Help wanted
I've got a chunk of underwater written but I could really use a hand filling in the gaps.
The cement thrummed under Michelangelo's wheels. He rode along a shallow channel of rainwater runoff and garbage. Other then the rushing of the water, he was alone with his thoughts.
Mike didn't like to be left out. He was 19 when he realized Don and Leo were fucking. He skimmed the surface of their closeness so long that whatever subtle shift happened in their depths, it happened without Michelangelo realizing it. It had an established feel, solid and quiet, like they'd been doing this for a while.
It was frustrating that he missed it, but not surprising. Don could keep his mouth shut better then anyone, and Leo was damn inscrutable when he wanted to be. Taking the ninja thing to extremes.
That left him with Raph, which was no hardship. Accept Leo and Raph were like the sky before a storm. Even worse than usual lately. It wasn't really a question of if those dark thunderheads would break, but when. Where did that leave him? Up the sewer with out a paddle. He kick flipped in to a crooked grind, sparks flying off the damp pipes.
Slowing he flipped the board into a rail stand, balancing with the balls of his feet along the thin edge of the board. He sighed. Being everybody's baby brother Mikey forever, that shit was cutting like zero ice with him.
He poped the board from the tail side and jumped, swing his arms to get a full 180, and pushed off fakie, moving as fluidly backwards as he did forwards.
He wondered about that, they counted their age up from their mutation, sharing a common birthday. At some early point their adoptive father had determined birth order. But early disposition was not deterministic, wise was not inflatable. Where would they be now if he had shouldered the burden of eldest? He kicked up, top side of his foot skimming the inside lip of the board into a fakie big flip. The board rotated a full 360 on both axis so when he came down he was out of fakie gliding forward again. It was pointless spending time wondering what might of been he decided.
Mikey clattered through a casual front flip. Right now big bro had all the marbles. But he was the come up king. He swerved downstream, and kicked off towards home.
Leo rolled over, no easy task in a single sized day bed occupied by two shelled bodies. But the lab was sound proof, and it was far easier to talk Donatello a few feet away from his desk, then all the way up to Leo's bed room. In the soft glow of the machines he could still make out the dark circles under Donnie's eyes. Best not to wake him, Leo decided. Even with the persistent aching pressure of a hard on building underneath his shell.
Especially since, the dream he had woken from was not of Donatello's soft churs, but a far deeper growling rumble. Leo felt vaguely dishonorable, dreaming of someone else while Don slumbered besides him. Pushing these thoughts aside, Leo willed the stubborn swell of his erection to subside.
He listened to the deep tide of Don's breathing, and let it lull him back to sleep.