To Thine Own Self Be True
Well then, Leo thinks. There's a sight you don't see everyday.
The door to Raphael's room stands slightly ajar and at a strange angle, the jamb having yet to see any repairs since his last temper tantrum; A not entirely unfortunate turn of events, the Fearless One thinks, as it allows him this covert peek into his mate's latest hobby.
The red-banded terrapin lounges upon his unmade bed, idly stroking Spike's head with one hand while a book as thick as a cinder block sits in the other. He seems thoroughly engrossed in it, whatever it is, an almost religious fervor having overtaken him.
Leo watches him for a bit, a smile upon his hunter green face. Not even a sixpack induced somnolence has ever evoked such a tranquil state in the firebrand. He has become so accustomed to seeing his brother lifting weights or pounding a punching bag during his leisure time, he didn't even think he had the ability to relax. Certainly not with a book in his hand rather than a weapon.
He watches for a moment more, enjoying the look of contemplative serenity on the emerald turtle's face. Those ethereal green eyes scan rapidly from left to right, left to right, never wavering from the page. He almost hates having to interrupt him, but curiosity will not allow him to let this moment pass without some explanation.
"What're you reading?" Leo asks, the damaged door emitting an agonized squeal as he enters the room. "Is it porn?"
The question was facetious, of course; Leo knows full well the tome in Raphael's calloused grip isn't porn. Unless of course, porno mags come in leather-bound editions with the title embossed in gold. Somehow, he can't quite envision Big Booty Backdoor Bitches packaged quite so handsomely. The way he throws it down however and covers it with a pillow would convey otherwise, a look of terror in the sai-weilder's eyes.
"Whattya want?" He angrily demands.
"Laundry duty," Leo replies with a shrug and a sigh of resignation, motioning to the laundry basket in his hand. He scoops the elbow and knee pads from the filth-strewn floor, the articles reeking of sweat and God only knows what else. "For real though, what are you reading?"
"A real good book," Raph replies, the heat of his gaze strong enough to set Leo aflame. "It's called, Mind Your Own Fuckin' Business and Get the Hell Outta My Room. Soon to be a major motion picture."
"Come on Raph, don't be like that," Leo says with a bemused grin. "I've been trying to encourage you to read more often for years now. I'd love to know what has you so entranced."
"...You'll laugh at me," he says almost regretfully, looking away.
"I promise you I won't."
"Ya sure?"
"I swear I won't," Leo replies. "I mean it."
With a resigned sigh of his own, Raph tosses the pillow aside and hands the leader the publication in question. He keeps his eyes glued to the floor, his shoulders stooped and a look of shame upon his face. He looks for all the world like a dog who has just been caught piddling on the floor by his master, and is awaiting a stern reprimand.
"The Complete Works of William Shakespeare?" Leo says aloud, an almost reverential tone in his voice. "What compelled you to read this?"
"Remember when April was tryin' out for that role in the school play?" Raph begins, cautiously raising his eyes to meet Leo's.
"Yeah," Leo says. "She was going for the part of Queen Titania in A Midsummer Night's Dream. She was so nervous! We did everything to try to help her remember all her lines. Don even went so far as to suggest giving her an earpiece, so he could feed her the lines as she auditioned."
"Yeah, well...I asked her what was so great about Shakespeare, and she lent me this book. Said it always helped her when she was feelin' stressed and stuff, and that it would help with like, my anger issues and whatever."
"I think that's excellent, Raph!" Leo gushes, returning the book to him. "Shakespeare is considered the greatest writer in English history, and I'm really proud of you for developing an interest in his works. What's your favorite so far?"
"Ya don't gotta patronize me, Leo," Raph responds, though the small smile threatening to burst forth says he enjoys the validation. "But uh...there's a few that I like, actually. He was kinda dirty, truth be told."
Leo gently lifts Spike from the bed and places him back in his tank, taking over the spot next to the tiny tortoise's master. "Oh? Indulge me."
"Well, uh...There's this one part in Romeo and Juliet," he flips quickly through the pages, Leo sidling closer to him in the interim. "Like, this is considered the most romantic story ever written, right? 'Bout two dumbass kids so in love they pretty much die to be together or whatever. But listen to this part; It's Romeo's friend Mercutio talkin'.
"'If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark. Now will he sit under a medlar tree and wish his mistress were that kind of fruit, as maids call medlars when they laugh alone. Oh Romeo, that she were! Oh, that she were an open arse, and thou a poperin pear.'"
"...I don't see what makes this passage so dirty, Raph."
"Seriously, dude?" Raph exclaims, laughing. "'Oh, that she were an open arse, and thou a poperin pear.' Mercutio's sayin' he hopes Juliet lets Romeo stick it up the pooper."
"What!?" Leo cries, his midnight blue eyes like twin full moons. "Raph, I think you are reading way too much into that. I'm sure it's just an antiquated way of professing love for someone."
"Yeah...The love of dat ass."
"Raph, you're incorrigible!"
"Still don't believe me, huh? Okay, how 'bout this one?" He flies through the pages once again, flip flip flip, till he uncovers yet another example. "Here, in A Midsummer Night's Dream. 'O Wall, full often hast thou heard my moans, for partin' my fair Pyramus and me!My cherry lips have often kissed thy stones, thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee.' She's talkin' about givin' him a big ol' sloppy bj, dude!"
"Uh Raph, hate to break it to you," Leo contributes, in a tone that suggests he is not at all averse to shattering his assumption, "but I think she is literally talking about a wall and not her lover's nutsack. She's kissing the wall knowing he is on the other side of it."
"See dude, that's what Shakespeare wants you to think!" Raph cries, gesticulating wildly. "He had to be all secretive about the sexy stuff! Think about it; Lime as in limb, limb as in schlong. And the hair she's talkin' about is pubes. Why else would a wall have hair in it?"
"I don't know Raph, I still think you're seeing sexy stuff where there clearly isn't. Shakespeare's work was as pure and chaste as the driven snow...you've just got a filthy mind."
"Okay, listen to this then, from Sonnet 151: 'My soul doth tell my body that he may triumph in love; flesh stays no further reason but rising at thy name, doth point out thee as his triumphant prize.' He is literally talkin' about his boner!" Raph places a hand none-too-gently on Leo's shoulder, looking him squarely in the eye. "He's saying that he wants this chick so bad, just hearin' her name makes him pop a stiffy! C'mon dude, it's so obvious!"
"I think I will have to revisit my initial supposition," Leo says with a mischievous grin, "and say that you definitely are looking at porn! In fact, I think I ought to take this filthy book from you. It's going to give you impure thoughts. That's definitely the effect it's having on me."
"Yer gettin' off to this, aren't ya?" Raph replies, wresting the book back from him.
"Sure am," Leo responds, inching closer. "I'm well aware of the Bard's bawdy tendencies...I just liked seeing you get so animated talking about it. Plus, I wanted to hear all those sexy lines come out of your mouth. "
"So ya had me quotin' Shakespeare under false pretenses, huh?"
"Mmm-hmm."
"Then, in the immortal words of ol' Willy Shakes," Raph says, climbing atop his lover, "'who knows not where a wasp wears his sting? In his tail!'"
"Raph, wait!" Leo cries, pointing to the door hanging askew from its battered hinges. "Someone might see!"
"Let 'em watch," the well-versed hornball replies, slavering his beloved's neck in kisses. "'Then lend the eye a terrible aspect; Let pry through the portage of the head!'"
"Speaking of head...," Leo says with a sly smile, rolling his beloved onto his shell.
"God, I love Shakespeare!" Raph cries, as he bites down upon his lower lip.
Exeunt