AN: Hi everyone and thank you for checking out my new Katanaship story! I am trying a new style in this one so reviews would be highly appreciated.

Warnings: Established slash relationship (Leo/Usagi). Homophobia. Mention of depression.

Summary: Usagi and Leo have been going out for a while. Set somewhere after the events of Prodigal Son. / Being gay is not contagious, but Casey's face is all angles pointing away from you, and sometimes you wonder if you are making the right choices.

PAPERTHIN

Chapter One: Angles and Slopes

"It's not contagious, you know," you say quietly.

Even though neither of you moves, there is a barely perceptible change in the air. A flicker of shame on Casey's face: he's going to deny it in a moment, going to ask what you mean. He knows well enough what you mean and he also he knows why you said it. It's just the two of you in the kitchen, but he is sitting all the way on the other end of the table: away from you. It's just the two of you here: Raph is on his way to join you for breakfast, but for now you have this strange, strangled intimacy that is born from proximity and mutual awkwardness, and that's why you said it.

"What do you mean, Leo?" Casey asks. There it is, the denial. But you have seen the shame on his face. You know that he knows.

"Being gay," you say. "It's not contagious, being gay."

His face changes. It's all angles now, all sharp lines and protruding jaw pointing away from you. It's just the two of you: you can say these things, but Raph is on his way to join you. He will be here soon; there is no time to tether on the edge. You always preferred to be blunt and honest, to plunge right in. It is not the human way. Maybe that's why you made it yours.

"Whoever said it was?" he demands sharply, but he is not looking at you. Shame on his face; it's there, you can see it in the lines of his mouth. You don't answer. Your eyes are very dark today, like the coffee Donatello prefers in the mornings, almost black and unfathomable. Your face is not: there is hurt there in the creases on your forehead, nervous anticipation in the way you tied your mask. Plain for those who know you. Casey would have seen something, would have noticed it too, except that you are not what he thought you were and now he has forgotten how to read you.

You don't answer. That would only serve to aid him in his deceit. You said the truth and he avoided to tell an equal truth in return and now he is hanging, strangled by the shame in his face, and you can only watch. He is all angled, all angled away, and you are relaxed in a way that means you are going to cry later.

He is working up the nerve to say something, but he is coming at the truth the wrong way. He will lash out at you, you can tell. He won't apologize (though he means to): he will hurt you again, the way he did last night, the way his eyes did when they caught you kissing Usagi goodbye. You remember the incredulous wonder in his voice when he fell behind on your way back, remember his words echoing through the sewer tunnels. Did he know you could hear him then? Did it matter to him? (It matters to you.)

"But you are all boys. You share your beds all the time. Doesn't he make you uncomfortable?"

Like you are a danger to your brothers. Like you could ever do anything but protect them.

Usagi does not need protection, but maybe you do. You are too relaxed in your chair. Your shoulders are all downward lines, your smile lopsided, your mask is loose. You are going to cry later because he hurts you. And he can hurt you because it is just the two of you. You knew that this was going to happen, and if he hadn't forgotten how he could see it too; it's all in your shoulders. But you still chose to talk about it. You didn't have to do that. (You shouldn't have had to do it. That is a difference.)

Maybe Usagi will be back by tonight. He can hold you when you cry. (Maybe it's better if he doesn't come back tonight. This will only upset him, and you hate to see him upset. But you need him, oh, you need him right now.)

Casey opens his mouth to say something now. He will hurt you: you know he will, he has done it before. He is insecure and taken aback and he will hurt you. But he never gets that far; Raph enters the kitchen to join you for breakfast and just like that, the intimacy is gone. It was just the two of you, that's why you said it, but now Raph is here. Casey can't hurt you now. Did you know that Raph would come in when he did? Maybe you did. Maybe you did know that.

"Morning," Raph mutters. You nod in response; you don't trust your voice right now. Casey only grins at his friend. Your brother slept well, he is relaxed in a way that you lack. It's a bit surprising that he is here: you asked him not to go out tonight and so he didn't. He does not wear his mask, and his eyes are all amber and freckles. Raph is always innocent in the mornings; it is the days that make him angry. He didn't shower yet: Mikey is blocking the bathroom, using up the hot water again. Raph doesn't mind. He is innocent now.

"What were you talkin' about?" he asks while he opens the fridge. He heard you speak; of course he did, the lair carries sounds to strange places and you were not trying to be quiet. There was an intimacy between the two of you, but it is gone now. (Maybe it wasn't there in the first place.) You watch Raph, and Casey watches you watching Raph: judging you. He is coming at the truth the wrong way. It's not contagious, being gay. But Casey's shame is on your face now, burning your cheeks. You turn your head away; you don't answer. Maybe shame is contagious. You wouldn't know. You have only ever had your own.

"Ah, ya know, just chattin'." Casey's voice is dismissive, and Raph grunts: He believes him now in ways that he won't believe anyone in the evenings. He sits down next to Casey, opposite you, facing you. You are going to cry later, it is all in your shoulders and your lopsided smile and the way your mask is tied too loosely, and he'll notice. Raph knows you too well. He will see. He has seen it already: he frowns at you and you look away. He won't ask you now, he is innocent in the mornings. Mikey is blocking the bathroom, and Raph has yet to shower his sleep away. The milk in his cereal is not the same.

You leave the kitchen and bury yourself in the dojo. That is how you cope (except you don't, do you), with work until your muscles demand your attention and scream louder even than your heart; you are not meditating over your problems, you are simply meditating them away. It is self-destructive, but it works well enough for you. You learned better these days, found other approaches, learned to speak your mind better and open up to your brothers, but they are still Usagi's ways and not yet yours. You would love to play a video game with Mikey or hand Don his tools while he works on the new van. They are good listeners: you wouldn't have to say anything at all for them to understand. Or you could ask Raph to hold the punching bag for you while you train. He is such an expressive listener; his mind always works better when his body does, and he knows you so well.

Your shoulders are all downward lines and your mask is tied too loose. You feel a bit blind, but they can't see that in here, there is paper in the way. (It might as well be granite.) Casey is out there, talking to Mikey and Raph, and he is angled away from you and you are all downward lines today, the difference is striking. They are all good listeners, but Casey is going to hurt you. So you bury yourself in the dojo. That is the way you cope.

(Maybe it is better if Usagi doesn't come back tonight.)

Raph's voice is too loud. You can hear it through the paper walls of the dojo as time passes by in spurts and limps. His voice is too loud: he is always innocent in the mornings, but it is afternoon now and he had his shower. Sound carries in strange ways in the lair, and you bury yourself so you won't have to listen. Paperthin, that is how you feel: Paperthin and cracked, so you work out the kinks and try to make yourself believe that the truth is preferable over lies and backward glances. Your shoulders are slumped, but they can't see. They mustn't see.

It's not contagious, being gay. But there was shame on Casey's face and now it is on yours. Shame might be contagious then. You wouldn't know. You have only ever had your own.