poking.
Raph clings a little tighter. Now his embrace is controlling, but Leo won't fight him when he'd rather be sleeping.
"Give me somethin'." Raph's voice is a growl.
"I'm smug, but you're selfish. And ill tempered. And violent—"
"I changed my mind. I'm gonna kill you."
"Do it tomorrow. Bedtime, Raph."
Placated or not, Raphael falls asleep. A few minutes later it's just Leo alone with his thoughts.
For the time being, Leo has no desire to leave New York. Instead of finding himself in Central America, Leonardo had begun to lose himself.
At first, he spent his days in meditation and forging for food. His diet consisted primarily of fish – a meal he could cook or not – aquatic plants and other, similar, sustenance. He'd never been closer to his nature as a turtle than while consuming such a natural diet.
As he meditated, he awaited insight. Surely Master Splinter intended him to hone his spiritual abilities to better synchronize his brothers. He mimicked Splinter's schedule and example, questing to attain a reserve of peace to rival his master's.
Peace came while meditating, yet in the conscious world Leo grew restless. Restless, he became aware of the plight of the humans around him. Gangs and cartels threatened innocent civilians. He extended his protection to the victims of violence and turned the subdued villains over to those they wounded and robbed. Many were even misguided sons, their families welcoming their return.
None of this had granted Leo insight into how to better lead his brothers.
Tonight, in the present, listening to Raphael's steady breathing, Leonardo understands the lesson he was sent to learn.
He's become a leader not by seeking refuge in a distant forest or policing lawless departamentos but by making the decision to return and take responsibility for his brothers straying from the path of ninjitsu.
As leader, he does provide a moral and spiritual compass – but the most important aspect of his duty is accepting his brothers for who they are and leading by example.
Leonardo doesn't always understand them – Raph especially. He does know all four of them tended to get caught up in their own idiosyncrasies. Leo himself has to set aside his desire for a life of contemplation and provide the foresight his brothers sometimes lack.
----
Raph leans over the back of the couch where Leo's reading the Sunday news.
"Case and I are hittin' the streets tonight. Comin' with?"
Irritation twinges in Leo's breast.
"You gave up Nightwatcher."
Raphael hops the back of the couch and lands on the cushions beside him. He presses his fingertips together until his knuckles crack.
"Nightwatcher tracked down toughs because he wanted to hurt somebody, and didn't care who. This is New York, and the only body that's got the right to hand down justice is a jury of your peers. Now, Casey Jones and Raphael are judiciously exercising their civic duty to make citizens arrests and offer deserving citizens their day in court."
Leo's impressed Raphael's so rational about it.
"Have you researched this?"
"Yea. New York Consolidated Code section one-forty, subsection thirty. I googled."
Leo folds up the paper and leaves it on the arm of the couch.
"I'll get my blades."
This is Leo's first invitation to one of Raph and Casey's nights out. He's not sure what to expect. There's a different, darker atmosphere from cavorting on the rooftops with the four of his brothers from the moment they leave the lair.
The reason becomes apparent when they meet up with metal-masked Casey Jones. Leo can read it in Raph and Casey's body language. He's hunting alongside two predators in their natural environment and has to treat them with the same caution and respect as Central America's jaguars, or boa.
Raph produces a police scanner. Leo doesn't bother to remind him that that is illegal. They find their first perpetrator on their own, anyway – a twenty-something breaking into a car.
"Damage to property. That sets a strict limitation on reasonable force," Casey quips as they watch him from the roof.
"Then let's be gentle." Raphael's cackle is anything but.
Leonardo recognizes he's watching a privately rehearsed piece of kabuki theater with his own name somewhere in the title. The aim of their performance? To earn his trust.
Can he trust two wolves drafted as guard dogs not to slip their chains?
He participates in apprehending the offender. Casey and Raph couldn't be gentler. The three of them nab a few more hoodlums before dawn brightens the horizon.
By the end of the night, Leo has decided his answer: No. He'll never blind himself to their capacity for violence. Under the right circumstances, both Raphael and Casey can be expected to take a life as a rule, not a risk.
Does he trust they'll operate at their self-contrived threshold under every other circumstance? He's willing to extend them the benefit of the doubt.
He tells them: "Nice job, guys."
They don't act flattered. They already know.
Leo walks home with Raphael through dark sewer tunnels they travel by memory, their stinking catacombs all childhood haunts. Dim morning light filters through the odd manhole and sewer grate, casting patterns in the murky water.
There's no conversation. A glance tells Leo Raph's deep in his own head, thoughts a world away. As they approach home, Raph speaks up, stone walls echoing his voice.
"You think you could ever hate me?"
While Leo can't make any promises about standing by Raph's side all their lives, and his trust in Raph doesn't run as deep as Raph's sadism, this one has an easy answer.
"Even when I hate everything you do…I'll never hate you."
That's a promise Leo's certain he can keep.
"Thank God for that," Raph says.
Then Raph's grabbed him by his shoulder strap and because there's no threat of actual violence Leo doesn't fight it. Then Raph's wrenching their mouths together. This is new. Leo has no contingency plan for this one, and Raph apparently knows how to do some surprising things with his lips. Leo thinks So this is what it's like at the same time his stomach plummets into a pool of ice-water. He shoves a hand between their faces, shoving Raph away, staring at his brother in the shadows of the sewer.
Raph's eyes meet his own through the gloom.
He's already expecting the consequences.
Leo lowers his defensively-hovering hand. After he's vowed not to underestimate Raphael again, here Raph crosses the most inconceivable of boundaries.
"I don't need to tell you 'we can't.'"
Whatever argument or condemnation Leonardo can come up with, Raph's had hours – or days – to prepare to do exactly whatever he wants, anyway.
Raph waits. His eyes are saying, Tell me one I haven't heard.
"You're my brother. What would Splinter—I can't believe you've even been thinking about this!"
"We're off to a good start. I didn't hear 'no' in there."
Raphael has finally had his psychotic break.
That's the only explanation.
"I think 'no' is implied."
"But ya ain't sure."
Leonardo stares Raphael up and down. He has to make certain it's his brother, the one he's known all his life, standing there in front of him.
"You have to have a reason for this."
"You're one of the only three turtles like me in, oh, what's a rough approximation of the circumference of the earth?"
"That's not good enough."
"Let's say I'm a little more passionate about you than the others."
"That's just—You have lost your grip on reality."
The grin that lights Raph's lips is the springing of a steel trap.
"You're a good guy, Leo. More worried about me than what you want."
Leonardo gapes at his younger brother.
His gaze hardens.
He won't be manipulated like this.
"You are out of line. Don't talk to me until tomorrow."
"That an order, fearless leader?"
Leo's silence is his answer as Leo turns his back to him and heads toward the lair. Now that the cold shock has worn off, Leo can feel the hot blood in his cheeks. He's grateful for the color-muting darkness that surrounds him. He passes to the side of those filtered beams of morning light.
Raph's following him home – of all the times for the turtle to not storm off on his own.
I'd never do that. Not with any of them. Not with Raph. What put the idea into his head? He took me out to get me alone…How long has he been plotting this?
By the time they've made it home, Leo's put Raph's presence in the back of his mind, even if his brother's actions remain at the fore of his thoughts. Leo ignores the turtle trailing him and heads straight for his room. He fell for a surprise attack, but unlike Raphael he's not too proud to seek shelter and recoup.
In the sanctity of his own bedroom, he's still not free of Raph. The memory of holding his slumbering brother haunts him as he drops onto his meditation mat instead of the bed.
Was he planning this even then? No…I don't believe that. He really thought he might do me violence. I know him at least that well.
So, Leo reasoned, Raph had only come by his new pursuit in the last couple of days.
He'll never give me a break, will he?
Leonardo sighs. He confronts the question he'd been avoiding in Raph's presence.
Was he right?
Not that Leo can actually believe it. Not for a minute. But as long as Raphael taunts him with his unwillingness to confront his accusations directly, his brother will hold power over him.
What do I know about sex? What do any of us? He has to now assume that Raphael has come to some better understanding of sex than he, himself, has grasped. If I think for a second he's doing this to trick something else out of me I'll break his face.
Okay. He doesn't think that. Raphael couldn't be more straight forward. Mikey – even Don – is more likely to wheedle for something.
Never has Leonardo wanted more than to seek Splinter's counsel, or been less willing to.
Leo meditates. His conflicted thoughts subside. He takes refuge in the quiet of his mind, but the quiet can't last forever despite the hours he sits in mental silence. Physical exhaustion finally overwhelms him. He surrenders to the allure of his bed.
----
Raph's discerned that much. The orders still come down, but Leo's no longer what Raph would call conversational.
All in all, it's going better than Raphael expected.
Raph's considered his options. Girls are out. He can't ruin what Casey has going with April. Michelan—No. Don's rarely willing or able to stand up to him. He'd steamroll the guy. And then there's Leo…who'd been the first choice since he thought of finding somebody who wanted to get a regular thing going. He'd had to be sure, though. No ready, fire, aim with this one.
It boils down to Leo because Leo's the brother he's the most distant from and the only one who'll fight to stop him when he pushes the envelope.
Except this is all an elaborate rationalization.
Leo turns him on.
There's more to it than that, but that's the heart of the thing.
Raph hasn't masturbated about the guy. That'd be…invasive – which he has been, but only in a way where he can still meet his brothers eyes.
The fact that they might not be related by blood has occurred to him and been dismissed. It's irrelevant. He grew up as Leo's younger brother. Hell, his older brother may still see him as a rebellious youth.
A man shouldn't be having sex with somebody he'll beat the snot from when he's angry. Or who he's stored up nineteen years worth of cutting slander for. That's dysfunctional enough for brothers without introducing an incestuous relationship.
Under whatever circumstances, it's incest not to look for a partner outside of the three young men he's grown up closely beside.
Except: He's reached the conclusion that Leo turns him on.
They've done worse things with the excitement they cause in each other than have sex – generally leaving one or the other at the brink of death.
Maybe it'd even be good for them, Raph thinks. Maybe that's just another rationalization.
Leo hasn't let it go. That leaves the whole endeavor credible. Whatever Leo has to say, he's putting off saying it. That means it's not "Under no circumstances, Raph."
It's indicative of a certain magnitude of interest.
For the first few days Raphael can't guess who'll make the next move, though, or in what direction. Either his own apology – if sincere – or a 'no' from Leo would put an end to it.
Leo kicks his ass in the dojo a couple of times, but on Monday when Raph has him down on the mat he growls: "My room. Let's end it" at his older brother.
Leo slips into Raph's room after the turtles have ostensibly gone to bed. Raph's kicked back, listening to an MP3 player, but he wouldn’t hear Leo coming even if he wasn't. At the sound of his name he cracks an eye, tugs the headphones off and thumbs off the player.
"Thought maybe you'd chicken out."
"I don't 'chicken out.' It may not have occurred to you that my little brother making sexual advances at me is something I need time to think about."
Raph quirks a suggestive brow. Leo brushes off his innuendo with a dismissive snort.
"And, I've thought about it," Leo continues in that know-it-all voice.
"So what's your call?"
"I really do have to know what brought this on."
Raph thinks that's reasonable. For all Leo knows, he's been picking up hookers.
"Alright. Maybe I was a little down about my lack of prospects an' Casey showed me the ropes."
Leonardo's floored.
"You and Casey—"
"Made out a little. Where's your head? The gutter?"
Leo shakes it off.
"And…?"
"I started getting' off…an' then I thought about that night on the roof where I almost killed you. 'Cause that's my idea of excitement. Attempted murder."
Leonardo's eyes narrow.
"What you pulled on me in the sewers wasn't a sai."
"Well, I got ta thinkin' after that. After I realized I didn't wanna kill you. You get me worked up. So does everything else – but you in particular. I thought: 'It's weird, but it might work.'"
Leo glances at the wall for a quiet moment before looking back to Raphael, expression unguarded.
"You're not the only one. I do want to find out what I'm missing."
Raph himself has created this possibility, but he hasn't thought past the first steps of what he'll do now that Leo's actually given his permission. Raph sits up light-headed, forcing himself to his feet, sure Leo can hear his heart pounding beneath his plastron.
No backing down, now.
Raph grasps Leo's face, pulling Leonardo into a kiss he controls. He's a natural aggressor. Leonardo, however competitive, isn't, his own aggression requiring provocation Raphael is eager to provide. Even now, Leo's not resigned to a passive role, fingers digging into the tough skin between Raph's plastron and carapace.
Raphael plies at Leo's lips until his older brother begins to respond. Raph knows, at that moment, that however fucked up it is this could be good. It could even be right.
Leo's fingers catch the edge of Raph's carapace. He pulls his younger brother closer, their flat plastrons pressed together, pressing harder as they breathe. Leo takes Raphael's wrists, pulling his arms to their sides. Raphael subdued, Leo's mouth grows more adventurous, kissing leading to nibbling and lower-lip sucking.
It's Raphael that introduces tongues – something he hasn't tried but that he's seen humans do. Leo won't be outmatched and their kissing gets sloppy – a battle now of who'll take it further. It's Leo, when he bites and tugs hard at Raph's lower lip and Raph gasps for breath, pain blooming through his pleasure.
Pain's never been a turn off.
Leo's hands tighten around his wrists, warning him not to act brash as they take a minute's respite.
"Didn't know you had it in ya."
Leo has the upper hand: "Don't lie to me, Raph. This is what you've been after."
Raphael gets a little hot in the cheeks. There's truth in Leo's words. That's been the game from the start: the turtle who's more honest with himself wins.
"And now you're after putting it in me," Raph parries. Leo's fingers flinch. It's Leo's turn to color.
"…I wouldn't go that far."
"See, I think you would."
Leo's eyes narrow behind the holes of his mask.
"Just remember you asked for it."
Raphael laughs in his face.
"Like I'll just surrender!"
No matter their word, their next kiss is mutual. Sexual contact's too new and too raw for either of them to risk scaring the other off.
"I wanna get you off," Raph confesses, voice husky, dealing his brother a strike at the same time.
"You want to get off."
"I can do that all by myself."
"You're in luck, then. You're right. I wanna get under your tail."
Raphael's staggered. Leo's taken it to the brink, again. The fearless leader. Raph never should have given him that reputation – somewhere in the past four years Leo's taken Raph's mocking words and owned them.
Raph's caught in a pinch – if he escalates it into a physical fight, does he win or lose? For once pinning Leo on his back might mean nothing. If it turns Leo off, that's the end.
"Let go of me, Leo. Unless you're afraid what I might do to you."
If Leo is, he won't admit it yet. He lets go. Raphael presses him.
"Odds are: I could have you any which way I wanted. That doesn't scare you?"
"I trust you."
"Then you're crazy."
It's Raph's turn to take Leo by the arms, behind the elbows. He runs his hands over Leo's triceps and biceps as their lips meet, again. He runs his hands over Leo's shoulders and takes hold of them. His touch isn't as demanding as when they began. His hands squeeze, reminding Leo of his strength. Maybe a little moan escapes his older brother, but it's swallowed up as Raph kisses him.
Leo's hand cups Raph's face, gently parting their lips.
"I'm not ready to go that far – either way."
It's true for both of them. Raphael's lost the game. Funny, he thinks, feels about the same as winnin'.
They undress and lay on Raph's bed. Neither one is startled as their cocks descend further the more erect they grow – natural to both their bodies. They stroke one another; no longer bickering. Between their grunts and gasps runs a mutual understanding. Their instincts work in tandem. They're as close as the first time their minds met in meditation by the fire in the forest beyond April's country home, where they took each other's hand.
Come's spilling on the sheets between them, making a mess of Raph's bed. They lie together in the silence that remains after provoking one another's choked cries and Raphael's curses. Their breathing calms. Leonardo strokes Raphael's carapace.
"We should do this more often – get along," Raph murmurs with a smile.
Leo laughs.
"I think we're getting along just fine."
For once, they're in complete agreement.
----
Splinter always eats his traditional meal of steamed rice, miso and natto or tamagoyaki before they wake. He's watching the morning news.
They're going to get away with this. Leo's not sure if they should, yet it's pleasant to have something only he and Raph share that doesn't involve raised voices or trading blows.
A quiet happiness rests in Leo's breast, a happiness he senses the turtle idly chomping on Corn Flakes shares.
They're ninja, both. Secrets are part and parcel of their trade.