Disclaimer and Warnings
I do not own the Turtles, as much as I'd love to.
Oneshot; set during Déjà Vu All Over Again.
*Contains mild turtlecest*
Snowballing
Since they had turned eleven, arguments between Leonardo and Raphael were considered commonplace. Although their close friendship survived every violent outburst- and grew stronger because of each one- when they were in the midst of one, it was all they could do to even look at each other.
Their family had wondered if their tirades would calm once they became a couple, but this routine continued with a vengeance, considering they now had even more issues to disagree on. Rarely a week went by without them at each other's throats about something or the other. This was mostly perpetuated by two facts: Raphael secretly took great pleasure in pushing Leo's buttons, and if Leo was honest with himself, he usually enjoyed watching a livid Raphael storm about. Whatever the reasons, the others had become long used to it, as it appeared to work for them.
However, this latest round was one of the worst Raphael could remember, and he was just beginning to feel the prickle of worry trying to seep into his conscious thoughts. It had been nearly a solid two weeks after Leo had awoken one morning and tripped over a tangle of gear that had been tossed aside hurriedly the night before. It wasn't entirely Raphael's; nor was it entirely Raphael's fault- Leo had been both insistent and impatient that night- yet somehow Leo had concluded it was entirely his fault!
That was silly enough, but apparently it had been one of those rare times when it was a case of the 'last straw'. Leonardo wasn't just pissed about the messy state of their bedroom; oh no. If that had been it, this tension would've been long forgotten by now. No, Leo had flown into an uncommon rage and stormed from both Raphael's presence and the lair itself.
When he had finally returned a few hours later, his anger had only snowballed as he continued to bring up other issues between them; confusing Raphael mightily, which only infuriated Leo further. Raphael wasn't sure how putting away dishes that were still slightly wet into the cupboard was in any way related to leaving his gear in an untidy heap on the floor, but Leo seemed to think there was. Leonardo was slow to true anger; but once he reached that state, he was the absolute worst of them to live with.
So it had been, day after day, for the last week and this one. It was the second Tuesday of the month, which was he and Leo's unofficial 'date night', but Leo had left with Mikey to run errands and Raphael was home, alone, staring angrily at the blank television.
He suddenly slammed a fist on the cushion, but it did little to ease his black mood. He knew Leo hated disorderliness. In fact, he knew everything Leo had yelled at him at the beginning of this mess. He'd spent the first week stewing, his irritation boiling just under the surface; eventually going so far as to abandon Leo and sleep in his old room next to Mike's just so he wouldn't have to endure the death glares and cold shoulder.
Raphael sighed, burying his face in his hands. He'd tried so hard to hold onto his anger, but today it had all but dissipated when he'd woken up, cold and alone in his old hammock.
He felt so lost.
The last time he'd felt so lonely had been the agonizing months before he'd worked up the courage to admit his attraction to Leo. Raphael had been deeply ashamed, and pushed all of his brothers away in a stupid attempt to 'forget' his feelings.
And now that hopelessness was creeping back, eating away at his confidence; whispering all manner of poisonous 'what ifs' that planted terrible seedlings of ideas in his mind.
As quickly as his anger had faded, his resolved settled in, and he stood swiftly. Whatever he had or hadn't done, it didn't matter.
The only thing that mattered to him at this point was making Leo happy, and keeping him that way.
Squaring his shoulders, he stomped up the stairs, pausing for a moment to glare at Don in the kitchen. He took his cue and nodded quickly; he would keep his mouth shut if asked where Raphael was.
He silently slipped into their bedroom, surprised at how relaxed he felt stepping into the familiar room. He hadn't seen the inside of it for nearly two weeks- not a long time, but in his opinion it was two weeks too long. After lighting a few candles for light, he set about his task with a grim determination.
It was difficult having the patience to wait, but wait Raphael did; quietly, alone, in the dark. It was nearing ten p.m. when the bedroom door finally cracked open and Leonardo stepped in, closing it quickly behind him. Raphael heard him pad over to the bed; then the striking of a match, and the room was bathed in the flickering glow of candlelight, immediately followed by a soft gasp.
"R-Raph?" Leo blinked at him, brows knitted in confusion. "How long have you been in here?"
Raphael swallowed a dry lump in his throat before answering. "For as long as it took." He gestured at the room, and Leo's gaze followed it, gasping once more.
"I dusted ev'rythin'," Raphael explained gruffly. "I polished all th' weapons. I refilled yer inkwells, and straightened th' wall scrolls. I washed th' sheets an' mopped th' floor, and put ev'rythin' away that needed t'be."
Leo sank to the bed, his eyes widening with sadness. "Raph, I'm-,"
"I ain't done," Raphael snapped. "I know this ain't 'bout me leavin' stuff out or drippin' on th' floor after a shower or whatever. Ya ask me to do stuff for ya that makes you feel more comfortable, just like I ask you for stuff- like stayin' up an hour later than you usually do to spend more time with me. But I don't respect that all the time-,"
"Raph-,"
"Shaddup," Raphael said, uncurling from his position by the headboard and crawling closer to him. "I know damn well how important bein' tidy is to you. I really do, but since I don't really care about it m'self I just… I just forget. I don't care enough to remember sometimes, an' I'm sorry. I do respect you, Leo, an' I will respect our space an' your wishes more closely from now on."
Leo surged forward, throwing his arms around Raphael and holding him tightly to his chest, his head resting in the crook of Raphael's neck. "Raph, I don't care about all that. I mean, I do, but I care about you infinitely more. About us."
"M'sorry," Raphael murmured against Leo's skin, who shook his head violently.
"No, Raph, I'm sorry. I overreacted terribly. I can be so- so arrogant. It's not all your fault, Raph. It's mostly mine-,"
"Okay, okay, don't ya get started on the Martyr Mode," Raphael said, smiling for the first time in days as he pulled back to stare into those warm chocolate eyes. "I'm sorry, yer sorry, so let's just be more mindful of each other an' drop it. Okay? No guilt, Leo. It's over and done with now."
Leonardo reached up, tangling his fingers in Raphael's bandana ties as he leaned forward. They both sighed gently as their lips met, parting easily to allow their tongues to dance against the other's. When Leo finally broke the kiss, Raphael frowned as he tried to tug him closer.
"I don't deserve you," Leo whispered, his eyes still sorrowful, and Raphael sighed again.
"It ain't a question of either of us deserving th' other; we have each other, an' that's all that really matters."
"You're perfect," Leo said, finally smiling at him.
"We are. An' I think it's about damn time you show me why," Raphael grinned as he fell backwards, yanking Leo atop him.
